Sonnets of forsaken arrows flight
Sounding in the ever present blackness of the night
Desolate and darkened as the future seems
Of hallow hearts and broken dreams
Angels called away from me
With halos forever over thee
I ache inside to hold you
Greater service you were meant to do
So small you grew inside of me
A mothers fate would hide you see
Until the day you fled from me
A mother and child not meant to be
For now life a terrifying tangle of fears
A heart drowning in unfalling tears
How can a mother move on
To see a new and brighter dawn
With undying pain that grips the soul
This shell never again to be whole
But rather a shadow of a mother to be
Fading ever faster in darkness surrounding me
Dispare overtakes the once brilliant light
Lost is the desire the fire to fight
Disheartened lost alone in the rain
Wishing hoping for the loss of pain
For to feel nothing is better by far
Than to see and to feel this terrible scar
So Angles I beg you leave now my heart
Grant me I pray you a painless new start.

There is strangeness to the feeling inside me. This is the second time this year I have lost a child before the end of the first trimester. It is the third time over all. I was crushed the first two times as one would imagine I should be. I spent so much time drowning in my tears I feared I might actually die. It is now that I feel I may truly have died on the in the inside. For it is now in the lack of pain and sadness that I realize how deeply those first two losses have affected me. Lets go back…

The summer of 2005, late June… My body has for the first time betrayed me. It had been weeks since I had truly been able to enjoy the most beautiful thing in my life at the time… BEER. They just wouldn’t go down and actually made me sick to my stomach. My friends had noticed changes in my body that I had not. That is until it was called to my attention. Even then I brushed it off as just getting older and drinking a lot. My breasts had gotten huge, and my once flabby round belly had begun to get firm… round but firm. I bled for thirteen days before I called my doctor. I had not even suspected that I may be pregnant. The ‘quack’ suggested that take a test and I did. It was positive. The rush of fear swallowed me. I stopped smoking and drinking and told my male roommate what was happening though I was not totally sure. I also told the man who helped to make the baby. The baby’s father was excited, but not nearly as excited as he should have been. My roommate, AS I REMEMBER IT, was far more excited. I was under the impression that he wanted to raise a child with me. He was concerned when I went to the hospital and called though he could not be there with me. The babies father was uninterested. While at the hospital the ‘QUACK’ would not give me a straight answer as to what was happening, and being naïve I had no clue that the baby was already gone before I got to the hospital. I demanded they get that crap out of me once I talked to my sister-in-law and she explained what the doctor would not. I had a D&C that night. It went well and I was home within hours despite the fact that they did not want to release me. In fact the Anesthesia had not fully worn off and I was nearly falling down to get dressed. I pulled my own IV, and got the hell out of there. When I got home I retired to our bedroom and fell into a deep depression. When my roommate came home he was not alone. He had a friend with him and they spent the rest of the night and most of the morning doing coke on the large mirror in my living room. Can’t tell you how mad I was when he came in and asked me to join them (I was thinking I never have done that and Now’s not the time to start) I stayed there in a pool of tears and pain unable to move for a long time ( how long I don’t know) I was so inside myself I don’t remember anything until nearly a week later when I was dragged from my apartment by my family to go to the fireworks. I didn’t speak a word until almost August.
Fast forward to December 2008… I had been back with my ex for only a month. We knew from the day we got back together we wanted a baby as that was one of the reasons I had left him to begin with. I wanted a baby of my own not just step-kids. We had no problem getting pregnant. The day I found out I cried from joy. The next day I called to make an appointment with the same ‘Quack’ that I had gone to the first time. I had to wait weeks before he would see me. In those weeks I had some cramping which the office dismissed telling me to use a heating pad to ease the discomfort. I also began to have headaches all the time. At my first visit (9 weeks pregnant) no ultrasound was done, and I was told my first one would be at thirteen weeks. At thirteen week we drove 45min to the hospital where the ultrasound was to be only to find that there was no heartbeat. The baby only measured eight weeks, though my womb was still growing and hormones were normal. The baby had been dead before my first doctors visit, yet they ignored my concerns and let a baby rot inside me for weeks. I nearly punch the doctor who dared to touch me as I was trying to take in what had happened. I walked out of the room without Troy and just kept walking until I found the nearest bathroom to get sick in. We left the hospital in silence. When we arrived home I crawled into that familiar bed of pain and remained there until it was time to go to the hospital for yet another D&C. This one didn’t go so well. I lost a lot of blood and my BP dropped dangerously low. I had no choice but to remain in the hospital until the next afternoon. I had no choice but to miss some work. My depression was compounded by the drinking to which I had turned, and then again by the elimination of my position at work. Making it all worse the D&C had not been a success and I went on to experience the miscarriage for weeks after the procedure resulting in more trips to the ER. All I had now was my pain, my drinking, and no one to talk to about it.
Thursday June 25, 2009… I had cramps for a couple of weeks and was expecting my period. I woke early with that feeling like something was different. I took a test and it was positive. My only thought was “O Shit”. I called Troy to tell him right away, though I had told myself I would not because I didn’t want him to go through any of the bullshit again if I could spare him. Saturday was a long hot day at his family reunion. I was not feeling well, and thought it must be the heat. My head was splitting, I was cramping and nauseous. After much fighting and stress I made my way home. The next day I woke early and began to clean the house. Only halfway through I stopped and realized I was bleeding. Fully knowing what that means I called the hospital and spoke with my doctor (P.S. new doctor, very concerned, and knowledgeable). I was placed on bed rest. Next day is Monday and I get an appointment to see him. My levels are drawn but by this time I already know that there is no more baby (ha ha mother nature I am a fool no longer). To my surprise I am not in pain, nor do I feel for this loss. Though we had been trying for this baby, I feel nothing but the physical reminder of this most recent betrayal by my body. No pain… no sadness… no fear… nothing. Just a grayness that is strange.
So it is with that strange gray feeling that I know that I have become a shell of a person with no real emotion left inside me. Where there should be a woman in pain grieving for yet another loss, is nothing more than a decimal point holding her place. I could say I long for the days when emotion was the driving force in my life, but that would be a lie. I could also wish for the sweet ignorance that I once had in the time I had a roommate in a one bedroom apartment, but that too would be a lie. For the truth is that I find myself fortunate in the fact that I am now wise to the ways of the world and to the deceptions of my own traitorous body. Blessed am I in the lack of pointless emotions which once had overtaken my world.

So I havn't been around much... it sucks but thats ok cause I'm back and will be checking in at least daily for awhile.


This is M.J. my kittie. Coolest cat ever but a little off in the head. If you can't tell she put herself in the corner and fell asleep with her head against the wall. All I can say is wow.


This is my newest addition His name is Brutus. "the big sweetie" I do not intend to keep him I am watching him for someone else while they are getting back on there feet. (but that's how i got M.J. 4 yrs ago )

See he's much bigger than Adrian



Poor adrian she's got it so rough. Not!

This is Sweetie my oldest and by far the meanest pet I have. She HATES everyone but me. She has drawn blood on several occasions. Everyone entering my house recieves the same warning DON'T TOUCH THE CAT WITH THE WHITE PAWS!!!!

So If You've been keeping track the total is 2 cats and 2 dogs. This is 3 more pets than i ever intented to have. My house is turning into a zoo!

I am now more than a month into being unemployed, and have become unbelievably bored . This is insane. I have looked high and low and have come to the conclusion that I may have to start flipping burgers. I 'm not sure I can bring myself to do it. I know what I can do and what I can't. I once worked in a factory that makes plastic bottles. My dad's wife got me the job. My first day there was 12 hours of hell. I found myself day dreaming alot and wondering why I spent three years and thousands of dollars on college to through bottles down a fire chute. As i stood there FOR 12 HOURS day dreaming I set half a dozen little fires not paying attention to the bottle getting caught in the chute. On day two they moved me to another line where all I had to do was box the bottles. Wow I thought to myself Im bored and they give me even less stimulating work. Oh well easy just pack the bottles sign the sticker and put it on the palett. I can do that right? WRONG I had a woman who must have been 80 yelling at me for 2 hours. How can this be so difficult? O yea, I remember the day drems . I just couldn't turn my brain off long enough to pack a single box the way that old bat wanted me to. So after 2 hours of that I took my first break of the day went outside to smok a cigarette, and never went back. I knew before I started that crazy ass job that I would never make it through the week. I know that flipping burgers will be the same way. I don't want to do that again. I hate to fail at stuff that's so simple. I blame my brain... it's just way to busy for such work. Not that there is anything wrong with work like that. I just know that I'm not cut out for it. Why can't people understand that? Every one has a thing they are good at for me it's people, listening, Emotions, psychology, and socialogy.

So all I keep hearing these days is "Do you tweet?" and "Are you on twitter?" and really I am so sick of hearing it. I got online to check it out a truely do not get the interests. "what are you doing?" every moment of the day? Who gives a crap if i'm getting ready to sit down with a good book and a bottle of tequilla? That's my "me" time. I don't think you really need to know what I had for supper and how it tasted. I am quite sure that I don't want to know that the dinner you just ate gave you the shits! I refuse to spend my whole day tied to Twitter. It seems to me that there is such a thing as to much information. What's wrong with a once daily, weekly or even monthly update on your life? Why do we feel we need to be hyper-connected to everyone else? Aren't cell phones enough of an invasion of why should be a relaxing time at the beach or a romantic dinner? They say it is a way of getting to know more about the people in your life, but seriosely if I wanted to know every detail I would ask. I don't want to know, furthermore, I don't think people need to or want to know every detail of my life. If they do, well... that seems a little creepy. Can we say STALKER? Anyway, my point is I DON"T LIKE IT!!!