We've been seeing a lot of theatre lately. Two weeks ago we went with my dad, stepmother, and stepgrandmother Nabu (more on them shortly) to see a matinee of The Lion King in London. My family very kindly treated all of us to seats about 10 rows from the stage, smack in the middle of the theatre. None of us had ever seen The Lion King, and Nabu in particular was extremely keen to see it.

It was unbelievable.

The costumes themselves were amazing. The dancing, the singing, the sheer commitment of the actors, even on a Wednesday matinee....we were thoroughly impressed. It was fantastic.

Tonight, Angus and I are off to London as I've booked tickets to see Wicked. I'm nearly wetting myself in anticipation. I first read the book Wicked in 1997 as a poor soulless post-college slave in a stockbroking firm, and I was wildly in love with it from word go. Wicked the show has finally come to London and luckily we get to go-the tickets were so expensive they made my hands shake as I entered my credit card details on the website (is it too socialist of me to wish that theatre tickets were free? Work is life, comrade?) but we have great seats and we get to see the lead, Idina Menzel, who originated the role of Elphaba on Broadway (she's only here for three months).

And then Angus, taking pity on me because I have missed How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria? so much (I can't believe I got addicted to a reality show), booked us tickets to see The Sound of Music. Due to the popularity of the reality show, the first time we can get see it is March 2007, so we've a long wait.

But I love seeing these shows, and I'm a bit like a kid in a candy shop just now.

So hey. A little culture.

***************************************

We've also stepped up the holiday plans. We're leave in a week and a half for a 5-day stay in the far northern Highlands in Scotland (including a stay at a whiskey distillery). We both love Scotland, and the way up there we're travelling by sleeper train. Now, I suffer from sleep issues but sleeper cars? I sleep like a baby.

November we're off to my friend's wedding in Atlanta, albeit taking an incredibly circuitous route and only staying 4 days. But still...Target. There's an enormous Target close to the hotel. That's all I can say about that.

Then because we have a British Airways American Express card and we reached a certain limit on it, we got a "buy one ticket, get one free" voucher. Plus, Angus has masses of air miles. So, with recent stresses on our mind and a need to cheer up, we decided to go away for New Years. We have his kids for Christmas but they have to go back to Sweden just after, so we did some searching. The goal was to use these vouchers and fuck off to Australia, while upgrading to business class, and spend New Years there. Turns out offers to Australia fill up a year in advance, so that was a no-go.

So we booked something else.

We fly in to Seattle two days after Christmas in business class, and once there we'll then go spend three days with my dad, stepmother, and Nabu. Then we hire a car and drive up to Canada to the ski area of Whistler, where we've pushed the boat out and booked a posh hotel, so we can go skiing and ring in the New Year and drink and relax for 6 days.

A New Year, a New Start, right?

Then we fly home.

In first class, something neither of us have ever done.

Frequent flier miles rule.

***************************************

On the work front, I rejected Option A. I thanked them very much. I told them I was honored but due to compensation, I couldn't accept their offer, and wished them the best of success. There have been no hard feelings (I know this, I do work with them still.) I recognized the job for what it was-the chance at a massive leg-up. An opportunity to bust through a glass ceiling, the first step to management. I saw it....and I said goodbye to it.

It's just not what I want for myself right now.

And this isn't about me, as a woman, not being strong enough to do this. This isn't about me, as a woman, caving in and saying: I can't do this fight. This isn't about me, as a woman, settling for a lesser position because I'm afraid I can't hack it in that role.

This is about me, as a woman with history and issues, putting her health and her happiness first.

I haven't accepted Option B yet because I'm just not sure if the job is something I really want-I'm not very excited about the product itself, and I worry that if I can't get excited about the product it will relate as me being lax in my role. I do have to find something as the project I'm on finishes the end of the year, and although I won't lose my job at the end of it, I'd rather choose what I'm going to do next as opposed to my bosses just moving me to what they want me to do.

Jump, not push.

I'm getting there.

-H.

PS-I've been invited by Maison Pants to join the Flickr Group called 365Days-it's about self-portraits, everyday for one year. I thought it was nice and introspective, and a great idea. I've joined, so if you see a lot of pics of myself in my Flickr account, I assure you I have not become a practicing narcissist.

PPS-it's that time again. It's picture taking in our house this weekend, so get your wallets ready-we even do the "not safe for work" portion of the site. October is all about pumpkins, fallen leaves, apple cider...and boobies.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 11:08 AM | Comments (10) | Add Comment
Post contains 1023 words, total size 6 kb.

1 I just posted a Boobie link myself. Hopefully we can raise even more this year.

Posted by: Mia at September 29, 2006 11:54 AM (OQZ7R)

2 They've been advertising the Lion King coming to Raleigh for a few months now. It seems really cool but I doubt I'll be able to convince anyone to go.

Posted by: Erin at September 29, 2006 02:29 PM (zw8QA)

3 I live a few hours' drive from Whistler, and it's gorgeous (they just opened a bunch of new alpine terrain, making it the largest ski area in North America). You'll love it I'm sure!

Posted by: loribo at September 29, 2006 02:58 PM (RYVp+)

4 Wicked was incredible. You won't be disappointed. I didn't read the book until after I saw the play, so I'm a little biased towards the play over the book, but I liked the book a lot. As for your upcoming trip to Scotland, say hello to the valleys of green and grey for me. Lord only knows if I'll ever make it back there to say hello myself.

Posted by: amy t. at September 29, 2006 06:10 PM (3dOTd)

5 I am highly jealous that you are going to Wicked. HIGHLY. I love it too. Of course, I live less than 2 miles from what used ot be the world's biggest Target and I go at least once a week to walk around, if nothing else. Don't forget us lowly peons in your jet-setting adventures

Posted by: caltechgirl at September 29, 2006 09:10 PM (r0kgl)

6 My daughter gave us tickets for the Lion King as an early birthday prsent for me. We saw it 2 weeks ago and I am still thinking about how fabulous it was! Heard Wicked was wonderful too. Your travel plans sound fabulous; especially New Year's! Good for you.

Posted by: kenju at September 29, 2006 09:47 PM (2+7OT)

7 When in Seattle you would be remiss not to stay at the Edgewater Hotel, http://www.edgewaterhotel.com/ and get a first floor water room, fishing pools provided!

Posted by: Fred at September 30, 2006 03:31 AM (JXMxY)

8 Ooh, I live in Atlanta, and I love Target, too. There's a fabulous two-story (it has an escalator especially for your CART!) Target on Peachtree just north of Lenox Mall, and there's a Super-Monster-Fuck Off-Target (or whatever they're called) on North Druid Hills, east of 85 (left side if you're eastbound.)

Posted by: Marian at September 30, 2006 03:27 PM (ZD4nv)

9 If you ever do get to Australia - I'm in Melbourne and would LOVE to show you guys around. )

Posted by: Flikka at October 01, 2006 05:33 AM (dh/+g)

10 Hurray for Boobies! I just charged up the camera battery this morning and will be taking some pictures tonight as well as making my donation so I get to see all the "not safe for work" goodies.

Posted by: girl at October 03, 2006 04:08 PM (ZIi+3)

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I stand in the doorway of his study, unsure what to say.

I look like shit.

I feel like shit.

We've been arguing because neither of us knows what the hell to do about me, and today? Today is Armistice Day.

He tilts his head back to look at me.

I shrug my hands inside of my sweater. I bite my lower lip. I sniff (the flu). I fidget.

Then I swing my arms out and start doing the bus driver dance move.

If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life, never make a pretty woman your wife!
So from my personal point of view, get an ugly girl to marry you!

I sing this.

He blinks, and then grins.

I fidget again.

You do what you can.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 04:02 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
Post contains 140 words, total size 1 kb.

I have all day meetings, all days. I catch a train to Clapham Junction, catch a train to Kew Bridge, catch a train to a conference call and pin number. I spend the day in a hot room with men shouting and their business suit collars sticking up. The tables are graveyards for careers and sanity, our phones littering the space like tombstones-Here Lies Reginald, His Ring Tone Born To Be Wild, May He Rest In Peace.

Finally, it is time to leave. I have spent 10 hours of my day there, and I am tired. When I leave the building dusk is coming-Autumn has arrived and brought with it rain and chill, leaves curling from drought-stricken trees like the wrapping of a too-loved crayon. I sidestep puddles and lug my bag closer to me.

Everything about me is tired.

When I get on the train it is packed with people who radiate exuberance. I look around and think I am the oldest person on the train, and I'm not even thinking about age. When I catch sight of myself, a reflection in the darkened window, I am shocked-the deep rings under my eyes look like bruises. I am so completely and utterly sunken that I don't know how people bear it.

Everything about me is defeated.

I get off the train at Clapham, to discover I have to change trains twice more just to try to get home. I am so tired I can't stand it. When I get on the train both myself and two others give up their seat to accommodate a party of elderly travelers-it is our good deed of the day and we fold up like grasshoppers on the carpeted floor of Southwest Trains. Someone smells like L'Air Du Temps, and my jeans feel too tight against my bloated middle. My insect stance has me in the glare of a wall of glass and as I've forgotten my book and am too tired to move, I just look at myself.

Everything about me is broken.

Some days are better than others. I have whole moments when I don't think about it before I remember, and I am nearly crippled with emotions I don't know how to deal with. I cannot step outside of myself and my doctor has refused to prescribe me anything that will help shoehorn me out, so things are one thousand times harder. Someone once commented that they love it when bad things happen to me. I guess that person is happy now.

I've given up looking for answers because there aren't any. It's hard to remember that sometimes, when sucking the foam from the lid of my latte I have a flash, an idea. The flash passes and all that remains is the knotty feeling that warm milk gives me.

I just don't know.

My father was just here. While sitting in the plush chairs of a London theatre about to be entertained and amused by a West End show, he tells me that he always helps my sister out (financially, he says, but what he doesn't know is an affection-starved person views any attention as attention-finance is just the grease to the glare of adoration) because she needs it. She needs help. She can't do it on her own. You, he says, you don't need anyone. You get knocked down (but I get up again) by life and you take care of yourself. She cannot survive without help. You, you are so fiercely independent, you can do anything.

No! I want to scream. You have it all wrong! I pick myself up because I have to! If I had any idea you would've been there for me had I not solved my own crisis, I would'e called you. I am not a hero. I am not strong. I didn't have any other choice, it was fix myself and try again or die.

I don't want to be the strong one. I fucking hate it, I rage at myself and the world, I have moths in my cape and I can't find my other shoe, please don't think of me as put together. I can't keep anything safe, not my mind, not my heart, not even my embryos.

This day, today, is a down.

It happens, and then there is an up.

Maybe tomorrow is better.

I can only wait and see.

Everything about me is wait and see.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 06:03 AM | Comments (10) | Add Comment
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Last year at Christmas the CEO sent over a Christmas bonus-it was wholly unexpected but thoroughly welcomed (and I sent him back a thank you note and, unlike the kind you had to send as a kid thanking Great-Aunt Mildred for those bright orange socks, I meant every word of it.) The bonus had a cash lump sum and something called a Gold Red Letter Day, meaning I could go to the Red Letter Days' website and book up anything I wanted, up to £1000. Luckily, I also had some Red Letter Day vouchers from another award (thus the grand total of Red Letter vouchers was something like £1500), so Angus and I mulled over the Red Letter Days website in detail. We finally chose two activities-we're spending half a week in Scotland in mid-October, and we chose spend a day on the Orient Express.

The Orient Express is something that always intrigued both of us, but seeing as how the cost of two tickets is equivalent to airfare to New Zealand, we knew it would never happen. But with the Red Letter Day, luckily we did get to try it. We opted to go on a day trip to Rye, a very old coastal village in the south of England (at the time, we hadn't known we could've taken the Orient Express to York, which is slightly more appealing as neither of us have ever been to York. Oh well.)

We showed up at Victoria Station feeling bleary-eyed-Victoria is not easy to get to from our home during Peak Travel times and we'd had to leave really early that morning to get there in time. We sign in and are giving our seating-we were to be on the Lucille Coach, seats 15 and 16.

OK, cool.

We wait with many others who are dressed up-although the tickets urged us to dress in 1920's fashion, I knew there was absolutely no way anti-costume Angus was going to do that (I love the fashion of that time, but I wasn't going to dress up like a Flapper, regardless.) Waiting there, I saw no one else did, either. The other patrons were wearing business suits and dresses, and in general they were older and middle-aged couples. I think it's possible I was the youngest person there, but that just meant more champagne for me.

The train finally showed. It hauled onto the platform and people on other platforms stopped and stared-it's honestly an amazing train.

(That's me with Starbucks. Coffee must be had in the morning or I can't function.)

Once on, we couldn't believe it. It was so sumptuous, it was incredible. All of the Pullman cars were originals from the 1920's, all fully restored to original condition using methods from 1920's construction. The walls had inlaid designs from holly bushes, the seats were plush, and the china and crystal were real.

Even the toilets were amazing-stained glass windows, dark cherry wood, original mosaic tiles in the design of African wildlife, and original silver pipes.

(Why yes, I asked Angus to take a pic of the toilet. Lucky for me, he did.)

I couldn't believe it. I was afraid to touch anything. I was afraid to breathe. Everything was so pristine, so beautiful.

They came round with bellinis and breakfast-fresh fruit, followed by salmon with caviar and scrambled eggs with chives. I had never had food like this for breakfast-with the exception of the weekends we tend to be yogurt and cereal kinds of people but hey-when in Rome and all that.

Across from us sat a wealthy couple from Malta-we talked a bit, chatted, and then went about our business of being gobsmacked from the glamour of a train ride.

We also got giggly from the bubbly.

When we got to Ashford, we hopped off the train to be taken via coach to Rye, a lovely seaside village. Unfortunately, the coach also came with a tour guide who talked.

Extensively.

About everything.

We heard about buildings. We heard about minerals in the area. We heard about the various flora and fauna that grew on the pebbly beach (at which point my suicidal tendencies started re-surfacing). We heard about famous people from the turn of the century who had lived in the area. I think it was right about the time that she was listing all of the birds and types of birds found in the area that I switched from "suicide" to "Red Rum" perspective.

Finally, we were in Rye.

We walked around-bought a few antiques (him, a 1920's lampshade that's now hanging in our bathroom. Me, an even older wire egg basket that I'm going to use to hold firewood.) We ate fresh quiche and walked through cobbled streets.

Then we met the Orient Express back in Hastings (as in: Battle of).

It's a pretty train, huh?

The attendant in his livery met each of us at our train cars (they wore white gloves even. WHITE GLOVES. How do they keep them clean?)

Once inside, we were treated to a four-course meal, flowing champagne and sauvignon blanc, and I have to confess-we started getting a bit pickled.

(You can see the original lighting fixtures and the inlaid wood behind Angus here.)

The train was unbelievable. But even more unbelievable was that people gathered on train platforms and stared. They took pictures with cameras and camera phones. Passing through neighborhoods, people came out of their homes to stand and stare, and most of them waved to the train. When they did that, we'd wave back.

And I felt so incredibly, unbelievably shocked. I had this wonderful experience, this chance to do something that I never could have foreseen-I got to ride on this famous train and spend a day in a type of luxury I could never have imagined. Here they were, people coming out and waving at the train, taking pictures of it, the train running on tracks in their imagination...yet there I was, a chick who has the background I do-I come from origins so humble they have no claim to modesty. I'm a nothing. I don't deserve to ride a train as sumptuous as this one (much of the time, I don't deserve.) I am a stranger in a strange land but-more than that-I'm a stranger inside. I'm not posh, I didn't even pay for my ticket, the company did.

But I waved back.

Maybe it doesn't matter how I got there, all that matters is I was there.

The trip was brilliant. And I am so hugely thankful that I got to experience a day like that.

We both are.

-H.

PS-like others, we totally kept our champagne glasses (one of which has already accidentally been broken). We may have had this remarkable chance but we're still riffraff, really.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 12:37 PM | Comments (18) | Add Comment
Post contains 1139 words, total size 8 kb.

1 I'm so completely jealous at the same time that I'm so glad that you had a wonderful time!

Posted by: amber at September 24, 2006 01:41 PM (Clmqj)

2 God damned thieves!!! Can't keep the bad element out no matter how hard I try.

Posted by: statia at September 24, 2006 03:20 PM (KcrOI)

3 Lovely description of a fabulous day. But if I could just point out: "I'm a nothing. I don't deserve to ride a train as sumptuous as this one (much of the time, I don't deserve.)" - nonsense. Did the others deserve it because they happened to be wealthy? If anything, you deserved it MORE than anyone else - your hard work caught the attention of the company CEO, who rewarded you. And you are most definitely NOT a nothing - don't ever say that about yourself.

Posted by: loribo at September 24, 2006 05:48 PM (RYVp+)

4 I am so glad you enjoyed it. I'm even more glad that you chronicled it! Just keep in mind that YOU (yes you) are indeed special enough to deserve this, and the proof is in how much you enjoyed it. It would be a pity if the only people who had such marvelous opportunities were those who were blasé about it.

Posted by: B. Durbin at September 24, 2006 05:52 PM (tie24)

5 Riffraff or no, the fact that you won the right to have this day of luxury proves that you do deserve it. Lovely pics.

Posted by: Donna at September 24, 2006 07:21 PM (Aanzg)

6 You little sneak, you! I probably would have taken them, too. Looks like you two had a fabulous time! :-)

Posted by: caltechgirl at September 24, 2006 11:06 PM (r0kgl)

7 You always do such cool things!

Posted by: SaraJane at September 24, 2006 11:21 PM (UKxjN)

8 Wow! What a trip! Thanks for sharing it with us. I'm so glad you had that opportunity.

Posted by: wRitErsbLock at September 25, 2006 02:17 AM (0Pi1o)

9 "'Cause I've got a golden ticket" comes to mind. and like Charlie, YOU totally deserve IT. congrats.

Posted by: J.m at September 25, 2006 03:12 AM (k3v0Q)

10 Of course you deserved it! Those photos are priceless (of both of you as well as the train itself). How wonderful for you both.

Posted by: kenju at September 25, 2006 05:53 AM (2+7OT)

11 Wow!! My stepdad is a train nut and he'd LOVE to do something like that. Looks like a blast.

Posted by: ~Easy at September 25, 2006 11:38 AM (u8qrx)

12 Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. What an amazing experience.

Posted by: karmajenn at September 25, 2006 12:00 PM (ydjuy)

13 Same sentiment I left on your last post. You get to do some of the COOLEST stuff EVER! Glad you had such a good time. Thanks for letting us all get a look at some of the pix!

Posted by: kimmykins13 at September 25, 2006 02:37 PM (QW8XY)

14 Stealing the crystal? Further proof that you could totally sit by me at the lunch table.

Posted by: amy t. at September 25, 2006 03:02 PM (3dOTd)

15 After the crap your work puts you through, you damn well deserve it. Hell, I'd love a ride, and I'm no more deserving than you (probably less - I'd never last in your job). And I don't know what looked better - the dining or the toilet. Both look like supreme luxuries.

Posted by: diamond dave at September 26, 2006 01:58 AM (CTBtx)

16 cool trip!

Posted by: yeper at September 27, 2006 01:00 PM (umRxj)

17 I popped over here from Blue Ridge Blog and very much enjoyed your post about the OE. It sounds like an absolutely fabulous trip. I love experiences that allow you to really step back in time. What fun. Thanks for sharing.

Posted by: Kathryn at September 27, 2006 03:27 PM (f/QL5)

18 I haven't been by in a long time and I so enjoyed reading about this fabulous day on The Orient Express! It sounds like a dream come true with the history that this train carry's...So happy for you both that you had this wonderful opportunity! Good to see you again, Helen.

Posted by: OldOldLady Of The Hills at September 27, 2006 11:17 PM (Alv50)

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Short side-trip-we have a day out today, and we're very excited about it. We get to Victoria Station this morning at 9am to have a grand adventure, one involving train travel like they haven't seen since the 1920's.

And we get met with champagne.

Any day that starts with champagne is a grand day out.

If you need me today, we'll be on this:

(The dents on the envelope are courtesy of Gorby. He has a real hate-hate relationship with the mailman, and he likes to be on the receiving end of the mail chute in our door, and his receiving end has pointy white teeth on it.)

It's just for the day that we get to ride on it, but we are absolutely thrilled.

Courtesy of an award I won at work, we get to take a day trip on the Orient Express.

It's a Grand Adventure.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 06:20 AM | Comments (13) | Add Comment
Post contains 155 words, total size 1 kb.

1 They still call it the Orient Express! Awesome! You'll take pictures, won't you? I hope you both enjoy hell out of yourselves.

Posted by: ilyka at September 22, 2006 06:07 AM (mQ53p)

2 OOoooooOOOOOOhhhh! Enjoy! LOL at the teethmarks. :-D That Gorby's a fierce one.

Posted by: Lisa at September 22, 2006 06:13 AM (ELUjU)

3 I would say go for Option B, less stress for the same pricee. You do need to keep your sanity in tact especially with the IVF.

Posted by: Melissa at September 22, 2006 07:35 AM (+Vx+B)

4 Have a wonderful time!

Posted by: selzach at September 22, 2006 11:54 AM (Znelj)

5 That is so exciting! I can't wait to hear all about it.

Posted by: donna at September 22, 2006 12:09 PM (YnFG3)

6 Oh how fun! Have a great time! I'm so excited for you. Can't wait to hear about it.

Posted by: wRitErsbLock at September 22, 2006 12:38 PM (0uaKa)

7 Kermit Green with envy - Have a fantastic time!

Posted by: cursingmama at September 22, 2006 01:05 PM (PoQfr)

8 You get to do some of the COOLEST stuff!

Posted by: kimmykins13 at September 22, 2006 02:29 PM (QW8XY)

9 How exciting! Have fun!

Posted by: Lisa at September 22, 2006 03:38 PM (AK7To)

10 How fabulous! Enjoy yourselves!

Posted by: caltechgirl at September 22, 2006 08:06 PM (/vgMZ)

11 Yes to what Ilyka said. Pictures, pictures, pictures. Enjoy.

Posted by: Rob at September 22, 2006 10:13 PM (7JqtC)

12 What a wonderful treat that must be! Tell us all about it - and take pics!

Posted by: kenju at September 22, 2006 11:07 PM (2+7OT)

13 Sounds like a good time to me! Hope you and Angus have an amazing time!

Posted by: Katy at September 23, 2006 12:20 AM (zvIDz)

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OK, so say (hypothetically of course) that you had a job you'd been doing for, oh, 3 years. Your job was great in some ways-high profile, great for the career, you got several awards, and you made a name for yourself after falling from a great height.

Then say you got burnt out.

Too many long hours.

The stress and pressure were endless.

Your bosses, too much to deal with.

Your enthusiasm....gone.

So, say you got a job offer.

Then-surprisingly-another one.

Then-believe it or not-a third.

What would you choose?

Let me lay it out:

Option A-

Promotion within the same company-(a nice big promotion).
High profile.
Very high stress.
Long hours.
New team to work with (most of whom you like a lot).
New bosses to work for (most of whom you like, some of whom you really don't).
A product you're in charge of that you know somewhat.
A lot of politics.
Unclear boundaries.
Lots of management interference.
Much greater responsibility for no pay raise (the company has a freeze on pay raises just now).
Line management responsibility.
Some travel, mostly to Paris.
Good career move.
More weekly travel into London-an impact on not being able to work from home as much, should I manage to ever get knocked up and not lose it this time.

Option B-

Running a project exactly like the project today, only far less rodent-y.
Working with a team you mostly know already (although they are not the team you lead today).
Working for a new boss, but bosses' boss is still the same (unfortunately).
Running a product you don't know at all.
No pay raise, but at the same time, no interviewing process-the job is yours if you want it, the manager is keen to have you.
Little to no stress.
No politics.
Clear boundaries.
I get to run the project on my own.
A lateral move, in the "career move" scheme of things.
The same amount of travel into London you have today and high flexibility of working from home should I manage to ever get knocked up and not lose it this time.
Some travel involved-mostly Europe, a few America/Japan trips in scope.

Option C-

Moving to a whole new company, to take on the work they have that you already know very well. Exciting company, mostly stable, but with some history of letting people go.

Option C is, for me, really a non-starter. Despite the problems I face, I do actually really like the company I work for-their policies for their employees tend to be great (pay rise freeze not withstanding). Plus, the company I work for now has fantastic maternity benefits and again-should the future rounds of IVF actually work, the company I work for is the best place to be a working mom in, I have no doubts about that whatsoever.

So it's Option A and Option B. I want to reject A simply because taking on that responsibility and not getting compensation for it is crazy-I'm already underpaid. This will make it much worse, the gap is not something that can be closed for many years. Option A is exciting, it's sexy, it's a great career move, but the stress is quite high. Option B is ok, it's a lateral career move, but the stress is much lower although I run the risk of never "succeeding" quite like the project I'm on now managed to do. That in itself is maybe not such a bad thing-I learnt that work isn't everything when I lost my job three years ago, that all the hard work you do is not always repaid in protection.

Maybe this is what happens-you get a choice between career and sanity. I've spent my life being this bizarre driven-chick, wanting to bust through glass ceilings and take on the world but now? Not so important anymore. At the same time, I'm still young enough to do something with the CV, if I want, and while I've never wanted to be a CEO, Option A may me work on something I do care about-products oriented to the female market.

What do I want?

So what do you choose? Option A, Option B, or Option C?

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 07:07 AM | Comments (48) | Add Comment
Post contains 718 words, total size 4 kb.

1 If it were me, and future maternity were as important to me as it seems to be to you, Option B would be the clear winner. A lateral move, yes; on the other hand, would Option A risk making you over-qualified if you were to look for a job outside this company? That may sound like a silly question, but I ask because there are some positions like that; my mother had a very hard time transitioning out of public accounting partner into a lower-stress job because the assumption was that someone who'd made partner at her previous firm would want the moon, the stars, the whole galaxy, and so even companies that would have been thrilled to have someone so experienced were too afraid to hire her, thinking she'd grow bored and discontent and not stay. (What they didn't understand were the vast depths of her burn-out and how relieved she'd have been to take a "lesser" position elsewhere, anywhere.) I have no way to know if Option A is a comparable sort of position for you, but if it is, I'd lean towards Option B all the harder.

Posted by: ilyka at September 20, 2006 06:48 AM (mQ53p)

2 B cos it's less stress for the money. If you have to travel into London more for A then it's a non starter. It's no loss of face to step off the hamster wheel for a while, especially if you have other priorities outside work (commonly called "a Life", not all employers get the idea)

Posted by: Caroline M at September 20, 2006 07:39 AM (x3QDi)

3

Little to no stress. [\quote] In my mind it's B all the way, if what you really want is a baby, reducing stress benefits both conception and pregnancy...

Posted by: deeleea at September 20, 2006 08:24 AM (/SmFP)

4 Less stress!! Especially if there is no chance of getting the monetary compensation that goes with increased responsibility.

Posted by: KG at September 20, 2006 09:32 AM (rw/2F)

5 B B Bbbbbbbbbbb

Posted by: Mia at September 20, 2006 10:32 AM (Sr4ps)

6 B. B B B B. No doubts.

Posted by: Gill at September 20, 2006 11:15 AM (TsRom)

7 No question, I'd choose B. Work does not equal life and you have a life waiting for you. Enjoy it! One thing I've noticed in my own life is that while work will still be there when you're done with 'life' things, life tends to not hang around waiting...

Posted by: Wicked at September 20, 2006 11:27 AM (WOOQd)

8 well A brings you to Paris for lovely dinners and me maybe showing you where to get teh best cookies in town. But otherwise it sounds like shit (unless once the freeze is off you will get the $$ and the freeze isnt expected to last 5 years...) option B sounds better... but I live in hell because of a similar but topically different decision, that went so many kinds of wrong I dont know of words to express that. so what do I know? Bises!

Posted by: stinkerbell at September 20, 2006 11:49 AM (ZznPv)

9 B. Less stress is good, even if some of the glory goes with it. But I think you are going to discover things in the future that are much more glorious.

Posted by: Teresa at September 20, 2006 12:19 PM (PZNTf)

10 I'd go with B. Especially if you will not be appropriately compenated for additional stress, such as would be the cause with A. And I think you have been learning (with the help of couch man) that you are not defined any longer by your job, etc. I think it would be better for you health-wise.

Posted by: Teri at September 20, 2006 12:28 PM (K7jOL)

11 I'm a longtime lurker, but, have been reading you for quite a bit now. I'd choose B. Good luck with whatever option you choose!

Posted by: Katy at September 20, 2006 12:39 PM (n4Z5z)

12 A little over a year ago I chose an option B, and it has been the best thing for me in the long run. On top of that, when the wage freeze was over, I got a promotion and TWO raises out of it....

Posted by: jennifer at September 20, 2006 01:02 PM (F8TUc)

13 I also would choose B. The constant stress of Option A just doesn't seem worth it. You aren't going to be compensated for it. And perhaps now is the time to take more time for yourself, rather than subjecting yourself to more attacks and criticism and stress. Best of luck in choosing. And congratulations on being so sought after, you hot mama!

Posted by: donna at September 20, 2006 01:03 PM (wGEbS)

14 Me? I'd choose B, unless A was something I REALLY believed in and was passionate about. I figure I have enough stress at home that I don't need more at work, and underpaid + overworked = a not happy me. For you though, obviously it may be different

Posted by: geeky at September 20, 2006 01:11 PM (ziVl9)

15 B ... for all the reasons everyone else has handed out. Let us know!

Posted by: sue at September 20, 2006 01:39 PM (WbfZD)

16 If I were you and going through the extreme stress of IVF, I would most definitely choose option B. If I were single or even married with no kids in the future, I'd go for A. I think you've dealt with enough stress this year already to take an even more stressful position with no pay raise, but hey, that's just my opinion and we all know what they say about opinions, right?

Posted by: girl at September 20, 2006 02:26 PM (ZIi+3)

17 Dude, you forgot options D: Work at Wienerschnitzel. You can get all the salty dogs you want for free! I think option B sounds good. Life is too short to be super stressed all the time.

Posted by: Sir Henry at September 20, 2006 02:29 PM (6TpYK)

18 B. For sure, B. As sexy and career-tastic as A may be, the stress and non-compensation would freaking kill me. Gorby wants you home as much as possible.

Posted by: lynD at September 20, 2006 02:40 PM (EUyu0)

19 B. Definitely.

Posted by: Lisa at September 20, 2006 03:01 PM (92RzM)

20 B. Remember the physical effects your current job produced? You have a home & lifestyle you love, and want to do IVF. If you want a life, you need to reduce your stress. Choose life over career intensity.

Posted by: loribo at September 20, 2006 03:09 PM (RYVp+)

21 It seems the general consensus from everyone that has commented is "B" and that is what I would urge you to elect as well. Sometimes Less is more.

Posted by: kimmykins13 at September 20, 2006 03:16 PM (QW8XY)

22 B = balance. Very important no matter what the journey reveals.

Posted by: Steff at September 20, 2006 03:33 PM (fIFtd)

23 B - work is not your life only a part of it etc etc and B sounds like the safer 'still have a life' option abs x

Posted by: abs at September 20, 2006 04:11 PM (pejJ8)

24 Option B all the way baby

Posted by: cheryl at September 20, 2006 04:26 PM (WWLXT)

25 Keep your soul, go with B. Life is too short.

Posted by: Kat at September 20, 2006 05:43 PM (4g1jr)

26 Hi baby. I am late to the comment party but I think you know what I did and what I would do. I opted to not have a career. I have had a series of jobs. I could have turned them into a career but I found myself getting more and more into trouble because at one time I was a single mom and I was the only person who was called for the skinned knees and temperatures in class. And you know what? I stressed and stressed because of all of the trouble I was in. And now I realize that I never wanted a career. I wanted to be a Mommy. Because of my decision, I am currently in the position of having to have two part-time jobs -- one "brick and mortar" Monday through Friday and the other an independent contractor positon -- much like I had before. So in my decision to not have a career, I have hamstrung myself in the making money department. Money's a means to an end for me. I work to live, not live to work. Then again, I haven't had the incredible highs you have had -- the sense of accomplishment. It's a damned trade-off and I have struggled with it my whole life. But my kids are more important to me. Always. I know that doesn't help you at all. . .it's just a bunch of rationalization for where I'm at in my life. Heh. Love you long time. . .

Posted by: Margi at September 20, 2006 06:23 PM (KN1Ch)

27 I vote for B. You said it yourself, hon. Sanity. Isn't that what you're fighting for? The thing is, if you choose A and hate it, there's nowhere else to go but out. If you choose B, you still have the opportunity to choose something like A later, since B is a lateral move. You can always move up if the opportunity comes again. I chose option B myself last year, and I've never regretted it!

Posted by: caltechgirl at September 20, 2006 06:36 PM (/vgMZ)

28 Whenever I have had to make a career desicion, my wife will say, I will stand beside you, whatever your decision. Luckily, they have not turned out too bad. Good luck in your choice. Remember that stress is not good for getting preganent!

Posted by: David T. at September 20, 2006 06:59 PM (hkvGr)

29 Have you talked with your therapist about this? Based on your earlier posts, you're a perfectionist who will step in and do someone else's work if it's necessary to finish the project. For your employers, this is a huge advantage. For you and your stress levels, it could be a bad thing and it will follow you from job to job, regardless of whether it's a move up or across. I'd say B, it's your best chance to chill - if you let yourself. Will it flesh out any part of your resume so the lateral move could be good from an experience viewpoint? Good luck with whatever you choose, and congratulations on all the offers!

Posted by: Oda Mae at September 20, 2006 07:58 PM (6c2sn)

30 High stress with no pay raise? Heck NO! Take the one you know you can handle, which will allow you to work at something you like, but not cause undue stress. Life is too short to spend all your time at work or stressing about it.

Posted by: kenju at September 20, 2006 08:10 PM (2+7OT)

31 I had this dilemma myself 1.5 years ago. Ultimately I chose the 'B' option, and have never regretted it for one moment. Once I was out of the stewing high pressure/fast track pot that I had been in, I realized that I was happier. Not only was I happier, but my family and friends were happier. I had a chance to get back the personal contacts that had shriveled when I was so immersed in the corporate race. I can only imaging that if I had chosen the 'A' option back then that I would now still be waking up in the middle of the night thinking about what I had to do at work the next day. Trying to squeeze in a happy relationship with my spouse and contemplating kids would have made me freak the f out. just my 2 cents, best of luck in whatever choice you make.

Posted by: Jen-Again at September 20, 2006 08:26 PM (FARam)

32 I read carefully your choices, and then I read all the responses from everybody. Like most everyone else that commented, I have a choice of my own that I would recommend. But I'm not going to tell you what it is. Why? Because after reading your post it's obvious to me that you've already made your choice. So my answer is this - reread what you posted and choose the option that you already decided on. And don't look back.

Posted by: diamond dave at September 20, 2006 08:50 PM (CTBtx)

33 Option B. Enjoy your life, sounds like you've already got everything out of your career that you want.

Posted by: Hannah at September 20, 2006 09:24 PM (ImQx2)

34 I seem to be in the massive minority as I say go for "C", I would approach them with the package you need; read money, work style and benefits. To me doing a new/bigger job with no pay raise is just plain silly. Either way good luck!

Posted by: Fred at September 21, 2006 12:40 AM (JXMxY)

35 Or option D. Remain where you are but put out feelers you are interested in opportunities and wait for something better to come along. No reason to grab the first set of offers that come across your desk.

Posted by: Michael at September 21, 2006 02:03 AM (C/HOM)

36 I have to say option D. Become a professional writer, work at home, and eat chocolate while putting your genius on paper. Slowly become annonymously famous and independently wealthy.

Posted by: freakangel at September 21, 2006 03:26 AM (/qLV+)

37 If you really want the low(er) stress option then go for B. But do be aware that it is always difficult to judge a job before being in it. A friend who chose her option B had things change on her to become an option A in everyting except prestige (and money). On the other hand, the change did her some good as she was burnt out prior to the move. If you would like A if there is more money then remember that the rules only apply if people in charge want them to (or more to the point, there is always a loophole if people are willing). I would tell the new (potential) boss flat out that you would be interested if they can meet your salary requirements and if not, "thank you for considering me." I have to admit that I have always gone for A (and am about to do so again -and that is why my former boss is about to work for me -and no, that is not an evil laugh...).

Posted by: Nicole B. at September 21, 2006 03:38 AM (mWowe)

38 pretty much a no-brainer. B.

Posted by: Clancy at September 21, 2006 12:42 PM (JxYJc)

39 Option B. Life is too short.

Posted by: K David at September 21, 2006 01:23 PM (pW0NG)

40 At this point in my life? Option B. I've paid my dues and while I don't want to coast, I want stability and less stress.

Posted by: trouble at September 21, 2006 01:51 PM (j2vfb)

41 unless they guarantee you in writing that when the freeze lifts you get a raise RETROACTIVELY, i'd say forget A. but you need to go where you're most happy. so you choose. i don't think we're driven in the same ways, so it's hard for me to know what i'd do.

Posted by: becky at September 21, 2006 06:28 PM (9orlw)

42 Everyone is different. You have to do what is right for you, but at this stage in my life, I'd go with B. I need stability... no stress. I've done the corporate ladder, and did it very well thank you very much, but there is a quality of life issue. I want to enjoy my life... when I die, I want to look back and know I truly loved as much as I could have. The stress of a 'job' encroaches on that too much for me. I look at my job now as a fair exchange. They pay me for my brain. I give them 150% when I'm there. It enables me to live my life the way I want to live it. That's it. I've prostituted my brain and I'm very comfortable with that. They get no extra time and I don't want to run the show. I just want a good life.

Posted by: Bou at September 21, 2006 08:23 PM (iHxT3)

43 You've already made your choice. So, I support you in that. Helen, as long as you are happy, that is all that matters. Happy. Not stressed, not pushed to the max, not too thinly spread. Your goal, at this point in your life, is whatever option fuels your soul and brings you balance.

Posted by: Dana at September 22, 2006 02:14 AM (Zp/ni)

44 Well it looks like Iam late to the party, as usual, so here goes. Seems to me like you are standing at the 'cross roads' one road leads toward ceo-ville the other...comfy-ville? whichever you choose.. do not sell your soul to the devil, like Robert Johnson did. hope this helps.

Posted by: j.m at September 22, 2006 03:26 AM (k3v0Q)

45 If it were me, I'd choose Option B. I'd try as much as possible to avoid the stress, especially since it doesn't come with more money.

Posted by: amber at September 22, 2006 04:53 PM (5PLeA)

46 As everyone else has said already, you've made your decision. And what it shows is that you always choose where your priorities are. The Helen of five years ago might have jumped at one option, but the Helen of now has different priorities. Personally, I think the current Helen's getting to a very good spot, and I think her decision will turn out to be the right one for her.

Posted by: B. Durbin at September 23, 2006 02:40 AM (tie24)

47 I'd say that so long as you are comfortable living on what you make now I'd DEFINATELY go with B..There is always the chance for a promotion without more stress.. and given how much stress has bothered you Id say avoiding it is a very wise move

Posted by: LarryConley at September 23, 2006 01:21 PM (kbWzj)

48 Currently I would have to take option B. I have been in the ranks of upper management, same company for almost 20 years, and took several steps down the totem pole to relieve stress and hours, and kind of like just doing my own thing.

Posted by: Richard at September 23, 2006 10:23 PM (gvl4P)

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As we do every year, this year Angus and I went to Proms in the Park, which is held in Hyde Park. We've been three years running now and we love Proms in the Park. It's a massive outdoor concert which is held alongside similar concerts in Cardiff, Glasgow, and Manchester, until at the end of the evening we link up with the Royal Albert Hall and party like we're sipping tea with the corgis.

Proms in the Park is always a bit of a mix for me-the music is great. The food we bring is great. We get drunk and sing at the top of our lungs, as everyone in the park does. There's much flag waving, because that's what you do when you're there. We even bring our ridiculous 48-starred flag (someday we'll get one with 50, and we'll pretend that we had Alaska and Hawaii all along).

This year we went with my friend Jim, who happened to be in town. He's the one who's wedding we're going to in November, and he's one of my closest friends. He was at Proms in the Park with us in 2004, too, so he knew the drill.

That's him. Nice looking guy, isn't he?

We went over the top on food for the day-we had risotto, mini quiches, sausage rolls, crudite, and I went to the shop that morning to get chicken wings.

It made me feel like I was on drugs.

Me at the Rotisserie counter: Do you have chicken wings?

Her working at the Rotisserie counter: But it's Saturday!

I blinked. What, chickens are allowed to fly on Saturday? The Bible has Saturdays as a holy chicken wing-free day? Am I being punk'd?

I went home with quartered chicken instead.

So we lug great quantities of food with us and settle on the grass. We brought two good friends with us and an incident occurred that I'd like to discuss later, but in general it was a good time had by all. It was, after all, a fabulous, warm sunny day and I got to wear my favorite sunglasses (Angus hates them).

There was a cover band for Madness (you know, of Our House fame? Our House, in the Middle of the Street? You know that one, right?)

We relaxed more than I thought we could. It felt ok to be outside in the sun, the mood high, the feelings ok. They'd given out free ponchos and rain hats, expecting Proms in the Park to be like last years. Lucky for us, it turned out well, but that didn't stop some of us from trying on the free rain hats.

There was this ridiculous creature named Chico from some show I'd never heard of called X Factor. Our hatred for Chico was immense. Chico took the stage, describing himself as Chicolicious, welcome to Chico Time. Chico offended our ears and the English modesty of the mases-in fact, Chico got booed.

Through it all, despite not enjoying Chicolicious, we enjoyed our picnic blanket and our food.

There was a gorgeous soprano named Angela Gheorghiu that made us all stop what we were doing and wonder if perhaps fairies really did prance through the forest. There was a hot trumpeter named Alison Balsom that had all the men imagining her doing naughty things to them (men, blowing a trumpet is a skill. Blowing you off is what we do if we need you to cut the grass.) There were two tenors that made the hairs on the back of our necks stand up.

We were all having a great time.

Then the finale came.

It was dark, and the stage was lit up with light.

We were well and truly tanked by then, drinking our boxed wine (no glass allowed in the park. Love you! And I thought of you every time I poured another glass from the carton, and when I did, I snapped my bra strap from beneath my tank top as an homage to your fabulousness!) Everyone around us was pissed, too. We were all singing and laughing and talking-all 40,000 of us taking up a park in central London, and when the finale came on, we forgot all our good taste and common sense and pissed it all away with the chardonnay we'd brought.

The finale had us all on our feet, singing and dancing.

The finale is not someone I would ever, ever listen to, but on a warm London evening with a lot of wine in my system? It had to be done.

We sang at the top of our lungs with Lionel Ritchie (oh my God, I can't believe I just typed those words).

SHUT UP-you'd totally do it too, if you were there.

And if you were drunk.

And if every other single person around you was singing at the top of their lungs, too.

We sang along with his old hits-Dancing on the Ceiling, Hello, and All Night Long. He then sang two of his new albums and pimped his daughter Nicole's new album, and the audience in general was more or less: Fuck your new stuff, if you're going to do that, bring Chico Time back!

So it's true. We got drunk and sang to Lionel Ritchie. We then of course sang the standards-Land of Hope and Glory, Rule Brittania, Jerusalem, Danny Boy, All Through the Night, and the finale, the National Anthem (which Jim and I sang as My Country Tis of Thee really, really quietly, as it's the same tune and there's only so much we can do in those situations without feeling like Benedict.)

We'd felt a bit strange about it at first-we were still raw, and I wasn't very party-mood like, but in the end we came round.

Somehow, we just do.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 06:40 AM | Comments (11) | Add Comment
Post contains 978 words, total size 6 kb.

1 YES!! Sounds like a good time was had by all. And you're right, I'd have sung along to Lionel Ritchie too. Did he do anything from his days with the Commodores?

Posted by: ~Easy at September 19, 2006 11:37 AM (u8qrx)

2 Now that sounds like a fantastic time. And I would totally have sung along to the old Lionel Ritchie too. I'm not too proud to say so.

Posted by: donna at September 19, 2006 12:39 PM (ORsbE)

3 Awesome pictures! Sounds like a great time and just what you needed.

Posted by: Minawolf at September 19, 2006 12:51 PM (cH5GO)

4 You look so very beautiful....and happy despite every thing. Joy, love and happiness to you.

Posted by: jennifer at September 19, 2006 01:11 PM (F8TUc)

5 What lovely pics ... and a lovely sounding day. Lionel Richie? I like Lionel Richie... hmmm... Showing my age here.

Posted by: sue at September 19, 2006 01:59 PM (WbfZD)

6 NOOOOOOO..BOXED..WIIIIIIIIIIINE [/mommy dearest]

Posted by: statia at September 19, 2006 02:27 PM (NsnoE)

7 Ah, the things we'll do when properly plowed. Here's to you and Jim for singing "My Country Tis Of Thee." Rock on with your American selves! Wow. How white did that just sound?

Posted by: amy t. at September 19, 2006 02:47 PM (3dOTd)

8 I know what you mean about the sunglasses. I have some that make me feel like Jackie O. Until one of my friends picked them up off my car seat and said "Here! Don't forget your Elton John glasses!" Ugh. Glad to see yours are much cuter.

Posted by: Oda Mae at September 19, 2006 06:48 PM (2yWps)

9 You look fabulous, and I love the sunglasses - in fact - I have a pair that are very similar (that ought to turn you off them...LOL). I would sing to Lionel even when I am not drunk.

Posted by: kenju at September 20, 2006 01:59 AM (2+7OT)

10 WHAT?...no Mosh or Circle Pit for Lionel? You should have started one..Promise you will next year. Aight?

Posted by: J.m at September 20, 2006 02:03 AM (k3v0Q)

11 I'd have totally sung to Lionel Ritchie and I don't drink! I know all the words... ;-) I've aged myself there I do believe. And those are great pictures. You truly are a beautiful woman, Helen.

Posted by: Bou at September 21, 2006 08:28 PM (iHxT3)

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Something that has been keeping me going through all of the past month of hell is sobbing in a fetal position while hideously drunk television. Good, old-fashioned, TV. TV-known here as the "telly", which is a term that I can't bring myself to say-has saved me in many ways.

They have an expression here for kids, in which they tell them that too much TV makes your eyes square. If that's the case, then I'm going to go by "Rubik's" from now on, because the TV has become my soulmate. Books I've been avoiding, because they involve thoughts (but I have some major thanks going out to some people soon for them, I promise, as I'm getting back to bookland now.)

Of course, I kept watching Wedding TV, and Extreme Home Makeover was a good one to stick by, but my choices started running out. I went through all my DVD collections-Firefly, Dead Like Me, Wonderfalls, and 24. I watched the sweet film that Caltech Girl sent me (back in the good days of Steve Martin, before he became the creepy guy in Shopgirl).

But then I ran out of options, and was left to think.

Thinking is bad. Very bad.

So I resorted to regular TV.

First I discovered Scrubs, the ridiculous show with manic characters that has got to be the single biggest brain check-out known to mankind. It was perfect. I watched three whole seasons of it in the space of a weekend. I don't remember a single fucking episode but at least I wasn't sobbing, so hey-win/win situation.

I also discovered the English show here called How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?, a show started up by Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber when the would-be star of his West End November launch of The Sound of Music, Scarlett Johansson, dropped out last minute. He then decided he wanted to cast an unknown and held auditions all across the UK. This show was about exactly that-auditioning who would play Maria in his production. Now, in general, I can't stand reality shows. I could give a shit who America's Next Top Model is. I hope the raft sinks on Survivor. They should nail the door shut on the Big Brother house.

But I fucking loved the Maria TV show.

Two shows every Saturday night in which they would destroy a woman's West End dream-this was the one thing I would be guaranteed to watch. I even became a bit like a sports fan, I would scream and swear and cheer at the TV. They had a hideously haughty Romanian chick that I couldn't stand and when she finally got voted off I screamed and danced with Gorby, singing "Ding Dong, The Romanian Bitch Is Gone" (which both doesn't work and sounds horribly anti-Romanian, which I guarantee you I am absolutely not, I just hated her.) The show ended Saturday night, unfortunately, but I loved it while it lasted.

I have started watching a quirky little show that I really love called A Town Called Eureka (which I think is called in the rest of the world Eureka). It's weird, it's different, and for reasons I can't articulate, I like it even more than I like Pop-Tarts.

It doesn't mean everything I watched was a success. I saw the first episode of Out of Practice and nearly hung myself in the garden after it, it was that terrible. Same goes for Hope and Faith, or Faith and Hope, or Jesus Christ What a Fucking Annoying Show, whatever it was called. I learnt that some TV is so unbelievably desperate it would lead one to yearning for old-fashioned radio TV programmes again (The Shadow Knows!)

We watch Life Begins (but only because we like to imitate Alexander Armstrong and walk around going: "MAG-gaaaaaaay.") We watch the new season of Extras (always rely on Ricky Gervais for the uncomfortable). CSIs got watched, including the Miami one, which makes me feel like I need a shower.

Yesterday, Angus was away and I got a blissful and peaceful day to myself, which I spent watching 9 episodes of Gilmore Girls on our SkyPlus (the English TiVo). It was nice but I have to say-at the end of it, I really hated that whiny little Rory so much it was unbelievable. I usually don't mind Rory. I generally think Rory is ok. But after 9 episodes you really hate that Plato-reading bitch, and have thus promised to limit myself and never have a Gilmour Girls marathon again.

And then the worst thing in the world happened.

I was out of TV again.

Even after my dad came, delivering Desperate Housewives, Lost, and more. I was getting confronted by my thoughts, which is never a good thing, it only leads to endless Googling and more chablis bad thoughts.

But then J came through. She sent me Arrested Development, which came just in time. I breathed a sobbing sigh of relief upon sight of it, I've never heard of the show but it sounds just like my kind of thing.

It came in the nick of time.

I was so desperate I was nearly ready to move on to 7th Heaven*, and we all know what kind of nightmare depression that would've led to.

-H.

PS-this may be the last time I talk about the Bad Times for a while. In our house, we're trying to move on now. Thanks to a plan, more DVDs, and a bracelet, we're doing a good job of it. If you've sent me an email, I'm sorry I've been a shit in responding-I'm nearly back to normal most of the time now. Let's see if we can keep that going?

*If I ever reach the stage where I am so depressed I watch 7th Heaven, Touched By an Angel, or Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman, please send intervention immediately.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 10:48 AM | Comments (16) | Add Comment
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Dear Egg and Bacon,

Today you're four years old. Four years old! This is the last year you get to stay home with me (all giggling faces and sticky fingers) as you start school next year, complete with requisite ties and cardigans. The school is just up the road, and was built over 100 years ago. Gorby and I would walk you both to school in the morning and see you when you come home, where you'd chatter and fill the evening with light.

Four years seems so long ago, and yet I remember much of it like it was last month. Your mommy has had a rough month this month, and I've thought of you often. I've learnt a lot about you, too-you had the shortest maybe life and yet you were a big part of me. I wanted you two more than you will ever be able to imagine-just picture how much you think I wanted you and multiply it by ten million, and you're still nowhere near.

So you're not here, but somewhere you're four years old, and I picture you finger painting. I see Christmas lights reflecting in the expanse of your wide open faces. I smell the corner of your necks and imagine chubby knuckles of hands still learning the fine arts of operating. I open yogurt pots for your pudding, I tell you to be careful with Gorby, who loves you two so much he can't stop following you around to make sure you're ok.

Mommy is beginning to move on now, but in the center of her heart in the place she holds things super tightly? That's where you live. That's where you'll always be.

Today you are four. Today your grandpa is 54. Your grandpa was just here visiting with Mommy, and his visit was so important to her. He took her to Westminster Abbey, where we stood before the nave and didn't say anything. He put coins into a box and handed me candles. I lit three of them, closing my eyes and talking to myself:

To my little Egg, who I never knew.

To tiny Bacon, who never got to be here.

And, for the first time, but never the last:

To Dr. Seuss baby, who nearly was.

I miss you guys so much, and I love you dearly.

When I finished I looked over at Grandpa to see that he was lighting a candle, too.

To my little Egg and Bacon-pull up your socks. Would you like an apple? Let's think about what we shall do today. Maybe we should go wash your hands.

I am not religious but in my mind I see you look like angels.

Wherever you are, I hope it's full of laughter and light.

Wherever you are, I hope you see your little sibling and hold on to them, loving them as fiercely as I love all three of you.

Wherever you are, I hope it's wonderful.

Wherever you are, wait there. I will be there someday. I promise you that.

And when I get there, I will never let you go again.

Love,
Mommy

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 06:19 AM | Comments (12) | Add Comment
Post contains 531 words, total size 3 kb.

1 I don't usually like to start out the day crying, but today it is OK.

Posted by: Teresa at September 15, 2006 12:19 PM (PZNTf)

2 They are so lucky to be loved so well.

Posted by: Hannah at September 15, 2006 12:46 PM (ImQx2)

3 **hug**

Posted by: wRitErsbLock at September 15, 2006 12:51 PM (0uaKa)

4 You make my life feel so blessed. Thank you.

Posted by: sue at September 15, 2006 02:07 PM (WbfZD)

5 Oy.. anyone got a box of Kleenex and some Clear Eyes I can borrow?

Posted by: girl at September 15, 2006 02:08 PM (ZIi+3)

6 I don't think anyone has ever written something that has made me want to believe in a better place out there before. You are one beautiful woman, H.

Posted by: amy t. at September 15, 2006 02:37 PM (3dOTd)

7 That was a beautiful tribute to your angels, Helen.

Posted by: Amanda at September 15, 2006 03:41 PM (ay+rD)

8 That was beautiful. Thinking of you.

Posted by: Michele at September 15, 2006 09:35 PM (5VGFA)

9 Soft and tender. My soul is full, thanks to your words.

Posted by: Dana at September 17, 2006 12:43 AM (WXRT4)

10 Just beautiful. And I believe you will see them all someday.

Posted by: kenju at September 17, 2006 03:46 AM (2+7OT)

11 Words are so powerful sometimes. Thinking of you.

Posted by: Donna at September 18, 2006 12:21 AM (Aanzg)

12 Happy Birthday kids.....Momma is gonna watch over you... Helan I think you are one of the most sane people I know... Yes you have problems and issues... you are facing them square on.. Dallas Sabres Hockey stick in hand and a blind ref. You grieve for what could have been.. and hope for what might yet be... and enjoy what you have now... and beat back the stress of life. Keep swinging Larry Ps The Serenity companion is very interesting (even if I don't always agree but the Serenity / Trek crossover piece is a hoot) and the graphic novel looks amazing.

Posted by: LarryConley at September 19, 2006 01:47 AM (xqS37)

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Today has been ok.

Still getting there.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 10:06 AM | Comments (21) | Add Comment
Post contains 18 words, total size 1 kb.

1 goooooorby! glad you're making it one ok day at a time

Posted by: geeky at September 11, 2006 12:51 PM (ziVl9)

2 I clicked on here last night and was confronted with a blank page. For a while, I was afraid you wouldn't come back. It makes me happy to see you here, with Gorby. He's worth a million right now, isn't he? Take heart, Helen.

Posted by: kenju at September 11, 2006 01:18 PM (2+7OT)

3 Helen, I have missed you, I am glad things are slowly getting better, the Gorbster looks wet and happy.

Posted by: cheryl at September 11, 2006 01:29 PM (msF2q)

4 No question, salt water heals or at least accelerates the healing process. I always feel renewed by being near the water.

Posted by: RP at September 11, 2006 01:31 PM (LlPKh)

5 He is, quite possibly, the cutest damn dog I've ever seen. How can one not smile with him in your life?

Posted by: girl at September 11, 2006 01:46 PM (ZIi+3)

6 Finding joy in the little things is the beginning of healing.

Posted by: trouble at September 11, 2006 01:58 PM (j2vfb)

7 Good to "see" you, Helen.

Posted by: Amanda at September 11, 2006 02:19 PM (ay+rD)

8 One day at a time...

Posted by: Drew at September 11, 2006 03:10 PM (DngOs)

9 Kisses babe.

Posted by: amy t. at September 11, 2006 03:41 PM (3dOTd)

10 glad to hear it. hang in there. sunhine and fresh air does wonders.

Posted by: J.m at September 11, 2006 04:20 PM (k3v0Q)

11 Today, you made me smile. Today, I hope you smile.

Posted by: Dana at September 11, 2006 04:59 PM (WXRT4)

12 I'm reminded of the line in Steel Magnolias - uttered by Dolly Parton when Sally Field goes all nuts after Shelby's funeral. . . "I don't know how the rest of you is, but your hair is holding up beautifully." It's so lame, yanno? But you look so glamorous in your dark shades and in the bright sunshine. Gorby cures a lot of ills, too. All my love, M

Posted by: Margi at September 11, 2006 05:00 PM (pxR7W)

13 That sweet puppy is worth his weight in diamonds. And you're looking pretty good too.

Posted by: caltechgirl at September 11, 2006 05:37 PM (/vgMZ)

14 I never have minded what God said... In any case, you'll get there. Or if not there, someplace else nice. :-) *hug*

Posted by: ~Easy at September 11, 2006 07:44 PM (u8qrx)

15 small blessings your dog! the beautiful day! and how beautiful you are (okay maybe not so small blessings?)

Posted by: Zya at September 12, 2006 01:44 AM (zUWsy)

16 Hooray for the Gorby-dog! Nothing can be entirely wrong when such a cute dog is around.

Posted by: B. Durbin at September 12, 2006 02:54 AM (tie24)

17 I've been by here, every day, reading and hoping that your days would begin to get better. (some filter at work won't let me post, tho, so doing it from home.) Wishing you more days filled with good things...

Posted by: Serena at September 12, 2006 03:21 AM (6+5Wv)

18 Hugs. Getting there is good. Keep going! It's ok if you don't go fast. We'll wait.

Posted by: Dani at September 12, 2006 06:29 AM (jVN7+)

19 i was just thinking about what a great comfort for you Gorby must be in this time of grieving. i know that, for me, sometimes the dog is the best one to offer comfort. love to you and Angus (and Gorby, of course!).

Posted by: stellalafayette at September 12, 2006 02:11 PM (kN29t)

20 Gorby *is* the cutest puppy ever. Not that you didn't already know....

Posted by: Richmond at September 12, 2006 11:17 PM (e8QFP)

21 I am so glad you are speaking at all. I wish you sunshine and peace and sweet dreams and heart-healing.

Posted by: That Girl at September 14, 2006 04:03 PM (oT4a3)

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I haven't been very productive, every little thing seems exhausting. There is much to do as well-work continues to hop and we have guests staying with us this weekend and next week so there is much to do along the lines of "good lord, we have to finally get rid of that spider web at the top of the stairs and hide all of our empty wine bottles and where the hell do I stash all the IVF drugs?" in order to get ready. Luckily, on the advice of my couch man, I told two of my closest project managers and friends, and they are helping cover for me until I get my feet back under me, which is ever so slowly beginning to happen now.

My usual sense of awareness has gone as well-I don't notice the details of anything, there hasn't been any texture to anything I think or feel or come across. Everything feels the same, a matte lining draped over every surface. I do remember a few small things-a drop of blood on the skirting board in the gynae ER. The feel of my hand on my stomach as I fell asleep each night, the last night with false hope and lost dreams. Gorby's nose on the side of my neck as he tries to figure out why, day after day, I'm on the couch.

And then there was blankness. I think I drifted in and out of each day, living in a bubble where no one could get in, nothing reached me. I watched a lot of Wedding TV, as Wedding TV was the one area that I was sure to not be confronted with babies and pregnant women. Even my favorite shows were to be avoided-"Grey's Anatomy" has picked up again here (we're behind the States with it) and last week's episode had two heavily pregnant women go into labor. I had to fast forward through those scenes, I just couldn't stick it out. "Lost" has a pregnant Sun. "Scrubs" has Jordan knocked up. I even tried "The 40 Year Old Virgin" as mindless TV until I came across the scene of a sonogram of a giggling baby broadcast throughout a TV shop, which necessitated a hasty switch-off of the TV. It's all too complicated to face, any show can be a minefield, so I'll stick to the Wedding Channel for a while.

I always thought that 5 stages of grief business was a bunch of bullshit, I thought grief is something less tangible, something that couldn't possibly be held within the confines of a simple diagnostic explanation. What is grief? Loss? Pain? Mourning? Recovery? All I know is grief is bad, a specter that stands against the wall and thumps you in the stomach again and again and again.

But lo and behold, for the first time in my life, this 5 stages nonsense has applied. I had the denial, the anger, the bargaining, and the deep depression. I whirled through those stages like a hurricane, dredging and churning and losing every single fucking round to Grief. I fought and I screamed and I ached more than I ever knew I could do, and then I realized my tornado didn't make a dent and I acceded that Grief was the better man. I made him a cup of coffee and he sat next to me, watching endless episodes of Wedding TV, and when one of us adjusted ourselves on the couch the other one made sure that the division of blanket sharing was still equal.

And then yesterday something happened. While watching "Extreme Makeover-Home Edition", Grief and I had a conversation over Ty Fucking Pennington.

Grief: Budge up, your legs are taking up too much space.
Me: I'm feeling cramped. I don't know if there's room enough on the couch for us both.
Grief: I'm only here because you won't let me go.
Me: If I let you go, it'll mean I've moved on. I can't do that.
Grief: Helen, babe-moving on isn't the same thing as forgetting.
Me: I KNOW THAT. I can't forget, I'll never forget. Forgetting is not an option.
Grief: Then what is the issue?
Me: I don't know, ok? I don't know. I don't think it's about how long I've had you here-I don't think grieving is a time-related activity, that in order to show I've really meant it I have to feel this way for x amount of days. Sometimes I feel up only to feel down ten seconds later. I just...I don't know. I just don't know how to move on.
Grief: It's not about choosing how to move on. It's just life, and you find ways to keep living.

I don't know how to respond to this. And then I do.

Me: I think of grieving as a cello case. I've got this cello case, and I'm carrying it around. When the cello case first turns up, I don't know how to carry it, I can't keep it from hitting those around me. But after time, I get the hang of it. I carry the case with ease and people don't even realize it, it's a smooth transition.
Grief: And where are you with the cello case now?
Me: It's in the corner, I'm not walking anywhere with it, I'm avoiding the fucking thing.
Grief: Do you really think that's the case? Aren't you already moving on, planning holidays, next treatment cycles? Aren't you thinking about what to do next?

This makes me pause.

Me: Yes, I am.
Grief: Then what, Helen? What?
Me: I hate telling you this, I really do. I feel so selfish and I strive so hard to never be selfish-my mother used to scream at me that I was selfish when I was a little girl, and to this day I can't bear the term. But I feel so selfish when I tell you that part of my greatest fear is that this was it-this brief pregnancy, what if it's all I ever know? What if it never happens again, and this was my one chance? How can I bear it, how can I let it go, this short time that I knew what it was like to be a mother? If I let it go and I never know it again, the time, it would've been too short. It wasn't enough.

Grief reaches out across the blanket and holds my hand. We sit there quietly.

Grief: I am not the future, I can't tell you if it will ever work.
Me: Gee, thanks.
Grief: I know. I'm unpopular. But I can tell you this-you'll never forget this time. Never. Someday, you will even treasure it. But you can only do that once you move on.
Me: If I'm ready to move on, how will the baby know that I miss it? That I wish the pregnancy worked? That I will never let go in my heart?
Grief: It just knows, Helen. It just knows. You don't have to feel guilty for moving on-it doesn't mean you've forgotten, it doesn't mean you don't care. It's just life. Life has to happen.

I look up at Ty Fucking Pennington and start to cry as I realize: It is ok. I am clear on what happened now. I miscarried and it's all over now. The bleeding has, after 11 days, finally gone. My body is nearly back to normal now, my body has recovered. And my heart? I look around the vast hallways of my file cabinets of emotions and realize that it's beginning to recover too. It's true I lost what I wanted most in life. It doesn't feel like it will ever be ok that this has happened, but I accept that it has happened, and I accept that what happened wasn't my fault and can't be changed.

It's ok.

I keep crying but somehow feel lighter. I stretch out on the couch, which now holds only me. Grief has left and he thoughtfully turned off the TV on his way out. I tell Angus that I have accepted what's happened, that while it's still not ok, will never be ok, it's time to go on. He joins me on the couch and we fall into each other, something we haven't done for weeks as the miscarriage threatened and then as the aftershocks and depression and bleeding came. We are so intense our lips are bruised afterwards but that too was what we needed.

I still prefer Wedding TV, but over time I am hopeful it will get better.

I am still quiet and still don't want to talk to most people (my friend, I missed you terribly and I'm getting there and thank you so much for understanding), but at least I am beginning to see colors and depths again.

I await my bracelet in the mail any day now, and when I get it I will never take it off.

We will keep trying on our IVF journey, for as long as we are willing.

And I will always, always remember the brief little life I held, the one I called Dr. Seuss Baby, and I will love it forever and treasure the short time we had.

But for now life beckons and I have to try to do it, mostly because what other choice is there, but also because Grief takes up too much space on the couch.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 03:41 PM | Comments (19) | Add Comment
Post contains 1582 words, total size 8 kb.

1 Helen, My heart aches for you, for more reasons than I'll share. I've been thinking happy thoughts in your general direction, since I'm not the praying sort. Thank you for sharing with your readers what you're going through. You're helping others who have their own aches.

Posted by: wRitErsbLock at September 06, 2006 05:04 PM (QP6Jm)

2 I needed this entry today. Thank you.

Posted by: Ms. Pants at September 06, 2006 05:07 PM (GefuU)

3 Oh Helen...I'm on the verge of tears. Of course you will never forget, and Dr. Seuss baby will undoubtedly watch over any other little one you may have. Many hugs to you and Angus.

Posted by: Amanda at September 06, 2006 05:17 PM (ay+rD)

4 Hey there Helen, I've been a lurker for a while and this brings me to tears All my thoughts are with you! Z.

Posted by: zya at September 06, 2006 05:41 PM (GOFVL)

5 I will never be able to say anything or do anything to help you in this sad time -- I wanted you to know that I love you and I weep when reading here and there -- but I'm also so very hopeful, too. I know my mere presence may hurt (and I don't want that at all), but I just want you to know I love you so very much. . . All my love, M

Posted by: Margi at September 06, 2006 06:16 PM (gtpvj)

6 Hang in there, lovely Helen. I am thinking of you often.

Posted by: Kim at September 06, 2006 06:37 PM (GDkIH)

7 And you know I'm good for a laugh about things sticking to the wall, Pony Boy.

Posted by: statia at September 06, 2006 06:47 PM (NsnoE)

8 You have helped someone else today. I know you didn't intend that, but it's the way it works sometimes. Thank you.

Posted by: sue at September 06, 2006 07:31 PM (WbfZD)

9 I figured that given some time you'd find the strength to move on. As often as you tell us you feel weak and helpless, your blogging suggests totally otherwise. That you don't give yourself enough credit for being a lot stronger than you think, stronger than many of us out here, to deal with the harsh realities of life. Welcome back, Helen.

Posted by: diamond dave at September 06, 2006 08:51 PM (0pP6D)

10 I've been holding you close to my heart, praying for you every day, thinking of you time and time again. I will continue to do so, simply because I love you and care for you. You are amazingly strong, Helen. I have always admired you so deeply. Although I have never told you, the life you lead...the life we see, helps me to become a better person. I can't really explain that any more, but know that everyday, you make a difference.

Posted by: Dana at September 06, 2006 09:24 PM (WXRT4)

11 Helen, this post has me speechless (which has only happened maybe 1-2 times in all my years). I am crying; your wisdom and your ability to voice so clearly what you are feeling are inspiring. How can I feel love for someone I've never met, never spoken with, barely seen photos of? But I do feel it, Helen, and I hope you don't think me odd to say it.

Posted by: kenju at September 06, 2006 10:29 PM (2+7OT)

12 Thanks for sharing, Helen. You are in my thoughts.

Posted by: sarajane at September 07, 2006 12:28 PM (t5Xsa)

13 Helen, this was beautiful. It is sometimes so hard for me to remember that you are indeed a real person. I know you have joked about that before, but sitting here half a world away, it would be simple to forget about what I read when I shut the computer down. That is not what happens with you though. I have been away the past few days, and you (understandably) have not been posting, and I need to remind myself that your life is still continuing. Just because the monitor on my desk stays off or the page on your blog doesn't refresh does not mean that your life, and all that goes with it, isn't going along one day at a time. It would be the easy way out for me to just read what you write, and then file it away and not think of what you must be feeling or dealing with just because you have not been posting it. That is not the case here. You have been on my mind constantly. Like kenju wrote, I too feel a bond with you even though I don't even know your real name. It doesn't matter-the feelings are real and genuine. When you write like you did today, I can almost taste your hurt, your sadness, and your grief. I understand the fear of moving on-how you want so badly to go forward but at the same time feel like you are betraying the one you have lost. We all deal in different ways, and it makes my heart happy that you have Angus by your side, and people you can talk to you if you feel like sharing. The bracelet is such a wonderful idea. A beautiful reminder of a very important, precious little soul. Of course you will never forget-and I don't think I will either. Thank you.

Posted by: Teresa at September 07, 2006 02:07 PM (PZNTf)

14 Your ability to go through everything you've gone through and still manage to put everything into perspective completely amazes me. I want to be you when I grow up, Helen. xoxo

Posted by: girl at September 07, 2006 09:45 PM (ZIi+3)

15 IÂ’ve only cried three times in my life (not counting kid falling off bike stuff). Once when I was twelve and my best friend died. Once when my uncle died. And once when we lost our unborn daughter.

Posted by: nobody you know at September 08, 2006 03:30 PM (umRxj)

16 Helen, This is beautifully written. You must submit this piece to a magazine for publication. It is powerful. May your journey be filled with love and joy. Best wishes to you and Angus.

Posted by: Evelyn at September 09, 2006 01:39 AM (GIL7z)

17 Grief is a sneaky bastard. Just when you think he's left the couch he will hop back on and surprise you. But once you've got him to leave once, you can do it again. It's the way the world works. Thinking of you.

Posted by: Donna at September 09, 2006 02:39 AM (Aanzg)

18 Have you received your bracelet yet? If you don't think it's too personal, would you mind sharing a picture of it? Good luck...

Posted by: Hannah at September 11, 2006 07:58 AM (5w+E2)

19 You are pretty damn special Helen. Your ability to express such raw emotion in your writing continues to astound me. Sending love.

Posted by: Alice at September 13, 2006 10:33 PM (7KYqS)

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When I was 6 years old I heard the term "lost the baby" for the first time. The Grown-Ups were talking in hushed tones that the Strodabacks-our neighbors, she of the big smile-had been pregnant, and then she lost the baby.

My first thought was: How careless of her.

My second was: Maybe it's just in her shoulder. She only thinks she lost it, she just hasn't looked hard enough for it. She'll realize where it went in a few months, when her shoulder gets enormous. Then it'll be ok.

The Strodabacks went on to have two children, one of them a Down's baby.

I don't think anyone corrected me about my theories of losing a baby, it's just something I cottoned on to what losing a baby really meant. 26 years later, I know what losing a baby really means.

I really do.

It's not in my shoulder. It's not because I've been careless. Chances are there was something genetically wrong with the child, and my body took care of the housekeeping itself. Surprisingly, even though I lost Egg and Bacon years ago, this has been harder.

In fact, it has been the single hardest thing I have ever gone through in my life so far, ever.

I haven't been able to sleep without the aid of little blue pills. I have been drinking. A lot. I haven't been eating. The idea of going outside makes me tired, yet I've had to do it.

Yesterday I went to my therapist. It was a rainy Saturday, and Fall has come-sycamore leaves fell to the ground and I pulled my sweater against the chill. There in his Autumn-darkened office I cried like a child. Remarkably, he cried too. I let it all out to the only person besides Angus that I can talk about it with. We went through every detail-from the blood clot the size of my palm that fell out of me, to the afternoon when I curled up on Angus' lap crying that I am simply not strong enough to handle this.

I'm not strong enough to handle this, this is just life, and there is no choice but to keep going.

In my own ways, I am making my way forward. We will try again but unlike the average couple that can try again as soon as the last of the blood dries up, our attempts involve months of planning, endless injections, and surgery. Our babies come to us via IVF, something that makes it all so much more expensive, financially, physically, and time-wise. As a couple, this failure is that much more acute-we had beaten the odds and gotten pregnant on what is called an FET, or frozen embryo transfer. The odds of pregnancy on an FET in England are 16%. We beat those 16% odds, only to trip and fall on another statistic-there was an 80% chance this pregnancy wouldn't miscarry, and that's the hurdle we failed to leap.

It is also what makes it feel one million times more unfair, but the single most important thing I have learnt is that babies don't grace your life on the basis of fair.

To know more of what it feels like to be someone going through IVF, and the best way to know how to handle someone going through infertility, please watch this.

Be careful-it makes me cry every time.

I am handling things in my own way. I have good moments and bad moments. The day of the loss it was so important to me to do something in remembrance, and I really can't explain why it was so urgent, it just was. I have ordered a bracelet that I will never take off once it arrives-it's a silver bracelet with a tiny angel, an angel whose heart is a little diamond. The diamond is the birthstone of April.

April-my birthday. Angus' birthday. The would-be birthday of the little one we lost.

I also appeal to my Asian background and plan on honoring Jizo. Jizo is a Buddhist god who serves as a guardian to limit your time in hell. Jizo is also a protector of the unborn, a protector of expectant mothers but, more than that, he cares for the miscarried and aborted, ferreting them into his voluminous sleeves when the demons creep up the sides of the riverbank. He looks like a happy God, and I entrust the twinkling soul of our child to him.

It's as I told my therapist-I don't need something to remind me of my loss, I will have that for the rest of my life.

I need our embryo-who we saw on an ultrasound monitor a little over a week ago looking healthy and fine-to know that I honor and remember it.

After my session I meet Angus in Foyle's, the greatest bookstore in the world. I find a copy of this book and I read it from cover to cover. Somehow it helped, a salve to an open wound.

I wish I could be back where I was a week and a half ago, a healthy pregnancy and a brilliant outlook.

Instead, I still cry a lot. It still hasn't sunk in and maybe never will. I can't visit the websites of people I know and love. I can't watch anything involving babies or children. We were invited to a barbecue today with a couple we know. It would've been with their little girl, who was conceived via IVF and born when Egg and Bacon would've been, and so we gave our regrets.

I just couldn't do it.

But I am getting there. Believe it or not I am surprisingly optimistic about our next cycles. I may have a hole in the middle of my heart but I do see that there's a future.

I can't talk about what happened but my therapist says I need to let others know. Angus is going to tell our friends what happened, and I told my father and my good friend Jim about it, too. Jim will be here this coming weekend and he's promised that I don't have to talk about it, but how about a drink? My father, I hope, respects my wishes that I don't want to talk about it, as my dad? He's also going to be here in a week, and I haven't seen him since I lost my job at the end of 2003.

You might be tired about me talking about this subject, but it's something I am trying to work through. My blog is the training ground for my thoughts. I need this space, and soon I will need to stop talking about this topic out loud.

I have passed through the grief stages of disbelief (maybe it didn't really miscarry) and anger (I fucking hate everything and everyone). I've done the bargaining with god part. I'm currently still in the sorrow part. My therapist says I'll be up and down for a while, but something that will help me is when my next period finally comes, which after miscarrying can be some time away. I agreed with him, and I have something else to look forward to.

I'm trying.

God knows, I'm trying.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 04:47 PM | Comments (37) | Add Comment
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