first 4 months.

Its been well over a year since Ive posted, life took over... I lost my job, I got denied unemployment, I got engaged... and I got PREGNANT! Loads of happiness in sued, until... hyperemesis set in for 3 days, i vomited every hour on the hour, had 4 hours of sleep, and became severely dehydrated, if I drank one drop of water, it came back up by the 4th day my dad brought me to the ER, the fiance was about an hour away, and I was to the point of not being able to move, so Super Daddy to the rescue. I get hooked up to IV's, with fluids and anti nausea meds, of course the nausea meds, have a rare side effect of making a person extremely anxious, which of course I was one of the few who get to experience this with these meds, I was ROCKING on the bed, standing up, sitting down, tapping, MOANING! having a total freak fest, I looked like I was autistic, with a side of schizophrenia, with a secret identity as a vampire since I was white as ghost, from getting up so much my IV got backed up with blood, so they had to force me to sit down so you know I didn't like bleed out or anything.

After about 45 minutes of thinking I am going to end up in the physc ward, I am finally able to relax, I lay down, got my trusty bucket next to me and I start to drift off to sleep, normally I cant sleep any where other people can possibly see me, I have this whole "OMG THEY ARE WATCHING ME" paranoia type thing going on, but after literally no sleep, some severely, intense vomiting for 3 days nothing was going to stop me from a siesta, that is until the toddler with the puffy eyes, came in screaming her bloody freakin head off! I wanted to cry. Nicely hydrated, no sign of vomiting, they unhook me, give me some juice, watch me or an hour, no sign of getting sick, they send me on my merry way! Thinking I am free for at least a night, and going to be able to curl up in my bed... I happily skip into my house....get upstairs, curl up in bed, not in bed 5 mins, and i sit up, grab my puke pot, and am throwing up the rest of the night... FAIL!

Feeling like this is the week I was going to die, I call my mother and and she tells me "come here for a few days, and I will take care of you" YAY! because who doesn't want mommy waiting on them hand and foot when your not feeling well? I know I love it! So I go see my OB, she gives me CHEMO MEDS to help the nausea and vomiting... get to my moms, fill the script, pop a pill, pass out for 5 hours, wake up and eat EVERYTHING IN SIGHT! If there was any moment in life, that I would have turned over to Jesus, that would have been it (but alas it was not).

So there's the first 4-5 months of pregnancy was like for me...

In case your wondering.. we're having a girl, her name is Arianna, and she is due in TWO weeks.... start panic...umm.. NOW!

SoulCyster

Recently, I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS). What is it? It's many cysts forming on your ovaries, that cause many issues, from diabetes, to stroke, to heart attack, to being infertile, and miscarriage (which I have had). It can make it very difficult to lose weight, it makes you tired, not feel well, depressed, grumpy, it can cause hair growth, amongst other issues.

There is no cure for it, it will never go away, you can only treat the symptoms. My primary DR. believes I may be pre-diabetic, she is worried because my triglycerides are so high, but my chol isnt. but my good cholest is very low (which can cause heart disease), my testosterone is high, my folate is low. I've been testing my sugar daily, and I cant say I am to pleased with the numbers it's scary, this PCOS, I surely dont want it, and would love to give it back. For awhile its been "why me?" "why MORE health issues". It's frustrating, it's almost as if my DR walked in and said "Carlyn, you have cancer" Because it was just one more thing to add on to the list of things wrong. I knew there was an issue with my ovaries, I also knew something serious was going on, most people thought I was reading to far into, my being tired the aches and pains, the constant hunger, the inability to lose weight, I had a hunch, and I went for it, I got blood work done, and made an appt with my DR. I was hoping for mono lol, I got much more than I bargained for.

I can not say I am not depressed by this whole thing, because well... I am. I should be! I am happy that I finally know exactly WHATS wrong. I have an appointment with an endocrine DR this coming Tuesday, more or less to see if I am really prediabetic (or just insulin resistant), and a 2 hour glucose test is more than likely headed in my direction (and I am not looking forward to it).

Kip, I think is in a bit of denial about the whole thing, you never know maybe my DR was wrong, maybe I am not polycystic, and if thats the case than I start all over again with my hunt to find the problem.

I have options, ignore the whole mess, change my diet and go on a water pill, or bc, if I am trying to conceive than I go on metformin, or if i am diabetic I go on metformin, or "Ovary Drilling" *(Sounds enticing no?) There are options, I've changed my life so many times, I was hoping I wouldnt have to again. But alas I do, and hopefully its the last time that I HAVE to, and next time will be, because I WANT to.

Indepence is not "free"

What does Independence mean to you? How has being able to still have it, effected you? Are we better off having it?

Independence has brought fourth many of wars against us, has made people hate us for our radical way of thinking, and the way we live our lives. Freedom has always come at a cost. But how can anyone be truly free, when our men and women are dying for us every day, or when the government says who we can, and can not marry. When they tell women you DONT have the right to choose or when a caucasian man gets a higher pay over an African American man, for no real reason other than how much melanin they have.

Do not get me wrong, I love my "freedom" I love this country, I love all of the men and women who fight for me because I am to chicken to do it myself. I love having options, even if some of my options are governed by this country, I appreciate being able to be Atheist and not be killed for it, but this "free country" doesnt have health care, we have second rate clinics where most of the time, people are getting second rate care

They are starting to say we are in POST 911, I dont think we ever really will be, it's a sad reality we have pissed off way to many people, to many now want to cause us harm for killing their loved ones, for invading their space, for shoving our money, and our strength in their face (ha money, we're all broke), we have started to "bribe" terrorists so that they stop attacking us, and so certain countries stop fighting, when did we become so naive to believe that giving money will make a group of people stop the hate? once the payments stop, the killings will start again. We insult EVERYONE! And then we get up in arms when they strike against us. I do not condone war, I think it is a tragic, little mans syndrome way of getting your way.

I am all about world peace. Killing begets killing. We can not turn the other cheek when terrorists come into our borders and kill thousands of innocent people, but we have got to find a new way of dealing with people who are out to harm us.

I am lucky to live here, I am lucky to have so many brave men and women out there for me, and my future children making sure we are safe.

We are taught when we are very little to "turn the other cheek", the same people who taught their own children this very law, are the very ones out there, striking against people. Like I stated above, I am not an idiot, I know that there has to be consequence for those who strike out against us, all those who have passed due to other countries or for whatever reason, my heart goes out to them, I was just as angry, but it has been 8 years and we've still done nothing but make us even more of a target...

Freedom should not come at the cost of others lives, or choice.

Men

Ahh the man I chose to spend my life with, the man who is so stubborn at times, it makes me want to rip his eyes out.

The man loves golf, he has been playing A LOT lately, just about every week, but lately, he's come home limping, and quickly will rip his shoes off and put on his crocs, yes I said crocs he hates them and loves them... (he'd admitted they are the most comfortable, yet ugliest things he's ever seen) and precedes to limp around, I ask not once, not twice, closer to 10 times whats wrong? until he finally says

"oh my heel hurts" (insert very loud, very manly sounding "scream" you've ever heard)....

I tell him he should see an orthopedist, it could be heel spurs...he nods.. i said I am serious he says

"I'll suck it up"

I say, well all that complaining and screaming and crying doesnt sound like sucking it up, it sounds more like you need a bottle...

He's going next week.

The strength of a woman

The woman pictured above, is someone I proudly call Mom... or "Mommy" when I want something.

You do not know strength and love, until you've met my mother. Her and I; I have learned have a lot in common, and I do not mean interests although we have many of those in common. What I am talking about her, is our pasts... We grew up in very different times, but our experiences seem to have been almost identical.


Our relationship with our natural fathers was fairly similar, not one of the greatest, and nothing we could boast about. Although my father past when I was much younger, hers did as well, and I was able to help her through it... Our relationship with our step fathers, is just about exact, I did not always get along with my stepfather, we fought more than we laughed together,, and she did as well with her step father. It took a very long for either of us, to bond with a step fathers, but once we did.... it would take an army to pull us apart.


She has gone through what she did, in order for me to survive it. Seeing her strength, and that she was able to over come it all that I was going through and would go through, helped in helping me be able to stand here today.


My mother survived 13 years in a marriage, most women wouldn't last 13 minutes in, and she did solely for her children, because I loved my father, and at the time I was blind to the every day happenings. But once the blinders came off, and saw what was going on, I told her "Mom, do what you have to do, I am surprised you haven't already" I believe I was about 11 or 12 at the time, her choice was already made, long before I spoke my mind, but I do believe it made it easier to say "ENOUGH!" and she did, with an iron fist. Does my mother have regrets? Of course, who wouldn't... Do I think she did anything wrong? In that particular situation, I do not.


She had to protect herself, and me I was still a child everything that happened after that, wasn't her fault, wasnt my fault really, it wasn't any ones FAULT. It was bad choices and a disease that ended it all in the tragic way that it had.


My mother amazes me, she struggles every day with my 94 year old grandmother with dementia, she fights to wake up, she fights to push through I not only admire her for it, but I strive to be her later in life.


My mother drives me crazy, our attitude is oh so different, I am very loud, I speak my mind no matter the cost, and I do not pretend to "tolerate" someone in order to be polite. My mother is a Lady, while I am as well, I have the "boy" in me that she does not have, and its not a bad thing at all, it's who she is.


I love my mother, for who she is, all of her quirks, her humor, her intelligence, and tendency to be a little naive. She's a fighter and she is who I get it from, it's her who I strive to be, and it's her I owe everything to.

You do NOT know strength and love until you know MY mother,

Family Ties

13 years ago, I had 2 grandmothers; one I called Grandma, the other Nan. This is Nan, my fathers mother. I remember her being a very stronge woman, very giving, loving but oh so stubborn. She had a cockapoo named Muffin, who I was rather afraid of. I remember her loving me unconditionally, and loving nothing more than me being around, I know this because of all the kisses and hugs. She was a good woman, who tended to butt in when she shouldn't have, and got in the middle when it wasnt needed, but no one could deny her love for her family, those who were blood, and those who weren't. And as I said before, she was s t u b b o r n she knew what she wanted, how she wanted, when she wanted it and there was no changing her mind. She adored her son, he was the light of her life, and he loved her just as much if not more.

My father passed away, 12 years ago June 11th 1997, his funeral, was the very last time I saw my Nan, it was the last time I spoke with her, it was the last time I knew anything about her... I remember her, vaugely.

Few years ago, I reached out, found my "aunt" Joan (who moved 400 miles away with out a word to me about it)(with my nan, by the way...), we stayed in touch, sort of... Joan and my father were nothing alike, nor were they close, they were opposite, as night and day, winter and summer, she was older than he and he never really "liked" her (I understand why).

I found out through Joan that my Nan was ill, liver and kidney failure.... Her and I lost touch again... one very random day, I searched and searched and found her phone number, I dailed it 4, times hung up 3 times.... the last call... I let the phone ring more than once, and a voice answered, it was my Nan.... I cried instantly, and when she realized who it was, she too cried. She just turned 90, she explained the kidney and liver problems she told me how often she thinks of me, and how much she loved me we were able to clear things up, we were able to bond, we spoke for only half an hour for she was tired.... but we hung up in tears, saying over and over how much we loved eachother, she was shocked at the fact that I was now 25 years old, living on my own, she was upset when she realized she missed me truly grow up, and hurt that I had been through so much with out her there...

I went to my fathers grave this past weekend, like I do every year inbetween his birthday (may 8th), and fathers day... I pull up to the grave to see fresh dirt...I had an idea.. but thought NO Joan would tell me.... apparently I was very wrong...

April 22nd 2009 Nan passed away in VA, and was buried April 25th 2009, 45 minutes away from where I live, and I was never told....

"That day, was a day I will never forget, for reasons I will never forgive" - Me.

I of course have regret, that her and I never re-united, that we didn't have a relationship. I am glad that one day, on a whim I chose to locate the phone number of where she lived, and found the courage to call and be able to tell her that I love her, because I do and always will.

Most of all, what I got from this expirence is, that I am so thankful that I am nothing like Joan, thankful that I went through all I have, thankful that someone whome I share DNA with has shown me, time and time again who I do not want to be in life.

So Thanks Joan....

Rest In Peace Nan...

Second chance....

A sign of summer... atleast thats how I see this photo.

I used to fish a lot with my father when he was still alive. I loved it, I had my very own yellow snoopy tackle box, and pole. I was pretty good at it, even if I ever only caught the tiniest of sunnies, I felt like a true lil' fishermen, and my father always allowed me to bask in the glory of catching more than him. I've picked up a pole possibly once, since my father passed that was 12 years ago, and I hadn't touched a pole fo atleast another 4 years before that. I have not wanted to fish, I wanted to keep the memory of fishing, for only him and I. I have his old gear, the last tackle box he ever owend, that I got hm for fathers day, his salt water pole, and his net. For the first time in age's I want to clean off the dust, and have at it... It's a strange feeling, to hold on to a memory for so long and work so hard at keeping it just a "him and I" memory and to finally just let it go...

It may sound silly to most people, I mean come on it's just fishing! But I dont think it really had anything to do with the actual act... but more of it's what we did together, if it was the only thing....

Now this picture, is GOLDEN! This is my step father, the man I proudly call Dad! With a donkey.. there were a total of 3 of these cuties, on a farm that my Dad drives by daily, so we pulled over and took some pretty great pictures of these guys. They were the sweetest of sweet, this one took quite a liking to my Dad, he would nuzzle his tummy if he stopped giving him attention, and they loooved to be pet. When we wanderd over to take a few pictures of the Goats, they tried to follow us. Super sweet, can't wait to see them again...

Now this, this taking picture's thing... this will be a memory of my dad and I, for years to come we both love doing it, and I think we're fairly decent, if anything we enjoy doing it together and in the end... it's really all that matters no? Him and I have always had many things in common, like music, a love for animals but photography seems to have taken us to a whole new level, I think it's what helped in making us "father and daughter". I've seen him as "dad" for years, but not as of until lately, have I really felt him as Dad, and I can honestly say that buying a camera and taking pictures has helped in making him to be the Dad in my life. He is single handedly one of my absolute favorite people in the world, I worry about that man something fierce.


I survived my biological father's passing, (barely), but something happening to my stepDAD puts a whole new spin on losing it, and knowing that if one day something does happen to him (which won't because lets be serious I will find the fountain of youth, and force him to drink it until he explodes) I have something, something special, something that if I lay it out in just the lay it out in just the right order could tell a story unlike any other, I have memories, I have pictures of my favorite moments in life with him of just him and I. And that makes it all ok... (just not the anything happening part, thats not ok) ( and like I said before... not possible the man will live forever damnit.. FOREVER I SAY!).


So I guess it's why I feel it's ok to fish again, not because my father has been replaced, because by no means has he, but I have something new to hold on to, something else that helps make the possible fade of a loved memory feel not so terrible, I have the option now, where as before I had none. I get a second chance, to have a Dad, and I think that's why now, in my own twisted head it's ok to do something I ever only did with my father....