Someone said to me recently that they had noticed I was blogging, so they thought I must be fine if I was finding time to write.  I think it is only then I realized that the instinct to blog (at least for me) is a cry for help.  (Don’t worry, it’s been heard.  I am very, very, very helped.  My friends rally round me with love, warmth, and respect.  They bolster my self-confidence, and we carry each other other.)

Paul and I have been going through a rough patch – sorry, Paul, if you didn’t want people to know that.  But you know what, it’s natural.  There are ups and downs in a relationship.  The trick is to ride them.  But he has been such a support to me just recently.  The election results really knocked me off my axis.   As I began to recover, and get spurred for action, I got really sick – and I have been sick for 3 weeks.  Just when I feel like I might be recovering, wham, something else happens.

A dear friend of mine died today.  Actually, he didn’t.  He died a couple of weeks ago, and I just found out today.  And I’m so sad.  I really loved him and I just didn’t tell him enough.  He was an odd man.  I’ve known him for decades.  I met him diving in the Maldives.  He was a tall, bald, lovable, funny goofball. His name was Chas.

He used to come to my hut to wake me up to go diving early in the morning (at my request – no alarm clocks on the island).  He would shout “Achtung Baby” outside my door!  We took this photo together:

Chas’ wife had died of cancer several years earlier.  He was a bit of loner, and looking for friendship.  We have been friends for 22 years.  Eventually, he met and married someone else.  Completely coincidentally, her name is Evie.  (I have wanted the name Evie for a daughter, ever since I saw The House of Elliott in college.)

“His” Evie emailed me today.  And I can’t stop crying.  And I did know he was sick.  I just am overwrought with the guilt of not having been there more.  Last time I asked him if he was doing okay, he told me wasn’t feeling great.  I should have known… I should have said more…

And of course I know it isn’t my fault, and of course there is no such thing as “should”.  But I can’t help wishing I had been there more in those final weeks.  I just thought he would be ok.  Or I thought we had longer….

And Paul came home with armfuls of flowers for me.  And I am thankful for him.   And we have each other right now.  And sometimes all it takes is to be present.  And I love him.

The sun’ll come out tomorrow…?

At the risk of always looking on the bright side, there is often sunshine after rain, and there is beauty in the world wherever you look.

And when the sun sets one shit day, it may still be beautiful. And there is always a new tomorrow 🙂

Wow, weaning?  It is a kick-in-the pants, huh?  Why does nobody talk about this?  I mean, they talk about everything else to do with pregnancy:

The bloody show, The ripping, the stitches, The giant hospital panties you have to wear for a month afterwards while you continue to bleed.  (Actually, since “they” do talk about it, I was prepped for this, and I had some very stylish “Depends Silhouettes”.  LOL!)

They talk about that the initial latch might be difficult, they talk about cracked bleeding nipples, they talk about mastitis.

They talk about every possible horror that might occur during you pregnancy, but nobody talks about THIS.

Maybe it’s karma.  I had the happiest and most blessed pregnancy ever, I have never felt happier or sexier.  I did have Achilles tendinitis, and it hurt to walk a bit, but it didn’t slow me down.  I walked 10 miles the day I went into labor.  I ate mussels and had ONE beer with my parents.  My birth was a smooth and fun experience.  Paul played me the guitar, we ate popsicles. I only threw up once.

The aftermath wasn’t bad at all.  I did tear a fair amount.  Evie was breach, but we got her to turn.  But she came out like superman, like the super baby she is, one arm up and over her head.  She ripped that placenta in half, she was so ready to join the world.  Maybe she will be impatient like her mummy. It was all good, I did need a small transfusion and antibiotics, but Evie was immediately an angel.  Even that first night, she slept for 4 hours straight – and did we.   The only difficulty I have ever had was that first weekend when I had mastitis – and constipation because of the Vicodin they give you in hospital.  (Don’t get me going on how much I hate Western drugs!)  I lay on the bed in tears because the slight breeze coming in from the window felt like daggers on my nipples.  I can only be thankful that Paul didn’t belittle me in any way.  He took me pain as his own, and I gave him the number for a lactation consultant.  She was one of the many guardian angels I have found in this life.  She agreed to see me, after hours, at her own home on a Friday night.    When Paul drove me there, she took one look at my tits and told me “Oh my dear.  Those aren’t right”.  I will never forget what she did for us that night.  Never ever.  I need to write to her again. I took Evie in a few weeks later, but I should do so again.  This photo was taken in her bed.  She had been massaging my tits for at least half an hour (maybe even an hour) and showing Paul how to do it, to get the blocked ducts unblocked, before she finally asked me “What’s your name, dear?”  We both laughed 🙂

You know what, this probably IS karma, and I shouldn’t complain.   I did, and do have a blessed child.  I can deal with this weaning.  But fucking hell, it kicks you in the teeth.  Dona, you did try and warn me.  This is the worst emotional rollercoaster I have been on since I was a kid.  Any advice?  Anyone?

Maybe it wouldn’t be busting my arse so badly if life wasn’t so allover shit right now?  I am STILL sick.  Trump STILL won the election.  Work is busy.  Thanksgiving is shit (not Paul’s family – they are awesome, but there was too much travel, United lost one of our bags, Amazon missed a delivery, I am too sick to get out of the house and walk).

But shit, I went there again – count your blessings Dobner!  Man UP!! Are you a man or a mouse?

Squeak squeak

Hey, Claudia, maybe I just need to wallow right now.  It is 6am and I have insomnia.  I’m exhausted but can’t sleep.  I will fix myself tomorrow.  Just hold me right now.  mkay?

Oh, and shoot – the title wasn’t a typo.  I wish I was Irish right now, and I could be keening, instead of just whining 🙂 xoxox

I wanted to share a couple of great articles that others gifted me recently.  This one was from Mary, who is really in the thick of the shit right now:

http://www.timjlawrence.com/blog/2015/10/19/everything-doesnt-happen-for-a-reason

And this one, on how to be a good listener:

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2016/nov/25/how-to-be-a-good-listener-the-experts-guide?CMP=share_btn_fb

I took that last one really to heart.  I think I have a tendency to try and look on the bright side a bit too much.  But when I was really, really in the middle of it, all I wanted to do was wallow.

I still don’t believe “everything happens for a reason”- but, who knows?  I didn’t use to believe “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”, but I might be coming around on that one 😉

I do like the parable that grief is like a stone you carry around.  It never goes away, but eventually you stop noticing the weight  – or you just get strong enough to carry it.

My life is pretty good right now.  I have a great job, a great boyfriend, and a magical, magical daughter.

But life?  You know, life still sometimes has a way of kicking you in the goolies, especially when you are already down.  I love the universe, and try and thank it every day for all my gifts – but sometimes, sometimes I really just want to say “Really? Really life – you want to do this right now?  Ok then, bring it!”

Getting started early on my Thanksgiving Thanks:

With this year, with this month – hell, with this week (!) – it sometimes seems like there isn’t a lot to be thankful for.  But of course, in reality, there is everything to be thankful for.  I live a blessed, blessed life and I thank the universe for it every day.

Thank you so my wonderful family.  To my parents, my brother, my sister-in-law Kim, my cousins, my aunt.  Thank you to my chosen family of friends.  You all know who you are, and I couldn’t live without you.  Thank you to Paul’s family, with whom we will be sharing Thanksgiving.  And thank you to my Paul.  I love  you.  And OF COURSE, thank you most of all for Evie, and to Evie.  If life isn’t whole, it is at least wholesome.  And that is pretty perfect.

Facebook memories reminded me that this day pictured below was exactly 2 years ago.  Evie wasn’t even a blink in our eyes. I had just ran my first ever 5 miles and I had quit drinking.  The quitting drinking didn’t stick (at least not that time), but on Thanksgiving Day – in a romantic Best Western in Coalinga, something else stuck.  The rest (as they say) is history :).

I cannot believe how life has changed since that day.  I think I am happy and healthier now.  (I’m 30 lbs lighter now, but Evie probably weighs much more than that, so I guess my net weight in the universe is about the same LOL!  I somewhat regularly run 5 miles (although I still hate it! 🙂 .)

I am grateful for so much and I am trying my best to recognize it and give back just a bit more than I take.  I am grateful for my health (although I am sick as a dog right now!)  I am lucky enough to work from home today, but I’m blogging instead of working right now (sorry Justin!)  Thank you to Justin, my boss, who I adore, and to my dear, cherished closest colleague Greg.  I am sitting at home working, drinking lemsip, and wearing a scarf. (Thank you, Mum, for bringing the lemsip – that magical English remedy.  And thank you to Evie’s nanny Frances for giving me the vapor rub, which I put in a boiling water with a towel over my head!)

And mostly?  Mostly I am grateful for PIE!! 🙂

“They” say “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”.

You know, I have never really believed that.  Losing Grace didn’t kill me, but it almost destroyed me – and it certainly didn’t make me stronger.  In fact it made me weak.  Much weaker.  Until maybe eventually… through weakness grew strength.  For the first time in years, I think I might be evolving.

I want to be a better person.  I want to be responsible for my own happiness.  I want to be strong.  I want to be self-reliant.  I want to be generous.  I have realized that “they” have some smart sayings.  Cliches are cliches for a reason 🙂

“Be the change you want to see in the world”…. “Fake it til you make it”…. If you can’t be strong, act strong.  If you don’t feel kind and generous, just act it…. Maybe it will become second-nature… habit-forming.  Maybe I will become a better person?

Evie didn’t save me.  But she is my blessing.  She is the light of my life – my joy, my pain.  I love her so fiercely.  And finally with loving her, and she loving me, I am gaining strength, perspective, humility.

She doesn’t replace Grace.  Grace will always be in my heart and soul – but seriously, look at this little girl!

My world was rocked again last week, when Donald Trump was elected president.  This has been very difficult for me to process and I am trying to learn from it.  It has been a humbling experience for me.  I knew I lived in a bubble in San Francisco, and I knew that Facebook was an echo chamber, but I had not realized how big the divide was been the haves and the have-nots.  I don’t believe people voted for Trump.  I think people voted for change.  And if there THAT many people without good education and  the access to information that they can vote for a deranged egotistical misogynistic, homophobic racist – then there’s something truly broken in this world. And since I live in this world, in this America, I have a duty to try and help fix it.

I am realizing much too late that I did nothing to ensure better education and equality across the country. I just saw someone post “Hindsight is 2020” (very clever, btw) but I’m hoping we can do something before then. Apparently Trump DOES represent America. If that embarrasses and horrifies us, what can we do to change America? I’m a little upset with my FB feed erupting with pleas for California to secede. I am really hoping the answer is fight MORE for equal rights, not to (even-jokingly) wish to break away in our ivory tower.

I am still in mourning.  And I know now, from past experience, that it takes time.  I am a very impatient person, but sometimes you have to sit with a thing…

Personally, it has been an extremely challenging week. As well as still reeling from election results, I quit drinking a few weeks ago, I’m weaning Evie (which is causing its own emotional rollercoaster).  I am dealing with some extremely unsettling issues in my private life (health and relationship-wise that I am not willing to share publicly.) And I am pre-menstrual, okay fuckface?!

But I’m still here.

I will never have to worry about my family having access to cleaning drinking water, or whether Evie can have a college education.  Time for me to count my blessings.  And dig in for the long haul.  How can I fight for my beliefs?   I need to practice self-care so I can roll up my sleeves for the fight.  I need to be strong.  This is a marathon not a sprint.

Maybe what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?

Because sometimes you have to.

Never forget.

Today would have been your second birthday.  How different would my life be now if you were alive?

I think about you all the time.  I am definitely not the person I thought I was.  Your loss, and what transpired afterwards humbled me.  I will never be the same again.

I just returned from a week’s business travel in England and Sweden. The journey back took nearly 24 hours – but the clouds from the plane window were beautiful.

Trevor called me this evening from Baja to say he was thinking of me – and you.

Life does go on.