The snow is finally sticking.  I am not sure how I feel about that.

Christmas has come and gone and I was caught a little off guard by the apathetic feeling it provided.  I was not anticipating it.  It is odd, actually.  The days prior to Christmas/my birthday, I thought it would be my birthday that I would not care about.  Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed Christmas - it was just  blanketed with with really dull, heavy feeling.  I suppose that is to be expected.  Not to mention two of the million pregnant friends that I have gave birth on Christmas.  Meh, I just really had to shake it off.

Aside from my insides being a little sad, the two days of Christmas festivities were really nice.  I am pretty sure everyone loved the gifts that they got, which pleases me greatly.  I received a ton of kitchen stuff that I had wanted, which makes me really excited to re-paint the kitchen/dining room.  You know you're officially old when you ask for a toaster, microwave, garlic press, and wok for Christmas.

I turned 31 yesterday and it was a good day.  I woke up and had breakfast with a friend that was home for the holidays.  We had great conversation and it was really refreshing to see her again.  After breakfast we went to a book store because she wanted to get me a book for my birthday.  The book is called Heaven Is For Real.  I came home immediately and began to read.  It is a great book and it was especially nice to read for leisure rather than for obligation.  Ray had already given me my birthday gift (well, not really, I totally opened the box when it was delivered to the house before Ray was home from work.  he wasn't really happy about it, but I couldn't wait!) so I wasn't expecting anything more from him.  Ray got home from work and had another gift for me, which was a gift bag full of everything that I love.  He is such a gentleman.

The new year is approaching and I couldn't be happier.  Ray and I are both working, so we won't be partaking in any of the festivities.  I would rather this year just end, and not really celebrate anything.  I am excited for the year to be over.

Our Gatlinburg trip is the end of January and I am going to Los Angeles mid Febuary.  I am excited to travel again.  I feel like it has been forever.  We have heard that Gatlinburg is beautiful in January.  The package that we originally bought for October is much more costly than the package in January and, because so, we get an extra day.  Mike is unable to go now, so Sean and Cyndi are on the bill.  We're going to have so much fun.

Our house is a total wreck.  We must clean today and do a ton of laundry.  My vacation ends today, and what perfect way to celebrate by cleaning.

Christmas and Birthday gift to myself.

I got a new tattoo.  I am surprised that it did not hurt nearly as bad as I had anticipated.  Whenever it became a bit uncomfortable, I just remembered how painful childbirth was and how much more painful losing my baby was.  I  barely even winced.  This is dangerous because now I want so much more.  I was so weary about the placement on my body.  Initially I wanted it on my ribs.  The more that I thought of it, the more I realized that I am far too self conscious about my belly, so I did not want to get something in a place in which I would have to constantly be lifting up my shirt.  The inside of my arm was the best location that I could think of.  First, because I would not have to lift up my shirt.  Secondly, because I didn't want it so visible that people would constantly be asking me about it.  When my arm is down, you can barely see it.  I am still waiting on Buddy's paw prints, those will be on the back of the same arm as Dominic.  These were the two first true loves that I have ever known.  A love that exceeds all conditions, a love of complete selflessness.  Unfortunately, these are the two loves that I have lost.   

I earned a 4.0 last semester and a 3.8 this semester.  That was in the worst year of my life.  Take that, 2011, you little bitch.

One.last.final.

I have been at Annie's since 9am studying for our trial court final. It will only be considered difficult because we do not have exams, only finals. And also because it is a ton of information and legal jargon. But to me, it's fun so I know I'll do well. I forgot to fill out my evaluation for this class which prevents me from getting 10 extra points, but I don't think I'll need them.

We leave in 30 minutes to take it. I cannot wait for it to be over. After this I just have to present my art project tomorrow and I can say goodbye to my junior year. Huzzah!

I'm going to fist pump so hard.

I talk to myself and my animals far too frequently.

I like the background to my blog.  I wish it were my house.  Minus the chilled feeling you get when you look at it.  I like candles and smelly stuff.  It makes my home super cozy and warm. I had an old timey phone once, it was awesome.  It was white and gold - victorian.  It doesn't work anymore and I don't have a house phone either, so I guess it doesn't matter.  Growing up I had a creepy old timey phone mounted on my kitchen wall.  I wish we still had that.  I'd rock that shit so hard in my family room. 

I was over - the - top excited for Christmas last night.  I came home from class and lit all of my candles and turned all of my Scentsy stuff on.  It smelled like a winter wonderland.  I began baking cookies and pulled all of our Christmas stuff out.  I found Christmas songs on our Apple TV and pulled out our Christmas tree.  I could not find the stand.  I looked everywhere in panic.  I never found it.  Sadly, I put all of our Christmas shit back.  I was super bummed.  My cookies (gluten free/sugar free/ oatmeal, quinoa, raison cookies) came out of the oven and they sucked too.  I ended up playing solitare on my phone the rest of the night.  Because, well.... fuck it.

It all was way more comical than I describe.  Sometimes I feel like my life should be a reality show.  I would make millions.  I am sure I looked utterly insane tearing my house a part trying to find the stand while talking to myself.  That, and the part where I yelled at then had a heart to heart with my cats because they have been fighting a lot lately.  I mean, it's Christmas.  We should all get along and Cooper is simply far too mean to Stella, god dammit. 

I cannot express the gratitude that I have for my beloved.  Every day I wake up with more appreciation for him than the day before.  The more I reflect on the past seven months of my life, the more that I realize just how lucky I truly am to have him in my life.  I listen to this song every day in my car and simply cannot believe that he and I, together, overcame the most devastating, traumatic event to ever have happen to an individual.  I am truly blessed.  He carried me through the entire process, and still continues to today.  I am eternally grateful.

On another note; this is a song that I sing to him almost every day.  He has no idea the song, so - since he reads this, I shall post the video.

Super random.  I know.

Not much else to report.  Christmas is in 20 days and I am pretty excited.  I am mostly excited to not have school for some time.  I am not stressing about money or about Christmas gifts, which is unusual.  It must be the anti-depressants.  Meh.  I'll take it.

Ray got me a beautiful ring for Christmas, I wish I had a picture to share.  I have not received this gift yet, I've only seen photos, but believe me, it's pretty great.  I cannot wait for Ray to open his gifts from me and my family.  He is being spoiled, yet again.  

Annie's birthday was this weekend and we had a blast.  I have pictures, but for some reason the iMac isn't allowing me to upload them, which is totally lame.  

My sister got a 10 week old Shih Tzu puppy for her birthday.  She came named already, Tegan.  It is a match made in heaven.  She's super adorable and is going to be Beatrice's best friend.  

My mom reunited with an old friend.  He's a man and is super nice to her.  She insists they're just friends, but I am just pleased that she has a companion, in whatever capacity.  

I had a chance to talk with Liz over the weekend, in person.  It was really nice.  I had missed her more than I realized.  

I had an appointment with my Endocrinologist today.  He's nice.  Hopefully my body starts to get as normal as it can and I can learn better how to manage my diabetes.  

Somedays I simply cannot believe this is now my life.  It is just so surreal.  

I make lists.

• I babysat Charlie today and had such a good time.  He is such a good baby.
• I can't stop Christmas shopping.  I am spending money that I need to pay on bills, but I want to buy Ray every.thing.  Because he deserves it.  But he also deserves to have bills paid.  
• I saw Garth's new project this weekend.  It was nice to see that he has finally collaborated with a female, it was weird to find that they covered one of our songs.  A song that was going to be our wedding song.  Disturbing.
• I shopped until I dropped on Black Friday.  I do this because I am so poor that I need the sales.  It's a vicious cycle....
• Our first gluten free Thanksgiving was a success!  
• I have put off all of my homework over the long weekend and have to spend tonight catching up.
• I have made a ton of money every single shift I have worked in the last two weeks.  
• I need to put up our Christmas tree.  
• There is stuff going on every weekend until Christmas....and I kind of want a break from it all.
• I secretly cannot wait for it to snow.  

I am a fan of Adele's.

Interesting.  This video was filmed at the exact place we stopped when we toured Paris, France.  I have photos of the Eiffel Tower from this perspective.  I love this song.

Today we give thanks.

I have so much to be grateful for, it is overwhelming.  I have so much support from everyone in my life - it is simply astounding.  From my parents to my regular customers, the scope of my support is just ridiculous.  If I were to list out every single person I would be writing forever.  This year has been such an obstacle, such a struggle.  In the end, however, I still find myself eternally grateful for my life and all of those that I love.  I am still so grateful to have experienced the miracle of child birth and my first born.  Without all of these horrible outcomes, I am not sure I would be as thankful as I am. 

Happy Thanksgiving, my friends.  I hope I have given you half as much as you all have given me.

Blogging on the go

I finally got my iphone4. I can start blogging from here. Hells yea.

Ode to Ray

Never thinkWhat's in your heartWhat's in our homeSo I won't
You'll learn to hate meBut still call me babyOh LoveSo call me by my name
And save your soulsave your soulBefore you're too far goneBefore nothing can be done
I'll try to decide whenShe'll lie in the endI ain't got no fight in meIn this whole damn worldTelling you to hold offShe said hold onIt's the one thing that I've known
Once I put my coat onAnd how I know it's all wrongShe's standing outside holding meSaying oh pleaseI'm in loveI'm in love
Girl save your soulSave your soulBefore you're too far goneAnd before nothing can be done
'Cause without meYou got it allSo hold onWithout me you got it allSo hold onWithout me you got it allWithout me you got it allSo hold onWithout me you got it allSo hold onWithout me you got it allSo hold onHold on

The day that I went into labor I was 160 pounds.  After I gave birth I was down to 140 pounds.  I remember being so insecure because I still had a belly that looked pregnant.  I did not want to leave the house, and finding clothes to wear that didn't make me look pregnant was difficult.  I think I struggled more with the self image because I was not frolicking around with a beautiful newborn and I was terrified that, 1. Someone would ask me if I were pregnant (or when I was due) or 2.  If I had just had a baby (and where was said baby).  I was only ten pounds more than my pre-pregnancy weight, but it still sucked to look pregnant.  Not to mention my engorged breasts that were lactating constantly (that just basically added insult to injury).  Anyway - this is where my issues with my body began.

When I was sick I was dropping weight at a startling rate.  It was insane.  I had lost 12 pounds one week and 15 the next.  I weighed 118 pounds when I was diagnosed with Celiac.  I looked so gross - so sick.  I am sure 118 would have looked better if I was not so malnourished.  Nonetheless, I was able to put on eight pounds in a few months, and I was starting to look healthy.  In the month of September when I was feeling exhausted, I began to loose a lot more weight.  I was 108 pounds when I was admitted into the hospital.  I remember being so self conscious about my body.  My boobs had become so small that I wanted to leave my shirt on even when I was having sex.  I wore a size 3 in jeans and even that was too big.  I would get bruises on my spine if I sat on a hard chair for too long.  I was a mess.

I have been diagnosed and "healthy" for nearly two months now.  I am now at 135 pounds.  This is a healthy weight for me.  I am, however, continuing to pack on the pounds pretty steadily.  My doctors are saying this is from my insulin and hypo thyroid.  I have never been more self conscious than I am now.  I cannot seem to find a comfortable weight and it seems impossible that I would be able to maintain it if I could. 

I am not happy thin and I am not happy thick.  This is what society and media has done to women.  What the fuck.

• Today is Beatrice and Dexter's birthday.  They are 3 years old. 
• I cannot believe it has been 3 years since I lived at Hillcrest (well, 2.5 - but whatever)
• I am super hungry right now, but cannot eat because of my stupid diabetes.
• I should have ate more than stupid fries for dinner.  (It was my only gluten free option at the time)
• I wish my hair would grow a little faster.  I have a hairstyle I want to try out.
• I get super jealous sometimes when I look at pregnant women.  I want to kick them in the crotch and tell them that their story might turn out super shitty too.
• I am working on the above in therapy.
• I cried today in Philosophy when we were discussing the existence of God and why God allows evil.  The example the Prof. made us discuss was why God allows for babies to die.  I didn't partake in the discussion.  I just sat there and let tears roll down my face.
• I am super excited for Christmas break and I have no idea why.
• I am not looking forward to my birthday and I do not know why.
• I 'liked' a band on facebook today.
• When I realized the band I 'liked' was my ex husbands, I unliked it.
• I want a cigarette super bad right now.

Grumbles.

Dance will always be my first choice.

When I was 18, if I had known this could have been an option for a career for me - I would have never given up dance.  I want to be a B Girl sooo bad.  Sadly, I am more like the girl in the yellow skirt.  I miss performing so much when I watch performances like this.  This is, by far, my favorite performance of anything - ever.  You should watch it a few times to catch all of the amaze-ness.

Giving credit where credit is due.

After this semester, I believe that I have about three semesters left of my undergrad.  This means that I only have one semester before I have to decide whether to apply to Graduate School or Law School.  If I choose to apply to Law School, then I must begin to prepare for my LSAT test.  This fact is utterly absurd to me.  I still feel like a child in the fifth grade.  How is this even a possible scenario for me?  I digress.

I have done a pretty awesome job at scattering out my classes so that I am not taking all 400 level classes at once.  I mix up my senior classes with some two and three hundred level classes for sanity purposes.  I have not taken the default classes that everyone seems to take (and hate), when required to fulfill things like the visual literacy requirement, etc...  This means that this semester I took a 200 level theater art class rather than some crappy 100 level visual literacy class.  I will admit, it was very intimidating at first being that I am not, and have never been - an artist.  We have multiple art projects due throughout the semester which we have to present - in front of the class.  Ouch.  My first presentation, during my presentation, my professor asked me if I was an Art major.  I laughed and just blew him off, I mean....what is he thinking?  It is now the end of the semester and our projects have become more demanding and much much more detailed.  I am now asked to actually draw things.  I have spent time drawing multiple things required for the course.  Faces, clothing, etc...  I was shocked to see how well I have done.  I left my drawing pad on the table in the family room.  I asked Ray last night if he had looked at my drawings.  Indeed, he did and he mentioned that they were really good.  I think we were both surprised at my artistic abilities.  I said to him, "Babe.  I didn't even know that I could draw!"  He replied, "You didn't think you could cook either, but you can do that well too!  I just don't think that you try."  .......I just don't think that you try.  He is absolutely right.  I do not give myself enough credit.  I have never given myself enough credit.

And with that thought, I have decided to give Law School a try.  I have proven over and over that, if I put my mind to something - and actually try - I do really really well.  Every semester I have come out with a 3.8 - 4.0 GPA.  I have gotten my GPA up from a really pathetic score (from when I was a stupid 18 year old who totally fucked up) just by really trying.  I just need to try.  I cannot let fear of failure to keep me from trying.  Because failing is okay as long as I really tried.

I have not really voiced my desire for this in any sort of serious manner to anyone other than Ray.  Not even an hour after our conversation, Ray had already gotten my LSAT practice tests to me.  I have decided to make my Christmas Break my start to really prepare for the test.

Gulp....nervous.

And yet another song that appropriately goes with the blog.

Sissies.

I just got off of the phone with my sister, Traci.  It has been nearly four years since I have seen her and my nephews.  It has been such a crazy four years. 

Traci and the boys will be coming up for the holidays.  I really cannot wait.  With Dominic not being here as planned, it will be a really nice distraction having my nephews to spoil.  Zachary is 15 now.  I was 15 when he was born.  He's such a young man now, it is so bizarre.  My how time flies.

I knew that I missed them, I really did.  I guess I didn't realize how much. 

Us three girls will have a day to spend together.  Probably filled with laughing, crying, a tattoo, and a massage.  We really need a sister day.  Badly.

I miss Buddy terribly.  I am so tired of missing things.  I am tired of disappointment.  I want to have him again.  I cannot even describe how much it hurts to know he is just 5 minutes away, and I cannot see him. 

This fucking sucks.

Today is Matt's birthday.  Ugh.

theraputic perception

I have participated in therapy a total of three times in my life.  By this, I mean three different occasions throughout my life. 

The first time that I went to therapy I was 17 years old.  My parents had just separated and my sister had just "come out of the closet".  I had been caught drinking a few times (by the police - not parents) and had obtained a few drinking ticket.  I was put on probation until I was 18 years old.  One night, as I was babysitting my mentally and physically profoundly retarded brother, my friend and I drank an entire bottle of my mom's whiskey.  When my mother returned home, she found my brother in the house alone, my friend in the front yard throwing up, and me - walking laps around the yard so that I would not throw up.  This was when my mother threw me into therapy.

My therapist was horrible.  Even at the age of 17 I knew this.  We never really talked about me.  I am pretty sure I had only gone to therapy three times and each time, I was able to manipulate the conversation so that we ended up talking about her.  Either she was just out of school, or I was really just that good.  Either way, I got nothing out of therapy.

The second time that I took part in therapy was when my marriage was in shambles.  We did couples therapy and I had gone to my own therapy.  I had gone to only a few sessions of my own personal therapy, as I had felt (at the time) that I really did not need it.  I did, however, like the therapist that we had for our couples therapy.  She was older and almost always on my side (which is probably why I liked her so).  I remember one day she looked at me and asked, "Erin, do you ever feel like Garth acts 'holier than thou'?"  Indeed I agreed with her.  Ever since that day, Garth hated her and wanted to switch out.  Even after I admitted to the affair, Garth still felt she 'liked' me better.  Regardless, the reason we stopped going to see her was because Garth did not like her anymore and I am sure there was some underlying defeat that Garth and I both felt in our marriage.  So we just stopped going.  I did go to Garth's therapist, once, because Garth wanted me to meet with him so give him a different perspective on all of our drama.  This was about one or two weeks after Nikki and I got into a bar brawl.  I am sure, no - I take that back.  I am positive that the therapist thought Nikki and I, both, to be absolutely insane.  I felt like a complete nut job telling the therapist about his client.  I looked like the nut job because I was the one 'fighting' for our marriage.  Even fighting his girlfriend.  I just know that I looked insane and I am sure I made Garth look even worse.

The third time (and standing) I have been to therapy is when Dominic died.  I finally found a therapist that I love.  It is the first time I have really unpacked all of my baggage and laid it out all over the table for someone.  From my parents divorce, all of the drug use, the drinking, the sex, my marriage, my divorce, my husbands girlfriend, Ray and I's family, Dominic's death - everything has been laid out.  All of it.  She has taught me coping mechanisms and relaxation techniques in my times of anxiety and sadness.  It works.  I will leave there sometimes completely exhausted from intense weeping, but it works.  I began going every week.  Every single week, I would meet with her and she would talk me through my completely overwhelming sadness.  Then, I got a little bit better and we started seeing each other every other week.  I have a few more sessions and I will be to once a month. 

My therapist had to take a family medical leave for a few weeks.  She called today to set up our future appointments and we talked about why she was on a leave of absence.  I knew her and her husband were going to Montana for their yearly vacation to ride horses, but I had not heard anything from her since.  I found out today that her husband was bucked off of his horse miles away from anyone and he broke his neck.  Luckily, there was a doctor in their group,  She stabilized him until the ambulance would get there.  It took three hours for an ambulance to get there and nearly eight hours before anyone told my therapist that her husband was going to survive.  She has been tending to his every need and he is doing much better, today. 

I have been through a lot.  This I cannot deny.  But I cannot imagine what she had gone through.  How horrible.  It is times like these or stories like that, when you think that life just could not possibly get any shittier, when you realize that - in fact, it can always get worse.  And it really, really makes you grateful for the situation you are in.  Perspective is an interesting thing.  Everything changes when you look at it from a different perspective.  It is sad that more people don't take the opportunity to do that more often.  I think the world would be a really different place if they did.

Breaking up is hard to do.

I am smoking my last cigarette as I type this.  Tomorrow marks the first day of me being a non smoker.  I am filled with anticipation to see how well I do.  The feeling is rather different than the typical dread I have felt the other two times that I quit.  I have high hopes that this one will stick.  Third times a charm, right?  The unfortunate thing is that I will have to avoid of few of my trigger friends.  Not entirely, but just in certain situations.  I am prepared for the extra weight and have already packed my bag to workout immediately after class tomorrow.  I am mentally prepared for, yet another, lifestyle change.  Might as well make them all in the same year.

This year has been really rough.  But I feel as though I have weeded out and finally found my real friends, stopped drinking, found a bit more positivity in my life, appreciate school much more, and just generally appreciate all of the people that are good in my life.

They say it takes three days for nicotine to get out of your system and the rest is mental.  I may be a raging bitch.  Oh!  And I started my period!  This is a big deal considering that my body has been so out of whack that I haven't really had one in over a year.

This all pleases me tonight.  Tomorrow, however, may be a totally different story.

I just put out my cigarette.  So long my dear yet horrible friend. 

........and moving forward once more.....

The shower of babies.

Today I attended my first baby shower since Dominic died.

Genesis is a dear friend of mine.  We have known each other for years.  Our friendship has had its bumps, but when Dominic died - she was right there by my side.  There are a few good things that come along with loss and all of the revelations that come after a loss.  Finding true friends is one of them.  And, in Genesis - I found a true friend. 

Genesis found out that she was pregnant right around the time that Dominic died.  I (of course) did not know this until a few months later when she made the announcement.  I was so happy for her - I am still so happy for her.  So when I received the invite for her baby shower, there was not one question in my mind as to whether or not I would go.  Of course I would go.

As the days before the shower approached I thought that, perhaps I should give her some of Dominic's stuff.  I have not done anything with the nursery and thought this may be a good way for me to start to figure out what I would want to do with the nursery.  A day before the shower I sifted through Dominic's things and found myself with three gift bags full of things she could use.  In the moment, it felt good - almost peaceful.  It was a bit sad (very sad) when I went through his clothes.  All that I wanted in that moment was to have a baby to put into those clothes.  Afterward, I had to lay down because the sadness was a bit overwhelming.  But I felt much better when I woke up.

The day of the shower came and Katy and I decided to ride together.  I had written a card to Genesis, explaining how these were Dom's things and thanked her for being such a good friend and how I wanted Gus to have some of Dominic's things.  We arrived at the baby shower and it was just that - showered with babies.  There is nothing wrong with this, as it is - obviously, the best place for one million babies to be.  This is just something that I had not thought of prior to my arrival.  I choked back my emotion and moved through it.  I then see Atticus.  Atticus is about three weeks older than Dom would have been.  He is beautiful and amazing and it was simply just so hard seeing where Dominic would be in growth and such thus far.  I ate my lunch and just fell blue.  Aside from the babies, I had counted, at least, three pregnant women.  And I just became more sad.  I asked Katy if we could go and if she could explain things to Genesis (and also asked if I was being bitchy or a baby, just to have confirmation).  As always, Katy had saved the day and I was able to break free just as the tears came pouring out.  I really did not want to make a scene on Genesis's big day.

I guess I just did not realize that maybe I was not ready for that.  Now I know, and I will adjust accordingly.  But, man do I miss Dominic.  ugh......

Let me tell you about my best friend.

First, let's talk about what a best friend is.  I think this term is overused far too frequently.  Often times, people meet a new friend and instantly have a bond and find so much happiness in this newly found friendship and immediately declare that this is their 'best friend'.  Other times people, when asked who their best friend is, lists off, like, five or six people.  Well, that is just breaking the rules.  More often, people who are in relationships or marriages claim that their significant other is their best friend.  Well, that is just a cop out and total bullshit.  And here is why:

1. A 'best friend' is singular.  You can only have one.  Not five or six - or even two.  
2. A 'best friend' implies, the one friend, over all of the rest - that is the best.  (See point one)
3. A best friend, in my case (and I feel, should be the same in all other cases), is someone who knows every bit of you - all of the bullshit that you own - and loves you anyway.  This is called unconditional love - much like a family member (or how family should be, anyway).
4. A best friend does not count as your boyfriend or partner - or whatever because I know (we all know) that there is simply things that you do not tell your partner (like when they are really pissing you off.  Or that the guy that waited on you at that one restaurant was super hot and you would totally sleep with him - if you weren't already attached. You know shit that you tell your best friend.)

Now that that is all squared away, I will introduce you to my best friend.  Her name is Katy.  I met Katy in 1996.  I was fifteen years old and Katy was fourteen years old.  We were on the school bus and I approached her because I really liked the shirt and rings that she was wearing.  There was an immediate connection despite the fact that, from the outside, we appeared to be so very totally mismatched.  But our insides, oh our insides....-well, they were a perfect fit.

Katy was into, what we would have labeled in the '90's as, punk, goth, and folk music.  And she dressed as those three combined.  She loved photography, witchcraft, writing poetry, and listening to music.  I, on the other hand, was - for the most part - popular (not in an arrogant way, I just was a social butterfly, and had many friends), loved name brand clothes (who am I kidding, I still do), and the only punk music I had really listened to was NoFX, Pennywise, and some 'punk' music that my boyfriend played out of his basement in Granger (you can see how punk this music really was not) -  I did, however, enjoy writing poetry and I loved being photographed.  These were the two thing we instantly bonded over.  Katy took pictures and I was in them.  Afterward, we would write our poetry and share it with each other.  With our hangouts ebbing and flowing throughout high school, we were still good friends and close (I have the year book signings to prove it).

I must add, before I move on, that by this time, our families had realized that Katy's mother and my father grew up together.  Such a small world.  Also, Katy's mother and my mother became 'best friends'.  It seemed, at this point, we always had either Katy over or Tina over.  We had already began to become family.

After high school we began to hang out even more.  Katy started dating some douchebag and I dated another.  We all thought it to be a brilliant idea to live together.  So we did.

After those relationships crashed and burned (as they all do, or should do at 19) Katy and I had a brief moment of living separately, then eventually moved back in together again.  At this point we are 20/21 years old.  If I had to pinpoint it, exactly, this is when I believe Katy and I became true - genuine best friends.

Our 20's were the best!  We did everything together.  Essentially (as I stated in her wedding toast), we were everything for each other.  Because of this, our families got to know each other even better and our parents treated us both as their daughters.  Her siblings became my siblings and mine became hers.  We dated boys that were friends and we created a little family of friends that we just adored.  Like I said, we had a blast (I won't go into the gory details of all of the drugs, sex, and rock and roll, but -oops......).  Nonetheless, you get the point.

Katy and I both got married, to 'best friends', actually.  My husband and I were Katy's best man and maid of honor and they were ours.  You would want to puke it seemed so picture perfect.  Before Katy even got married she had told her husband that if he is marrying her, then he is marrying me - and he knew it and agreed.

Katy and I talk, even today, about being soul mates.  We could go through the definition of what a 'soul mate' is and if it even exists, but for sake of argument, I am just going to assume we all know what it is and agree that it is real.  Because if it exists, Katy and I are that to each other.

We have seen each other through marriages, deaths, divorces, family problems, pregnancies, friend problems, affairs, illnesses, diseases, disagreements of our own, and the death of my (essentially, our) child.  She has never wavered in her love and loyalty to me.  Aside from my family, I can wholeheartedly say that I have never had anyone love me that much, not even my (ex)husband.

Katy and I share a lot of similarities (who doesn't when they spend 15 years together), but we are very different, too.  The differences are good - we balance each other out. In jest, I am the devil and she is an angel (if only I could insert a smiley face here).  Like I said, we're the perfect fit.  

I have done things in my life that I am not proud of.  No matter how much Katy disagreed with the things that I had done, she still stood beside me.  I have lost my very own son and she still grieves with me.  I can only hope that I have returned all of the compassion, loyalty, and love that she has shown me.

Now that... - that is a best friend.

The warrior in me.

My health has never before been an issue in my life.  I have always been, for the most part, fit and generally - healthy.  My body has never experienced such a change as it did with Dominic.  I look at photos from when I was pregnant and cannot believe that I was able to stand up, let alone walk all over campus and wait tables for 9 hours a shift.  My belly was enormous and my breast were a very pretty sight.

During delivery my cervix had prolapsed (not completely - it was literally hanging by a thread) and the doctors had to sew it back into it's correct shape (because it had, not only, fallen out of me - but also came undone?  or something?  I still won't let Katy and Christi give me all of the gory details) and put it back into my insides.  My vagina was so swollen for weeks that I was terrified to look at it.  I would not look at it.  Rather, I just had Katy look at it and reassure me that my poor, precious vagina would and was going back to its normal shape.  It did (thank god) - and is even better than before.  (Phew).

Four weeks after delivering Dominic was when I began to get very sick.  I assumed it was the flu, but as the weeks went by and the pounds just fell off - I knew it had to be something else.  By the time that I was diagnosed with Celiac Disease I had lost a total of 22 pounds.  I was 118 lbs.  Gross.  My sister was constantly reminding me how gross I had looked.  I am sure 118 would look good on someone who worked out to get there, but my 118 was no muscle - no fluid - it was gross.  Once I was diagnosed I was pleased to find out that I only needed to be gluten free and my body would heal itself and could have another baby and it would survive (Dominic died because my body attacked him - once he was out of me - my body attacked myself).  For about a month or two I was feeling great being gluten free (aside from the fact that it was as if I had the worst break up ever.  A break up with a lot of my favorite things to eat).

In September I remember, specifically, the day where my vision began to blur.  I think it was only one week of school that I was able to actually concentrate.  From the second week of school through the second week of October, I simply could not concentrate.  I felt overwhelmed and just was not understanding my classes.  It was horrible.  I had told myself a few times, "You know, Erin, this is just how it is now.  You use to love school and now you hate it and you're stupid.  Stop being a wuss."  - You would think after all that I have been through with my body that I would be more self aware by now.  I thought I was having an asthma attack when I had Ray take me to the ER.  I never would have thought in one million years that I would have ketoacidosis and type 1 diabetes.

My diet and lifestyle has changed.  I have to give myself four shots a day just to stay alive.  I have been informed that I may not get Medicaid with my condition - so I am anticipating being even more poor than before.  School is improving immensely and I have learned that blurred vision and lack of focus and concentration is a symptom of my disease.  I am just happy to learn that it wasn't something in me that made me hate school (because I really do love to learn).

While I was in the hospital my doctor told me that, now more than ever, I need to quit smoking.  My having diabetes is as if I had a heartache and my body simply cannot take smoking.  This news sucked to hear.  I mean, after all that I have given up this past year - now I have to give up cigarettes?!?!?  I mean, Katy and I were already planning on quitting and I realllly want to quit - but I kind of wanted to do it on my own terms.  Well, now I cannot.

My quit day is just a few days away.  I have numbers for support groups and Katy and Christi are doing it with me.  I want to be a non-smoker.  I want it so bad.  I am a little scared.  But I really want this - I have for a long time.  And if being married to an addict didn't teach me anything - it did teach me this:  You gotta want it.  And I do. 

And because all things should come with a song:

Halloween-ie.

Fall always reminds me of Matt.  I am not sure why.  He would visit all times of the year, but Halloween was his favorite time of year.  He loved horror movies, dressing up, and the entire ambiance that was Halloween.  There is one Halloween that I will never forget.

I am not sure exactly what year it was - sometime between 2004 and 2006, I do know that.  Matt had come up for a visit and we decided to have dinner at Matuba (his favorite) and then go to the haunted house in Niles.  We arrived at Matuba to find it oddly busy (it was very rare, around the time that we went, that it was busy).  It took a pretty long time for us to get our food.  You could see the frustration and hunger rage that was brewing beneath Matt's brow.  I had never really seen him in this mood before.  It was highly uncomfortable.  Our food came and it (as always) was well worth the wait.  Matt immediately calmed down and enjoyed his food and company.  Something had happened some point during dinner where we had to go back to Katy's house to get Shannon and Chuck.  So we went.

When we got to Katy's house we found all of her lights to be turned off - even the office light was off (and that light is rarely off because, for some reason, the computer was hooked to it and turning it off would turn the computer off - or something).  It was quite bizarre and eerie - then her porch door was locked shut.  This never happens.  It was safe to say, at this point, that we were all a bit freaked out.  After minutes of trying to figure out how to get into the house, Matt realized he had tools in his truck and could unscrew some hinges on the porch door so we could get to the front door to the house.  Once Matt unscrewed the door and proceeded with caution into the house (because now we're most certain someone in hiding in there to kill us all) he found Chuck in the basement hiding along with our friend Carl.  Matt nearly slit Carl's throat.  It was another strange act of Matt's that I had never seen before.  In the end, what had happened was that Chuck, Shannon, and Carl cut the lights to the house and hid from us.  They did not realize that when they shut the porch door behind them - a strand of lights from the porch wrapped around the door - causing it to seem locked to us.  They meant to scare us, and scare us - they did.  So we loaded into vehicles and proceeded to the haunted house.

I do not remember much of the haunted house, except for the fact that I was probably scared shitless (because I swear that if I were a murderer, I'd do most of my killing at the haunted house.  I mean, really - it's genius).  Anyway - there was this one part in the house that I will never forget.  We approached a tent that was covered in fog.  We walked into the fog and realized that we could not see a thing - nothing but fog.  It was, pretty much, the most terrifying thing I had experienced in my life, at that point.  Shannon and I clung to each other for life.  We inched our way through the tent when I suddenly realized a werewolf an inch from my nose.  No exaggeration, an inch from.my.nose.  I dropped to the floor in fear and dragged Shannon down with me.  I was screaming for help and could hear nothing but laughter.  I looked up and could see the end of the tent was only four feet from me.  I rushed to the end to find Matt, Garth, and the werewolf laughing at me.  I was very confused and thought (for some strange reason) that Matt was the werewolf in front of my face (because, truly, only someone you know well would dare enter my personal space the way that damn stranger did).  The guys were in stitches laughing at me.  Matt just thought it was the funniest thing ever.  He saw the entire thing happen.

I don't remember much of the rest of the night.  I am sure it ended with me being chased by some asshole chainsaw guy that made me pee my pants in fright, but I know it was fun. 

I miss Matt.

The day of the divorced.

On Saturday Katy and I were driving to a gathering in her car.  She put a song on that she thought I would really like.  It prompted a conversation about another song that she and Shannon had played for me the day that I decided to divorce Garth.

I hadn't heard the song since that day, it was nearly 2 1/2 years ago and I never could remember what it was called or who sang it - and I always forgot to ask Shannon and Katy.  I finally remembered to ask and Katy also could not remember.  So I called Shannon.  After she told me the title and artist I said to her, "I just realized how weird it is that I decided to get a divorce while I was in a car with you and Katy."  Shannon replied, "Yea, what is even more weird is that you actually went through with it..., mostly because we say we're going to do a lot of things and never follow through with it."  We laughed and said our goodbyes.  This then made me recall the day I decided to get a divorce.

It was sometime in April of 2009.  Katy, Shannon, and I were at Friday's or something having dinner.  This was during the period where Garth and I were "working" on things.  I am quoting 'working' because it was not really that.  You see, in this period Garth and I had agreed to not speak or see Ray or Nikki.  Well, Garth really didn't follow through with that.  I believe it was the night before my dinner with Katy and Shannon that I was on the phone with Garth and Nikki had just swung by his house at 1am.  He could not just tell her to leave him alone and let him figure things out - and well, I was just at my wits end.  So, anyway - back to the story.  We were sitting at our table and the girls were talking about stuff - random stuff - movies, music - whatever.  And for some reason I just could not stay focused on what they were talking about.  I could not think about anything other than my current situation.  It was all consuming.  I was exhausted of my life revolving around all of the drama that had been going on.  I just could not take it anymore.  I was so tired of it all.  I stopped the girls conversation and we began to discuss, once more, all of the drama that came along with my marriage.  I felt bad interrupting the conversation for, yet again, my stupid marriage - but the girls understood.  We talked and talked about how frustrated I was.  I just wanted to scream.  We left the restaurant and got into Katy's car.  Shannon put a song on and said that this song reminded her of Garth and I.  I took one listen and it was right then that I decided to just - be done.  That his inability to put aside one thing for some sort of resolution with another was his decision and that I just needed to bow out.

So I did.

Here's the song.

I am blogging solely because I want to record how awesome I feel today. 

The shaking, confusion, and blurry vision has cleared up.  My concentration and comprehension seems to be going back to normal.  I could not be happier at the moment.  My classes seem to be easier and I feel all around better about my entire situation.  I feel like Rocky Balboa right now (even though I have never seen any of the movies, there's like, 12, right?). 

Nonetheless - I feel good.

That exhaustion I was talking about - and those deep sighs.  Yea, not exhaustion.  Type 1 diabetes, rather.  *sigh - this year has been too much.

Last week I went into the ER thinking I was having an asthma attack, when indeed, I was having a case of Ketoacidosis.  My sugar was sky high, and if I had fallen asleep that night, I may have not woken up the next morning.  I was in ICU for some days, then in recovery.  Needless to say - I am insulin dependent now.  I also have hypo-thyroid.  So I am on meds for that now, as well.  Not to mention that the day after I got out of the hospital my mother's best friends daughter died from the cancer she has been battling since January.  This year has been too much. 

We just got home from the viewing.  Tomorrow is the funeral.  I was not thinking tonight and didn't really realize that it would be a weird little high school reunion at this viewing.  Bizarre.  I just feel horrible for the family and for my mom.  This year.... *sigh.........

I am trying to get use to administering my own shots 4 times a day and the feeling of being on insulin.  My vision is blurry and it is hard to focus.  If I pass all of my classes this semester I will be proud of myself.  It is very hard to concentrate.  I have good days and bad.  I am barely working and just struggling to keep my shit together.

I nearly had a melt down at the funeral tonight.  I really just feel so out of control.  We had to push back our vacation and that really sucks.  The good part is that we're probably going to go in January when we may need it the most.  I am sure Christmas will be a rough one without Dominic.  How much is one person suppose to handle?  I am starting to feel like I'm going to crumble to bits.

And so here's a song I have fallen in love with as of recently.  It's the best and I love singing along to it.

Labor Day.

It is the end of summer.  It is the end of, what could have been - or with some other perspective was the worst summer of my life.

I was sick from April 29-July 17, it was horrible.  During that time I could do nothing but lay around on the couch - or near a pool (the pool HAD to be near a bathroom for my random spurts of vomiting and such).  I could get on my knees and thank God so very much for providing me with the most amazing support group.  Jessica Longenecker who sat on my couch with me for countless hours watching mindless television because she knew I just needed company.  Annie Logan, for lounging in and near her pool because she knew that all that I really wanted (and really needed) was vitamin D and good company.  Katy Hoyt and Christi Milliken for making me get out of the house for trivia nights and other random adventures because they knew that I needed to continue socializing, otherwise I would shrivel up in my own depression.  Raymond Phillips for catering to me, worrying about me, and letting me not work or go to school because he knew better than I even knew - that I needed to heal emotionally.  Megan White, and all of my Le Peep ladies who would just sit with me for entire days at a time talking with me about Dominic and crying with me, and researching as much as we could - trying to figure out what was wrong with me.  Anneke Haas who cooked for me, every Wednesday night because she knew that I needed to eat.

After July 17th I was able to enjoy 3 weeks of summer.  I went to my uncles pool at least 3 times a week to talk with my cousin and heal.  I was able to hang out with Glenn Mead before he left for Hawaii.  I pretty much stole all of his time - and he let me.

I have started school and have gone back to work, but it is today that summer is "officially" over.  And as I reflect on what, truly, could have been the worst summer ever, I realize that it may have been the best.  Because of this illness and loss - I have been able to reflect on my life and do serious self examination and have grown more than I have ever thought to believe possible.

I am a Phoenix who did dare to rise up from the ash.  And I am proud.

I went to the beach today.  I have gone a lot since I have been diagnosed and am able to not shit my pants all of the time.  It's quite lovely (not shitting my pants AND going to the beach).  Today, I went with Leslie.  We were there for quite some time and it was beautiful out.  We swam for a very long time, then just passed out on our towels.  On the drive home we listened to some very nostalgic music.  We talked of Matt and cried a little.  We took the scenic route, so it's pretty safe to say that this was, indeed, the best trip to the beach this summer.

I arrived home and Ray was already at work.  It was 5pm and the dishes were done (which is the direct route to my heart).  I began cooking (which is a very new and fun hobby of mine).  I cooked in the quiet house and chatted with Beatrice.  Once dinner was done, I sat to watch a movie.  30 minutes in my mother calls to see if I wanted to drive up to the girls campsite this evening.  I had just settled in for the evening so I declined the invite and had extended an invite for my mother to come watch movies with me.  She accepted and is on her way over now.

Tomorrow morning Katy and I are going for a very long walk to kick off our Labor Day weekend.  Half way through the walk, we will stop at Jamba Juice because I have just discovered my love for it and it is, basically, the only way you can get me up and walking butt early on a Saturday morning.

Dominic would have been 5 months old today.  I can not believe it has been 5 months since I've seen that face.  I still miss him so much.

I am starting to lose my hair.  This happens with Celiac Disease.  I started a 2 month vitamin regimen in hopes it will help the situation.  We shall see.  I had a mini meltdown the other day.  I just let Ray hold me as I cried into his shirt.  *sigh.....

My classes are awesome this semester.  I am really looking forward to it all. 

We are going on holiday in late September to Gatlinberg.  The house we got is amazing.  I think this trip will do good for all of our hearts. 

The other day I caught myself saying that I love my 30's.  It was weird, considering all that has happened thus far.  I just think I am way more equipped now to be dealing with all of this stuff.  Even though it is still gut wrenching complex and devastating.

I still haven't heard from Medicaid regarding my court date.  I hope I really socked it to 'em.

Posting an entire update would be far too daunting for this lady....  Rather, I'll post a list.

• After 32 blood draws, 8 stool samples, an EKG, 2 ultra sounds on my guts, a colonoscopy, and an upper endoscopy we have concluded that I have Celiac Disease.
• Because of this disease, it is very likely the reason Dominic did not survive.
• This feeling is very bittersweet.  I am happy to have an "answer", but sad that the only thing I had to have done is taken gluten out of my diet to have my guy here with me.
• This lifestyle change has been overwhelming, but empowering. Because of the change I have taken very well to learning how to cook - well.
• I am feeling very VERY healthy lately - thank god.  I was, literally, starving to death.
• I have been going to therapy once a week and am starting to learn to move forward.
• I have read countless books on grieving and am learning to embrace my loss and move through it.
• I am still sad - all of the time - but able to laugh, love, and keep him with me, everyday.
• I have been back to work for 3 weeks now and am happy to contribute to the house.  It feels good.
• I start school in one week and have finished most of my classes from the Spring semester.
• I buzzed my head - like, with a buzzer.  It was another Britney Spears freak out.  That is okay.
• Ray is working full time at Replicant and part time at the liquor store - and it's going very well.

Here is a beautiful song that has become our family song in our house.  It reminds me of Ray and Dominic.  I love it.

It's July 2nd.  Dominic would have been 3 month old today.  It seems as though the days go by so quickly only to come to a complete halt on the 2nd.  Everything just stops for me. 

I have still been very sick.  I have an appointment with a GI specialist on the 7th.  They are thinking that I have Crohn's Disease.  I have researched this disease and I am pretty much the text book definition.  I have lost nearly 25 pounds.  I am a meager 120 lbs - literally soaking wet.  This morning I was at 115, but I am always able to put water weight on throughout the day to bring me to 120 - at least.  I don't feel comfortable this thin.

There is no definitive way to link this disease to pregnancy and I am currently in appeal with my Medicaid in hopes that it will cover all of my appointments, blood draws, ultra-sounds, and future appointments.  I do not think it will.  If I could link the two with validity, it may - but I am not confident that it will.

Aside from trying to feel better and really wanting to get back to work the stress of my not working and not contributing to our income is beginning to become stressful.  I cannot imagine how we would have done financially if everyone that donated money to us, hadn't. 

Medicaid and money, or lack thereof is an entire other stress that I should not be having to deal with right now.  But such is life.

Not one second goes by that I don't think about Dominic.  I miss him all of the time - it is consuming me.  It has not paralyzed me since May, so I think this is normal.  The anti-depressants are really helping.  I have finished my Spanish class and managed to do so with an A.  I earned another A from another class and only have 2 more classes to make up.  It feels good to continue on with finishing my semester.  It is, however, a lot harder than I thought it would be.  I am now fancying myself to be quite the warrior - and it is, literally, all that is motivating me to push through this grief in a healthy way.

I have stopped my group therapy.  The more that I am healing, the more I tend to find myself only wanting to talk about Dominic to people that I really know.  People that cared about him.  My sister says that it is okay for me to feel that way.  I am always asking, hoping to gain some insight as to whether or not I am being a total nut job about the loss of my son.

Katy, Christi, and Ray have all continued to be my rocks.  They are my heroes.  I really am so very grateful for them.  My mom and dad worry about my health, and I hate that they do so while they are also still grieving.  I just never like seeing my parents so sad or worried.

I could type more, but my battery is about to die.  I have no idea when I will write more.

My life has changed completely and forever.  I have not blogged on this for awhile for one million reasons.  I am just, a different person. 

I don't really know how people continue on with life after losing a baby.  I have re-read some earlier entries that I had written about Dominic and it had never occurred to me that he would not survive.  No one tells you that sometimes baby's hearts just stop beating.  I feel betrayed by that lack of knowledge.  It is just something you never think about. 

I have lost the love of my life forever.  And I miss him every second of every second.  It is all that I can think about.  I was in shock and disbelief in April and fell into a horribly paralyzing depression in May.  It is now June.  I have been deathly ill as my stress has been physically manifesting itself.  I have been put on anti-depressants.  I am feeling like I can laugh and smile without guilt now.

The autopsy came back.  He was perfect.  There is absolutely no reason that I did not get to keep my baby.  None.  That is a hard and heavy pill to swallow - especially when I feel I will be choking on it forever.

I am figuring out how to manage my sadness.  This gut wrenching pain that I will forever have to live with.  Suddenly all of those things that bothered me or annoyed me or made me angry before - just seem so trivial.  All of the people that irritated me - or that I disliked - I am completely apathetic about.

It is bizarre.  This shift inside of me is indescribable. 

I miss Dominic.  My entire existence is me missing him.  It's a heavy heavy feeling.

I miss Dominic.

Things are not good.

That is an understatement.  I have been hand writing in a journal.  I am not sure how much I will be blogging via internet any more.  Not for awhile, anyway. 

SBRG one year

Last night was SBRG's one year birthday party.  I can not believe it has only been one year.  Insane how quickly it has grown.  I have not yet decided to which degree I would rejoin SBRG after the baby is born.  It's a hard call.  I have three months of just baby - no work or school, I would totally have time for derby again.  I am just worried that I will not be able to commit after the summer.  I have thought about being just a referee, but again - I don't want to have to drop out.  I definitely do not want to coach again.  If I do anything, it would be on skates.  I'm just not sure what to do.

Either way, it was really nice to visit and dance with all of the girls that I have worked so hard with.  I am so proud of all that we have done.  I remember all of the very long, hard hours put in - not only in skates, but on the phone and internet, as head of PR.  It was not easy. 

I wish Matt were alive.  And I wish he would have been able to see what we had done.  I know he was really proud and excited for Sean, Shannon, and I - but I would have really liked to have him see us in action.  He absolutely loved derby.  Ugh.  I miss him.

I am super irritated today.  Because people are so damn childish.  It really makes me laugh. 

And I probably am talking about you.

Meh.

Buddy's birthday was 5 days ago.  I haven't gone to see him yet.  Because the weather is cold for walks right now.  Because I'm so pregnant that every time that I walk - I have to pee. 

I went pee the other day and pulled up my pants.  And had to pee again.  This is getting ridiculous.

Life is about to get insane.  Traci is coming home with the boys at the end of April and we are to celebrate Christi's graduation with commencement.  I should have the baby by then, and at the start of May I have finals.  So, for like - 3 weeks, life will be chaotic.  But once school is out, I should be able to relax and settle into this whole "being a mom" thing.  My last day of work is April 3rd and I could not be more excited.  It is just getting too hard and working for 8 hours puts me out of commission for the rest of the day.  It is simply exhausting.

Otherwise, things have been going great.  The weather could be better - but in Indiana, it could always be better.

Windows are open

....and I'm just going to sit back and remember how much I love 80's/90's r&b.  Fuck it.