Carpe-freakin'-Diem

August 2, 2009

It hit me yesterday that it's August. And August has been heavy on my mind ever since, this extra weight inside my head, like lead.

At 2:15 a.m. this morning I got a phone call. It was Jeremy. He had just finished playing at the Red Room with the Low Ones and couldn't start the truck. He thought the battery had died. "No problem sweetie, I'm on my way." I threw on some clothes, searched the usual suspect places for jumper cables which I could not find (because we don't own them - what?!), grabbed baking soda and some water at Jeremy's instruction and headed out. I never thought I'd thank God for Walmart, but at 2:30 in the morning I was doing so. I ran in and bought some jumper cables and got downtown all within about 25 minutes. It was the battery and all is well now.

This morning we went out to run some more errands, one of which was to buy a new truck battery. I had Jeremy's Adam Again CD in the player. A line had caught my attention the day before as he had it playing. But different lines were catching my attention now: "What can you say, the impossible happens? What can you sell for? What can you live without?" Oh and the cello in the song. The cello will forever be an instrument that strikes the very core of my being when I hear it. It's August. The tears started pouring.

I put my face in my hands and let go. "I'm just so sad Jeremy. It's August." I think it took him a moment to follow my train of thought, after all this had just come out nowhere. We were just running errands for goodness sakes. "We should be getting ready for her first birthday," more sobs. "I would make the invitations myself. And the party favors, I would make the party favors myself too. And I'd take pictures of her eating her first birthday cake. I don't want to be sad about this. I want to be over her. Why can't I be over Harper?"

"Oh Abby, we won't ever be over her. And there's more than sadness there too. It's not just sadness," he reminded me. And it's not. But today it is. And I cried some more. August 17th. That was my due date.

It's not out of my system. I'm starting to feel a little troubled about that too. Should it be? Should I be better than I am now? I have what they call complicated grief. There were so many losses, one on top of the next, piling up like bad garbage. Wish I could just toss it all into the can and be done with it.

Getting up in the middle of the night to help Jeremy brought up more stuff too. This time I was on the other end, and I was so glad. I was so happy to be able to go help him when he needed me. But we talked today about the other phone calls in the middle of the night. There was one night in particular that I was scared and alone in the hospital. I told myself I was having a panic attack, I just needed to ride it out, but I couldn't. I still had Harper with me then. They were pumping me full of all kinds of drugs, but if there were ones I could avoid taking, I still did because of her. Seems so silly to me now. They offered me Ativan, but I said no at first. I was so scared. I thought I was going to die. I couldn't lay down. I couldn't breath when I laid down. I was going to jump out of my skin.

"What can I do to help you?" the sweet nurse asked as she sat next to me, rubbing my back. I was sobbing.

"I need my husband, but I don't want to call him. He needs his rest." I could just ride it out. I could. Surely I would get so tired that I would have to fall asleep. But when the nurse left my room after sitting with me for nearly an hour, I couldn't stand it. I was so scared. Finally I agreed to take the Ativan. But the Ativan didn't kick in right away, so I called Jeremy. I woke him from a dead sleep. The nights that he went home to sleep, he slept with the phone on the pillow, which explains that why to this day when I get up to go to the bathroom in the night he jumps up saying, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

He came to be with me that night. And bless his heart, by the time he got there the medication had kicked in and I was loopy and groggy and hardly knew he was there. He told me there were other times the nurses called him in the night too. I didn't know that. I didn't know.

As I sit here writing this, I want to go back to that time. It was a living hell and I'm crazy for saying it, I know, but I do. I want to go back to that time because then I could feel Harper moving inside of me. She was still alive.

Boy, do I have issues? There's something in me lately that feels like I need to keep talking about this. I need to keep telling people what happened. I wonder if it's time to join a support group? I need to purge. There's still more in there. Is this normal? Don't get the wrong idea either okay? Because when I first started blogging, these thoughts and feelings were shackled to me everywhere I went. They aren't any more. I fly free much of the time. But this is my way of purging. So you get this distorted view of who I am. Oh Abby, it is what it is, let go.

Okay. So I need to get myself out of this funk. I can do this. I can. I'm going to start by changing the music I'm listening to as I write this. Certain music just allows me to wallow in the gunk. So let's listen to Dig: "The earth is hard, the treasure fine." "There was a time I might have surrendered, but not now." And yes, the words are better, but how about changing the whole mood Abby? Yes. That's what I need.

So here's my little pep talk to get me out of the funk:
This is the beauty of life Abby. This is it. The pain, the heartache, all of it. It has given your life so much abundance. And you know you can feel that there's something amazing right around the corner. Every day you wake up ready for it. It's going to happen. And you are strong! You are strong and can endure! Look at the love around you. What more could you ask for? Nothing. There is nothing more to this life than love. That's it! And you've got it! You are a blessed and lucky woman. Don't ever believe otherwise.

And colon-schmolin! Who needs a colon anyway? You don't! Look at you! You're running, you're doing yoga, (you're eating granola) - you are living the life you want to live. What a gift?! You are alive for crying out loud! ALIVE! Carpe-freakin'-Diem! Okay?!