Shannybo63’s blog

If I cannot hold you in my arms, I will hold you in my heart forever......

So yesterday was rough, but I made it through to Tuesday.  I guess that is something.  I tried my hardest to keep motivated and on task, but it was hard.  There are just so many emotions swirling around that it is difficult to concentrate.  But I hung in there until the afternoon when I found it extremely hard to concentrate so I left the house.  It was my first time outside alone in almost two weeks.  I ended up at Beverly's Fabrics.  I wasn't sure why, but I was there and I was urning for something to create.  I decided to make a plate to pay tribute to our lil peanut with Mod-Podge, Fabric and some puffy paint.  But while I was there I found this adorable beanie baby that I just had to have.  See, I have been contemplating taking my few lil mementos of mommy-hood and putting them in a nice box or something so I could hold onto the few things I had and touch them if needed.  Well the box turned into a Beanie Baby and it now holds all my precious mommy-mem's in it's belly.  So, I can have it forever and no one will know the wiser...well except for everyone on Vox (wow I made a joke).

Anyway - I also made another huge step, I called my BFF Melissa.  Of course I have had plenty of calls and emails from gal-pals wanting to talk, but I have just not been ready.  But I called and she of course got me laughing, then crying and then laughing again.  It was a step in the right direction.  And today I MUST continue in that direction.  I am looking forward to having my body back after it completely heals and I am looking forward to having my heart back someday soon as well.

"I was once a member of the Pregnancy Club, my membership card consisting of two pink lines on a stick. I was eager to pay my dues, just like all the other members. Morning sickness, stretch marks, cravings -- I welcomed them all.

But they didn't last. And before I knew it, my membership was revoked. No real reason -- at least none I could discern -- other than bad timing, perhaps. Or, at least, that's what every one's been telling me. That and "God's plan." 

Miscarriage is a terrible word. As if one has dropped something, or carried something incorrectly. Similar to "mistake" or "misunderstanding." How I longed for it to be either of those things when I learned my baby was gone. Surely, it was a mistake, I prayed. If they would just look again, they would learn it was all a simple misunderstanding.

But the ultrasound screen showed otherwise...for the 3rd time.

1 out of every 5 pregnancies ends in miscarriage, say the books. I ignored this statistic when I was pregnant. So many lost babies, I thought BUT NOT MINE. How could I be so selfish and foolish? Now that mine is one of them, that 1 out of 5 seems awfully small.

At least, it did. Until soft-speaking female voices started whispering to me in my grief, "It happened to me, too." Their eyes tell me the stories of the pain that we share, the pain that only a woman who has carried a child - and lost it - could know. For some, it was fresh pain. For others, it was dulled by healthy babies since born.

A sisterhood of sadness.

It's a silent group, this new club of which I have recently become a reluctant member. Our membership cards are the scars we will always carry on our hearts. Our dues are paid in blood and tears. It is a painful initiation, and one never ceases membership. Because one never forgets.

I am joining, not because I want to, but because I wasn't given the choice. But at least I know I'm not alone. At least I know there are hundreds of thousands of women with me, however silent and invisible, quietly holding my hand."

Thank you to the ladies that have made my initiation a little easier to bare...

If you had to live one day of your life over and over again, which would you choose?

The day I found out I was pregnant for the first time after 2 years of trying.........

Well technically this was 1979, but for the mood I am in right now it is the only song that seems right for my Friday

Show us your biggest dream.

TO BE A MOM

Portfolio-pregnancy

So, I totally fell off partaking in anything I enjoyed doing, including blogging on Vox or even reading blogs from my favorite neighbors.  I totally got consumed with the craziness of work and all involved and now I feel like a fool.  I was laid off today, so my schedule suddenly opened up - go figure!  I am not too upset about losing my job since I was getting more and more miserable by the moment, but I am however very pissed on how it all went down.  So now I have a belly full of anger and no income - isn't that just the pits.  Nothing like beginning the Christmas Season without a job!  So, anywho - I thought I would jump on here and vent a little, but now I am sooooo pooped I have no clue what to say.  I think the more frustrating part of my reality is, I just spent 11/2yrs building contacts in a tanking industry (Mortgage industry) so no one can offer me another gig no matter HOW GREAT I am at what I do.  Oh, well back to the job boards I guess.  Wish me luck!

Where do you consider home?  Is it the place you grew up; the place you're currently living?  Why is it home?
Submitted by uncagedbird. 

 

I consider the place I live now to be my home, Santa Cruz, CA.  I grew up migrating all over the bayarea.  I was actually conceived and incubated in the Santa Cruz Mountains in a town called Felton.  A few yrs after I was born, my mom and dad moved to Antioch, CA and I lived there until I was about 6yrs old.  After that I moved to Sacramento, then to the Peninsula and primarily Redwood City, CA.  Although I have fond memories of what I consider my “Hometown” Redwood City, CA – I wouldn’t call it my home.  I only refer to it as my hometown because I spent the greater part of my childhood and adolescence there.

 

Once my Hubby and I moved in together, we tried a myriad of different places – Redwood City, Sparks NV and San Jose CA….all places we were somewhat happy living in – but none of the houses we lived in ever felt like home.  Not even the home we purchased in Sparks!  It wasn’t until we re-located to Santa Cruz last year for work that we finally felt like we found our home.  I don’t know exactly what it is about Santa Cruz that gives us this feeling, but we just feel like we have lived here our entire lives.  We absolutely adore our rental, we have a very good landlord, we have jobs that allow us to afford the high cost of Santa Cruz and all and all we have a sense of hometown pride!  I think “home” is definitely where your heart is and our hearts are in Santa Cruz!

 

 

I love dark comedies, not many people get them - but I love the way they make me scratch my head and squirm in my seat.  One of my all time favorites has to be Welcome to the Dollhouse by Todd Solondz.  The pure torture of this story is worth watching over and over.  And it is playing tonight in Santa Cruz at the Del Mar for the Midnight Movie - so I am so there.  If you are not close to SC, but want to rent it, here is a run down on the story.  It is definately a MUST SEE!  It is like the FEMALE version of Neoplian Dynamight.

WELCOME TO THE DOLLHOUSE follows the painful daily trials of Dawn "Wienerdog" Wiener (Heather Matarazzo), an awkward, nerdy 12-year-old. The middle child between her geeky older brother, Mark (Matthew Faber), and her sickeningly sweet little sister, Missy (Daria Kalinina), Dawn has a rough time with her family and everything else, including school and boys. She's obsessed with Mark's hunky bandmate, Steve (Eric Mabius), but the only guy who pays her any attention is the local thug, Brandon (Brendan Sexton III), who constantly threatens her with rape.

Welcometothedollhouse

With startling accuracy and humor, Solondz captures the hell known as junior high in his blow-by-blow account of Dawn's difficult life. One of the darkest and funniest tales of adolescence ever filmed, DOLLHOUSE serves as a grateful reminder that puberty strikes only once.

Show the most random photograph you have ever snapped. 
Submitted by Xeyli.   

Slobber

Shew Fly

Random Dancing Hippie

Foot Prints at the Boardwalk

Auggie Stuck In Fence