exhaustion is a major pain in my tushy

All of you who read this (except Whitney...who I have magically transported with me on our practically synchronized move from xanga) are here with me. In the hospital...waiting for little Maggie to show her adorable face to the world. Julie's freaking, which btw I may have crossed over to the dark/sister side...julia may now be julie forever...we'll see...anyway-poor Julia is totally stressed about a million things. I'm by nature a fixer. This makes it extremely hard for me to not take control and fix. In this situation one must tread lightly as we have come to find that we are dealing with a very snooty and controlling specialized physician (the one who is delivering Maggie as Julie's dr. Doesn't wor weekends..lucky bastard. Please remind me when I start to practice to get his schedule..). Specialized MDs are becoming more and more tedious to deal with as the salary gap grows wider and wider betwen them and the rest of this low-life primary care physicians...making at least 100,000.00 more evidently entitles you to asshole treatment of the rest of the world.

I digress. She's in this room full of people, which you all know because YOU'RE HERE...unless you went home to sleep comfortably in your own bed-wise btw..and she's making this face of "I'm not okay." Which she makes only when something is really wrong...and I want to fix it. My relationship with Julia has grown through the years from something where I was deeply broken in need of repair from a leader to that of a mutual friendship. Julia has something I don't-real down to core meaty love you til the end family. One of four girls she has all she needs as far as female intimacy, but she makes room for me. Adam is always encouraging her to call me and spend time with me because she needs people other than her sisters...lol. Which if you have three sister you don't NEED anymore dang estrogen-trust me, but she invites me in nonetheless. We have spent years crying on the phone to each other, diving in deep to the meat, and just loving the other where the cards fall. She was there crying the moment I became a Christian, to say "oh heather...you have no idea how much this will hurt your heart" when I lost my virginity, and full of excited squeals when I finally moved bac home. When I told her adam was the one the week after she got back from that trip she laughed me off but called me crying when he proposed. Of all my girlfriends Julia is the one I don't have to hide with, my all or nothing truth when it's ugly and hair when it's dirty friend. I love her daughter and try to love her geeky husband...but he tends to be harder to reach while hanging upside down on the monkey bars with my giggle through the bad times friend.

Today she will give birth to her second baby girl. I missed watching Natti as a baby, I was in Texas. I'm excited to be there for Julia through not only the birth today, but to help when she gets tired, learn from all her successes and hold her hand through the mistakes.

All of this to say-my body is exhausted but unlike all you lucky turds I cannot sleep. One teeny cup of coffee and my hands are shaking, I can never sleep in hospitals anyway, and just in case that stupid doctor doesn't show on time I have to be ready to catch the baby....lol. Even though I am the least qualified of the hardcore vag monitors here, it is all just a part of who I am...I want to fix it and be whoever she needs me to be right now.

If there were any mis-spells, poor grammar, overly cheesy statements, or down right run-on sentences...it was due to the fact that I cannot sleep despite my exhaustion, I had to keep my hands busy doing something other than picking my nose(cause that's just gross), and hospitals excite me the way a canvas excites an artist or Coraline gets Adam.

My eyes are puffy. It's 6 am and this is the first night I've spent away from my husband since getting married almost a year ago.

I had a dream about him last night. I've been having them quite frequently lately, once every two weeks or so, but last night's was so real...in its unreality.

I was dead and nobody could see me. I was just a ghost flying around waiting to be seen by someone. So I went to where he was and I waited in his room. When he came home he didn't seem surprised to find me or upset that I had just let myself in. He had two black eyes, and he looked so sad. I asked him where they came from and he told me not to worry about it. He was about to cry and just walked toward me and I held him. HELD him. Not only could he see me but he felt me. I told him I was dead, that nobody else could see me, and he thought I was kidding. Then one of his roommates walked in and was looking right through me and he believed. He told his roommate that he wasn't feeling well, and was going to spend the night sleeping...

The thing about my dreams is I never actually experience sex in them. I just know that it happened. Kind of like in a movie where they show two people kissing and then they wake up the next day. It was like that. When I woke up I sat up and felt instantly bad, I'm married....and here's where the tricky part of the dream comes in: I was dead. The premise of marriage is "til' death do us part." My dream had pre-programmed itself to be guilt free. So he and I ran around and lived and visited people together. After we were together awhile other people could see me too until I was no longer invisible to anyone. I could touch others also and it was as if I were alive again. The only problem was-I was still dead. Our time together could not be forever, and I knew that someday I would have to let him go to find another woman to be his everything. I told him and he fought me every inch of the way.

When I woke up this morning, I tried to fall back asleep. For that-I do feel guilty.

Sometimes, I'm not gonna lie, I want to have a baby. Right now. Because everyone is doing it!...lol. But seeing everyone I know and love spawn has really made me contemplate my own plans and "readiness."

One of Julia's friends who I think I'm beginning to be quite fond of, if for nothing else girly gossip and sarcasm, Rae Ann(e?)'s sister recently had a baby. Rae built this TOTALLY AWESOME mobile to go over the crib out of little hand sewn birds of different fabrics (think quilted birds, but cooler...even if that is what they were...lol) hanging from a branch, or something that looked cool/like a branch. Because I'm immature and not ready to have babies-that mobile made me want to have a baby. So I could be a Paris Hilton kind of mom with no emotion/maturity, but at least my nursery would be cool...agh.

But the mobile was awesome, and I want one. I also want to steal her beautiful child Ivy's name...but I won't. Regardless-I am not ready to be a mommy, and will have to live through my friends right now. Andrew and I are in a fantastically selfish place where we can get up whenever we want, eat whatever we want, and are not obligated to anyone. It's fantastic and I really do enjoy it. I can say with confidence, that youth is not wasted on me. I appreciate the fact that I'm a baby myself, and that now is the time to do these things...now if only my foot weren't broken...This summer Andrew and I are in plans with another couple friend of ours to do a week long road trip down the California coast through the Redwoods and beyond. Andrew has never seen the Redwoods, and I am now old enough for wine country. Woo! And of course, because I'm a baby, I want to go alllll the way down to Six Flags and pee my pants. It's fun.

If I had chitlens, that wouldn't be possible. If I become pregnant, we will celebrate joyously. I want to be able to tell my children I graduated from college. I would prefer to tell my children that I waited to have kids so I could establish the medical practice that has then paid for our home, needs, and pretty darn near all of our wants. But the timing is not in my hands. Andrew and I are devout believers in birth control, and birth control only. Our personal feelings are prevention is acceptable, but rectifying a birth is not. As in: we don't believe in the morning after pill. That's not prevention, that's an after the facter. For US, that's what we have decided. How I feel about forcing my beliefs on other people's wombs/future lives...different convo for a different day. Needless to say, bc is not 100% effective, so as married people we are ready to assume parent titles if it so happens.

I have thought this through and thought it through some more, and it's a toughie. As a woman, my uterus keeps urging me to fill it with life, but as a rational human being with the opportunities I have available to me such as career and education (thanks to some loud-mouthed women like me and something called suffrage...lol) I want to wait.

ALLLL of this typing to say-I've thought this through, but I think about all of this every damn day. It's annoying and exhausting. I've read the Feminine Mystique and I've formed my opinions/conclusions. I've learned about the movement and all the "liberation" that was done in the 60's and 70's. I've also seen the studies and aftermath including STD rates that are incomprehensible, the absolute disappearance of family, and where promiscuous sex has really gotten us....so I'm 150% sure that when I have children-I want to be there for them. I have options that women before me never dreamed of, and while I will pursue them full force-my babies will always come first. FIRST. Not second, not an afterthought, but first. When my kids are older, heck-I'm an advocate of the social interaction present in part-time daycare, I'll go back to work if I need to or desire to.

I'm just full of opinions today(always). And I'm bored. That is all.

I feel alone. Which is bizarre, considering I'm married, but I do.

I could say that it is only social isolation, and that I am emotionally fulfilled, but I just kind of feel alone. I love my husband and I know what he needs to feel loved, so I do it and in turn he feels affirmed and needed and then treats me like a princess. So selfishly, at least I see it as selfishly, I feel alone.

I hurt the people that hurt me. Not in a random or accidental way. I purposefully hurt those who hurt me. I hurt those that hurt me and I isolate myself. Then I feel alone. Surprise. To top it all off, I am easily hurt. I play tough, and can always win a fight-regardless of what we're fighting about-but if I'm angry at all ever it means that I am hurting. Which if you know me means I'm hurting all the time....because I'm angry all the time.

My sister-in-law hates me. She hates me SO MUCH I cannot explain it. My friends tell me not to let it get to me, but here's the kicker: she's adopted. By these parents who love her, but aren't always amazing, but love her nonetheless. They bought her first car, and swim lessons which she developed into a competitive sport, and that baby grand in their living room-it's hers as soon as she has a place to put it. They miss her and call her all the time and wish she would just move back to Eugene. So she has this awesome support system, even if her mother very obviously encourages her to lose weight (which at 24 she needs to anyway...) and she hates me so much that she has manipulated my mother-in-law into "choosing sides."She plays the victim and will say one totally witchy thing to me, and then immediately call my mother-in-law crying about how I've hurt her "feelings" and how she thinks now she'll "never be able to fix it."

And my mother-in-law has totally eaten into it. Ally is "sensitive" she just "hasn't let me in" she's "really trying"....she told my mother-in-law from day one how she felt about me. From DAY ONE my mother-in-law was "there for her" and told her that if she can't find anything nice to say to me she should just pray. So when Andrew finally had enough and blew up at his mom for letting her completely ignore me and exclude me at family gatherings, his mom just told him Ally was following her advice and praying because she couldn't find anything nice to say to me.

All of this would normally be no big deal to me except this: My mother-in-law was my last chance. My last chance to have a mother and my sister-in-law hates me so much she has purposefully ruined it for me.

**And because I'm not only emotional but also confrontational...great combo...trust me...agh...I just called my mother in law BAWLING...so emberassing. And we hopefully fixed it. Kind of. Enough to move forward. Which is good. And quite frankly, a much healthier alternative to blogging. Now if only my sister-in-law were that easy...which she's not btw, I tried it once over a year ago and she kept saying "UM, I have NO IDEA what you're talking about?!?"...and then immediately called my mother-in-law and proceeded to cry for an hour about how horrible I am. Yes. Really.

That is all.

Today I reached out and touched somebody. I normally don't, because it's messy. And because I generally don't want people reaching out and touching me-I assume they would appreciate the same distance.

But today, I went against my natural urge to just ignore the woman crying in my pilates class.

I mean sobbing. She came in and calmed down extremely fast for someone who went from sob to total pilates torture, but she was in pain nonentheless. As we were all getting dressed in the locker room all I did was ask her if she was "ok." She shook her head and her eyes started to tear up, so I said "bad day?" Then she started crying. And she told me everything, and it sucks, and she just genuinely needed someone to listen. She has two children who need counseling because of all the suckness, but can't afford it. So I listened, and comforted, and then talked to her about the counseling resources available to her and her children for free. And she started crying again because it's just so hard, and then just threw her bag down and hugged me. So I hugged back and held her until she was ready to let go. Then I offered my husband's expert house vandalizing skills (a.k.a. "tp-ing"/donuting/forking/all around good hooliganness) and she laughed. We talked some more and when she was ready to go face the world and her sucky stuff, she got up and went.

Psychologically people feel better about themselves when they help others. Which sadly is one of the main motivating factors for most people to just do "random acts of kindness." Andrew and I had a discussion about that idea, the one of "random acts of kindness." I feel that there should be no such thing. It's sad that people so rarely do the right thing that it's considered random when it actually happens....but do I feel better? Yes. I feel better because now she knows she has someone she can talk to, and even though I have no idea how she's feeling-that's what she needs right now. I have always considered going to school to become a therapist. Something along the lines of those who can't do teach, which in the field of psychology means: If you're messed up you are DRAWN to helping other people hash out their crap in hopes that it will help you. So I try to stay away from the idea, I don't want poor unsuspecting strangers to be a part of some warped subconcious attempt to reach a level of normalcy. Above all things I have for a long time been convinced I could not counsel adults...they're too whiny. Like me.

But she made me realize that there really is good to be done by just listening, and that doing it for a job wouldn't be all that bad. I would still prefer to go into medicine, and if my patients ever need an ear I'll break that professional code and listen...but IF I must do something else. IF we get pregnant and are given a blessing from the Lord in the form of a beautiful child before the time we have planned for it (like 10 years), then I could definitely see myself finding fulfillment in counseling. Even if it is hard, and there really is no solution, I could try.

So today was good. And I'm not always right (which if you know me, you'll feel vindicated that I just typed that...but if you TALK to me, you'l l know I have no qualms saying it out loud..). From now on, even if I'm scared, I'm going to reach out.

College and stuff

The more time passes, the more I realize I really have no desire to do anything else. I can honestly say that while I like the outcome of adoption facilitation-I could not handle the inordinate amount of desk work. I would love to be a social worker...but yet again, boring desk work...not to mention the fact that it would probably not be good for my well being as after all the threats I would make to abusers, one of them would inevitably fight back and hit me/stab me/piss my husband off and then he'd end up in jail..etc. etc.

I'm reading three (or four) books right now, as always, and one of them is "Learning How To Play God." It's written by a practicing physician who is head of the board of admissions for some college, and is also the Chief of internal medicine at some hospital...I know, so clear right...anyway, he wrote about his entire training from applying to medical school through his residency. Reading it, and I'm not even past the medical school part yet, really affirms my heart. It makes me feel like I really have a chance. Which I think is pivotal to anything.

A career, I've discovered, just consists of a new language. You want to be a doctor? You have to speak medicine. You want to be an astronaut, learn physics. You want to be in sales, learn marketing....which seems self-evident, but I had never thought of anything that way before and when I broke it down like that-medical school became suddenly attainable. I always imagine reaching certain goals as jumping through hoops, doing a thousand things before being considered, but really all I have to do is study. And that's it. Well, study and volunteer and get two amazing recommendations, but either way study a lot. Learning languages is easy for me, as long as I take the time to approach it in levels. I want to be a physician, but first I have to master chemistry, physics, and more chemistry. Biology is also important, but I do not struggle with it at all, so I'm focusing on the things I will have to STUDY for. I start with basic chemistry, then move to organic, then inorganic, then physics...all of these contain labs though so I'm sure my physics will not be completed until pretty close to graduation, but it will be done nonetheless.

I did not grow up thinking I wanted to be a doctor, I grew up wanting to survive. When I was in the second grade I told Robert I wanted to be a marine biologist, and he told me I could only be a doctor or a lawyer. I told him I wanted to be a teacher, he said the only acceptable schools were Ivy League, or MIT preferably....and quite honestly, if I had stuck to it-I could have done it. But instead, from the time I left his home to high school graduation I spent my energy proving him wrong. That I could waste my gift and become something more ordinary. Can you believe that? I was shooting for mediocre!?! Not that being a physician is this horribly out of reach thing, which is kind of what my entire point is, but in his eyes it was. So even now I kind of bristle at the idea of becoming what he always thought I should, but there is nothing else I really want to do. I want to be a mother, but that can come later. Andrew and I have no need to genetically procreate, so adoption can wait until later when things have settled and we're financially in a position to. We want to spend our time traveling, and learning, and growing. If I get pregnant between now and then, we will do what God obviously wants us to-be parents above all else. If it were up to me, I would rather finish school first.

I want to be able to work with Doctors Without Borders, I want to help children and their families, I want to know what is behind things scientifically, and my base desire which takes total honesty to admit-I want to have the answers. At least for something, I just chose something rather large. I want to be a physician. So I'm ready to study, and get it done. School for some reason is now no longer the chore it always was before, it is the means to a beginning.

I hope I can go through with it, I know it will be hard.

I love my husband. A lot.