Saturday, July 16, 2005

Not much to say

There are days when I just don't have much to say, yet I feel compelled to blog something. Why is that? I think it's therapeutic for me to speak my helps me deal with whatever I'm feeling at any given moment. So I feel like if I don't say SOMETHING, then I'm not making any progress in learning to cope with my new reality.

Did I tell you that I called a Maternal Fetal specialist to get her medical opinion on what went wrong and where we might adjust things if we decide to have another baby? I made the mistake of telling the nurse that my schedule was flexible. She said she'd make me an appointment and call me back. That was at 3pm phone call back yet. (sigh) I'm normally a slightly impatient person (no smart comments from those who would qualify me as more than "slightly impatient"). Add to that my sudden control issues, and you've got one irritated woman right about now.

Speaking of which, I've REALLY got to let go of my need to control things. I found myself yelling at my husband this morning because he didn't put his shoes neatly in a row near the doorway. I'm SUCH a joy to live with these days, I'm surprised he didn't bean me with one of the offending shoes. And of course, it's so painfully obvious why I feel I need to control things, even Steve figured it out. Now, those of you who know Steve know he's not normally a really psychologically in-tune I must be wearing a sign on my forehead for him to have noticed it too.

I have also been having a strange feeling lately. The memory box that I so painfully put together for Alex currently sits in our living room per my request. I want to hide it away in a closet. I don't want to look at it. What's that about?


Jill said...

My memory box sits beside my bed. Pride of place. Slowly it has become a platform for my mobile phone to charge, my thermometre to sit plus a hanky when I have a runny nose.

It's still there but I have become desensitized to it. Like everything I need of Thomas is actually in my head and heart, not the box. The box just doesn't touch on what I can conjure up with a few quiet moments of peace and quiet. He's in my heart, not the box and as such the box is less important now I've learned to carry him with me despite the fact he left my body. Make sense? That's just my experience with the box:)

lauralu said...

sometimes i wanted to put hans's box on the coffee table or take it out of town with me, and sometimes i wanted to hid it behind the books next to it on the shelf. now - his box is just there. nothing is wrong with you.

and yes, it is important to write daily, even when you don't have anything to say (although clearly you did have something to say), because when you're in the habit of writing every day it makes it easier to write when you really need to do it but are struggling with it.

gabesmama said...

Hi Catherine,

I hope you don't mind but I updated my blog with your blog. We went to see Betsy on Friday, but 2 other separate people/couples are also considering her so who knows. Plus I feel pretty nuts so I think that this foster mom must think what a nut. But Jeff told me I was quiet. Anyway!!! At least I got the chance to play with a sweet dog.