I can be surrounded by people, and I just feel so alone. So utterly desperately alone. I feel abandoned by my husband, he just doesn't get it. 8 months on Thursday, jeez, when is the 24th? It's like my subconscious knows it, but the rest of me is on pause while the world moves on around me.

I get 'better' I get 'worse' I get really 'better' then I get really 'worse'. I just want to disappear. Why do I feel so alienated around my old family and friends? I think they're plotting against me. They don't like my drinking, blah, blah, blah, they worry because I've lost a lot of weight. I don't know what to say? I'm not hungry. Food does not bring me joy.

My self worth is shattered. My body killed my baby, somehow, someway, and someday I'll know. Well, it's either drink and sleep at 10 or be up til 3, and I prefer to take some ibuprofen and handle the hangover, then miss sleep, wake up late for work (which I eerily don't get hangovers anyway) and I haven't had any blackouts, I'm maintaining.

Oh, fuck me, I'm just defeated, and the thoughtless comments have only just begun. My mom is putting pressure on me to be 'stronger', everyone wants the 'old Trish', my dad asked me if I was going to have another baby. They STILL don'te get that I will never the be the good ole predictable, debatin', grinning, thriving woman I once was. That's not me, they don't get it. My husband says he doesn't know me anymore, and I'm like, "join the club". Hell, I'd like to be let in cause I don't know what I'm going to do half the time; how I'm going to react.

Oh, this has turned into the nightmare blog of the century. On a happy note, I axed down a cedar today for my Myles garden (sorry Leigh, I do want to comment but sometimes I can't) and it just brought out so much anger. Has anyone here used an axe, they're fantastic, but where gloves. Of course, now I've got this tree to move but that didn't occur to me as I cussed at it and pulled on it, and tore that sucker to the ground. But darn it, my butterfly bushes and snowball bush weren't getting enough sun!

On an angry note, there was another burial in baby land today, I just drive up knowing, saying 'no, no, no, not another' seeing the awning, getting angry as I get closer, so mad it has happened again. Just so mad, I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have that 15 foot cedar to chop down.

Okay, I am losing. Don't know if it's just life (my laptop died, my transmission went out, my cell phone got lost) and I DO feel like Dory off of 'finding Nemo'. I hate the new me as much as my family, don't know how much I loved the 'old me' even then. So I'm just like everyone else, except I get to worry about being worried about, yipee.

I feel so alone, but surrounded by TOO many people who love me TOO much.
MISSing my son TERRIBLY, today, and always. I love you, Myles.

Can I rant about women's health issues?!

I mean, this is my research, so most of my ranting takes place in a confined academic setting where I can't actually 'rant' more like humbly share my opinion in 10 to 15 second intervals. I'm finding this all overlapping with my freakishly fucked up life and I'm just in the need to write a rant that covers the gamut of what I do each fucking day.

This morning, I woke up to this article:
http://www.time.com/time/health/article/0,8599,1823096,00.html?cnn=yes
Now, Cochrane reviews are the BOMB. And I know women who have had many benign biopsies that are fucking painful.

So, as a society, we're all obsessively individualistic. In the health world? Yep, it's all on US (me and you), ladies and gents. So as a public health person, there is nothing that pisses me off more than this individualistic view on health aimed at changing our individual behaviors and SHIFTING responsibility, guilt, blame, and shame on us.

What does this relate to, oh let me think . . . KICK COUNTS . Yes, you know, that magical solution to stillbirth. For the record, fuck kick counts. Yep. That's right. I would never tell anyone to do them, I didn't do them, and they wouldn't have done shit for me. So I'm not carrying that baggage for the public health community any fucking more. What else does this relate to, BED REST, CERCLAGES, FETAL MONITORING on low-risk pregnancies, pap smears (which are only really needed every three years if that!).

You know what else? Fuck self breast exams, I don't fucking do them, I NEVER have, and I HAVE FELT GUILTY. NOT ANY MORE!!!!

Fuck it all, because at this point, I don't think there is anything in women's health that is EVIDENCE BASED, it's all a bunch of fucking bullshit. And I'm tired of carrying this individualistic bucket of water around for the public health community and for the peace of mind of doctors who don't miss a wink of sleep over recommending stupid spoonfed BULLSHIT about CHOICES.

So, here is my message to the public health community, and this is my goal as a reasearcher, as a woman, as a mother to a daughter; get the fuck off our backs and start working on the motherfucking institutional and socioeconomic causes OF BREAST CANCER, CERVICAL CANCER, and STILLBIRTH and PREMATURE LABOR. Because there are studies, a fucking ton of them if you ever wanted to pick up a Soc of health journal or gender and health book written by sociologists that indicate this shit is societal. We are organizing our society in a way that HURTS WOMEN'S HEALTH. And, because we live longer, but have more disabilities (yes, took a comprehensive exam on this issue), it's in our societies economic interests to FUCKING DO IT.

Thank you. Had to get that off my chest this morning before I go talk about this bullshit all day at work with a big grin on my face being a yes girl to all the psychologists and MALE MD's who think they know what the fuck they're doing.

Wisdom from my Simone

I'm drying my tears, I can't tell if I'm crying because I'm happy or sad, has anyone felt that way before? I had to share this discussion before we leave town today.

Simone watches NOGGIN, which is like channel 36 here, and it doesn't have commercials and it's for preschoolers, blah, blah, blah. Well, in between shows they have these series' that teach and help kids learn, and one they introduced recently was Babu (a preschooler) and his pregnant mommy. It's very cute, the family is cute, the narrator talks with happy music in the background as the Babu helps is pregnant mom. Under most circumstances, it's fuckin' adorable. It's something I would've been all over last summer, showing Simone how she was just like the little boy on tv.

This summer, I see it, and I'm annoyed. I do my best to not have a reaction because I don't want Simone to know my aversion to this stuff, but she knows. Well today we saw the snippet (in between shows, I'm folding laundry, Simone's coloring) where the mom brings baby home and they talk about their cultural traditions, and how 'now he's a big brother' (as if he wasn't when his mom was pg, just a peeve) and I take a short breath and just leave the room. I'm cleaning so I didn't think Simone would notice. Well, she's more astute than I give her credit for. I come back five minutes later (I'd forgotten the commercial, the whole point of walking away) but then Simone says:

Simone: Mom, does watching Babu and the baby remind you of Myles?

Me: Yes (I say gently), does it remind you of Myles?

Simone: Yes

Me: What does it make you think of ?(I'm preparing for something really depressing, like I think, about him not being here, and us not bringing him home. You know, things I think when I see those commercials). Instead:

Simone: It makes me think about when Myles was in your tummy and we would sing to him and he'd kick me with his little foot, laughing the whole time.

Me: (surprised, joyous, stupored) yeah, he made us so happy didn't he?
Simone: Mom, maybe you and dad need to write that down, you know, like on a list, so you don't forget it.

She's so amazing, and so right, I see those commercials and all I think of is the bad, but good old Simone, this whole time when she's zombified watching this scenario on tv she's so familiar with, she's remembering how much fun we had. Why can't I be more like her. One more time, Simone takes my breath away, just like the day she was born, you know?