“No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don’t want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.”

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

And as he was a proponent of change and progression… this had to happen.

Out with the old… in with… whatever is next.

RIP.

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Honestly, the whole practice of hiding it for 13 weeks is NERVE WRECKING. Because all you want to do is share with someone… anyone… But no. Cower in fear at the prospect that you might announce and then something terrible can happen. That? all by it self? can drive you mad. Maybe mad enough to accidentally miscarry.

Well, anyway it’s sliced – it’s tough living this life – even if it’s only for 9 months. People expect a lot. But the bottom line is that I’M expecting. So it’s okay for me to be a little selfish right now – and have this be about me and my little one on the way. We have an appointment this week so that I can get a glimpse at the development. It makes me nervous to go this long w/o seeing her, but it makes the trips even more so worth it. I just hope the placenta has moved. I need the docs to lift this sex restriction! LOL!

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Look, I’m not your friend. I’m your Mother.

I am the only Mother you will ever have.

My job is very different from, and way beyond, the job of being your friend.

Also, this is not a democracy.

I didn’t campaign for you to elect me. You certainly didn’t vote for me.

But, God did choose me for this job.

If you could realize how much I love you, (I hope that deep down you know I do)

Then it would be easier for you to take my discipline because it is an extension of my love.

I, as your parent, have a tremendous responsibility.

I am the one who God trusted to introduce you to this world.

It is my job to guide you to the road that will take you to a good life.

You may question my intelligence, my logic, or even my sanity, but you cannot question my intent.

This is not an easy job! (One that you won’t truly understand until you have kids of your own!)

The one thing I want you to get from all this is… I love you so much that I am willing to sacrifice your love for me in order to put you on the right road.

If you still love me, that’s wonderful.

But that’s not as important as the fact that I love you!

Good night.
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So we went in and were waited on by Rebecca herself – the owner of the store and the name on which all the stars signed their autographed portraits to. The likes of the SATC girls, Rosario Dawson, Martha Stewart and Brooke Shields. And I can see why. Rebecca LOVES what she does. She does it with efficiency, knowledge, a wonderful attitude and chipper witty commentary. She knows her bras and knows what looks best on a woman. I asked her if she could fit me, because the last time I got fitted was a dogs age ago. She said sure. I took my top off and asked me to burn the bra I currently was wearing. “It does NOTHING for you, honey” – What I already knew. So she sized me up visually and said… “What do you THINK you are?’ And I said – a 38 D last time I checked. She said… “Close. I think that you’re a Double… let’s see…” and proceeded to bring down from shelves gorgeous lace and lined bras ready for the fitting. I prompted – “I usually get lined bras because my nipples… well… they have a mind of their own.” To this she responded, “You’d be very popular in Europe.” “All well and good,” I said, “but when I’m in meetings trying to keep the attention of minds, it’s distracting.” She agreed and we went back to trying on pretty bras. The prettiest of them – a lace cup that held me perfectly, did not give me torpedoes, and looked great under a tight tee. Only 175 bucks. But one day – that’ll be a standard and I won’t bat an eye to it. She let me try on several bras w/o restriction even though I told her that I’d not be purchasing today. She was just as attentive, even though she was leaving for Europe in an hour (she was frustrated because her friend only gave her 1 day to get it together and they’re going to the spa – oh such challenges).

At the counter while Max was checking out I peeped these really cute black satin and pearl cat ‘o’ nine tail / riding crops. AH-DORE-ABLE. Not so cute for 119 bucks. I felt it up though… I can make my own. Getting in touch with my inner Domme lately. Eh. A discussion for another day. LOL. All in all a really good experience. And? I got some double Ds

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Things have changed at the job piece and as a result, my workload has doubled (almost tripled… but still a little less than tripled). To say that a sistah hasn’t had a chance to BREATHE lately would be an understatement. I’m moving at a much quicker pace lately and it’s intensely important for me to keep on top of things… crossing t’s and dotting i’s.

My latest dream was of me at work (those who know… already know how bad it is when I start to dream of my work place). But I was bustling about in a dimly lit verson of my current office and there had just been another huge let go of employees and rumored that there would be more, so all of management was skulking about trying not to reveal their master plans to the underlings whispering in corners and looking over their shoulders. All the while, I was just trying to keep track of stacks of papers on my desk that all threatened to topple over and lose their order. It was very much like watching a plate spinner do their thing… and this song was the soundtrack. This song is from my days of heavy drum & bass and downtempo music that helped me to focus when I coded webpages. So… again… appropo. (You have to listen past the 1:00 minute point to understand what I’m talking about; otherwise the point is lost on you). Also helps to listen to this with plenty of base. The song has so many beautiful layers.

Enjoy!

I stared at it for a while, just to see what she was peddling. Last time I heard her make an uproar in the press, it was for selling a book detailing every celebrity’s cash and prizes she’d stuck in her mouth. She even went so far to do it on screen to Mr. Marcus for the world to see. (I saw it, and quite honestly? I thought they should revoke her “Super” hero status… she ain’t do nothing special). The last video I saw of her was a rant after the guy from “Family Matters” (the older brother) dumped her so she went through a bag of their shared toys complete with benoit balls and butt pluggs, outing his enjoyment of things going in through the out door.

And now she has a book that claims to show us women (and maybe men, whatever floats your boat) “how to find, seduce and keep the man you want”.

I read the line over and over again. And looked up at her picture…. and read the line again. And referenced all that I knew about her… and read the line again. Okay. Taking into account everything that I just said about her, i focused on the picture.

Assuming that the picture is actually the real position that it was taken in and not transformed or reflected on a horizontal plane to make right left and left right (designers and photo editors feel me) then we have to extrapolate that her left hand is being prominently displayed on the cover. Let’s take a closer look…

There’s something missing from this picture to make her book’s tagline altogether believable. She’s going to tell me how to find, seduce and keep the man I want but there’s not even a TAN line on that ring finger. Not a trace that any man she found and seduced had decided to stick around long enough. But I feel like a million women are really going to trust her to know what to do to get someone to love them. Whatever happened for checking the fruit on the tree before asking someone for advice? Don’t ask someone who’s in a failing relationship how to save yours. Don’t ask a broke compulsive gambler how to win in the stock market. Don’t ask someone who’s morbidly obese and wants to do nothing about it how to get thin. And to this we add… don’t ask a whore how to be an honest woman.

I wonder if she’ll take her own advice one day and actually get someone to stick around. Or might the next book be about How to properly use your Rebound Guy; or How to get his stuff out of your house; or How to make it with his friends so that you get him jealous.

*smdh*

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I haven’t posted about my recovery since week 2 because I was getting so stir crazy I couldn’t really put it into words anymore. I started to get a little frustrated with the prospect of ALWAYS being home. It felt like I could do more and be more if I could just go outside. But then I said, well… what could I do right here w/o leaving the house. And my good ole Wii caught my attention. My work out because a pivotal part of my morning as I can’t control popping wide awake at 5 AM right now (I have SO much more energy as a result of the fibroids being gone). So I take the early morning as an opportunity to meditate, enjoy the sunrise and exercise. My body is looking and feeling different for it and I love it so much. I am just worried about finding time to do it when I’m back at work but i’m going to hope and pray that the energy I feel isn’t just because I’m away from the office… So that it continues when I’m back there. I don’t want anything getting to be an excuse in my progress so I have to anticipate what I may have normally used as “reasoning” (for instance my hair was THE. BIGGEST. EXCUSE. for me… it was too much for me to sweat out my perm every day. Excuse removed. Literally.)

So in terms of my physical recovery from the surgery, my incision healed up completely round about week 3. Even now (week 6) it’s still tender and itches, but I understand that’s par for the course with one of these. So I take it in stride. It healed pretty neatly so that I didn’t feel like FrankenToria, so for that I’m grateful. I haven’t really felt any serious movings around on the inside as far as feeling that healing. But I did get my period last week – I won’t go in to gory details for the sake of the men / squeamish that read my blog, but I’m hip to the idea that it’ll take a few months before my body is like… “hey wait… there aren’t any more fibroids… we can cut back on the production here.” The good news is that it only lasted 7 days. I know … I know, normal girl reading this. That seems like a LOT to you. But great to me when on average it lasted 13 days. So yay for progress!! It still feels AMAZING to push down on any part of my abdomen where the fibroids used to be and feel…. nothing. Just .. like… fat. LOL But soon I won’t feel that anymore.

The prospects of the future are inspiring. I might be as thin as I was almost 10 years ago right now and steady declining. The energy is up, so the spirits are in check. I go back to work soon, but I believe that this break made me a more positive, creative and productive person to have on the workforce. And best of all… There’s the prospect of having a sweet little baby of my own. The hope doesn’t stop. Neither does the prayer… and I’m doing all the action on my part. AMEN

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Friday / Saturday / Sunday / Monday – Most of the experience of these days was the same. Trying to move around minimally… taking my Tylenol ES every 4 hours to keep the low grade fever at bay. Taking Tylenol PM at night to see if I could get some version of rest, but it always ended up being some kind of hallucinatory sleep from which I’d wake up drenched in sweat and with the CRAZIEST headache sitting on the crown of my head. I was limited to doing pretty much nothing as per the doctor and Earl. So there was a LOT of reclining and asking for E to do things I’d normally just get up and do. Laced through all of this were visits from family and friends a plenty; lots of phone calls and emails all of which were really comforting and reassuring. There’s such a great “community” amongst those I hold dear. I feel excited for the kind of close knit wonderfulness that my kids will benefit from. It’s really amazing.

I frustrated myself a LOT because I’m too damned independent and on occasion, Earl would find me doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing… like… bending… or lifting… or … *ahem* sweeping the floor. He was quick to put me in my place though. After enough delinquencies in my behavior, my best friend J told me that with all that’s in store coming up (getting pregnant, having babies in succession) this might be the very last long time I have to relax and I should revel in it. I’ve taken his advice and am running with it. He’s right. I don’t think after this year I’ll sleep again for 20 years. So i might as well just sit my ass down. LOL!

On Monday I insisted that my brother come by and we fete his birthday. We made him lasagna (as I know Mommy would have made for his birthday because it’s his favorite dish that she prepared on his birthday), some garlic parmesan bread and a chocolate cake. I knew this was his first birthday without her and she was such a huge part of his life still… that she might be one of the only people he’d spend his birthday with. I knew I couldn’t take all the pain away, but maybe lessen the blow.

Tuesday – We woke up bright and early for the appointment for the doctor to remove the staples. What I had realized through trial and error was that the staples were pulling both sides of the skin around the incision and holding them together to fuse. But with all the motion I insisted upon doing… i occasionally would either stretch the incision open, or force the staples to pull to hold together more causing tearing. Not a lot? but enough to be painful. When the nurse tech lifted my shirt and lowered my skirt she was like “wow… those staples are TIGHT. She took what looked like a needle nose plier and grasped the top of the upper most staple and twisted it out of me. Painful? To say the least. And that wasn’t even the most tender of staples. As she worked her way down, she entered the realm of the staples that had been torturing me most all week. And it was all I could do not to scream. Earl sat there and looked on helplessly. I couldn’t even bring myself to grasp his hand because I knew that it would be painful for him, so I just gripped the mattress of the examining chair and gritted my teeth for all 30 staples. They then cleaned the incision with betadine ointment and held it together, finally, with something called “steri strips” – little white pieces of surgical tape that they told me would “fall off on their own” and completely concealed the incision from me. It was still tender but at least there weren’t staples tugging at the skin anymore.

Wednesday / Thursday / Friday – was more of the same as the earlier part of the week. On Wednesday I pulled out the cornrows so lovingly plaited by Victoria and the result was a big bright afro

that Mr. Earl would not let me comb down because he loved the Angela Davis / Coffee / Foxy Brown-ness of it all. It was HUGE.

On Thursday Max came and hung out in the evening and then took a day from work on Friday to sit with me and her Macbook and surf and hang together. We were playing some oldie songs and reminiscing about the 70s and the 80s and the quality of music from back then. We were definitely playing the music loud. But it was still pretty early in the evening. And honestly? we don’t play music that loud at all in this house. But it didn’t matter. My downstairs neighbor came upstairs and made it sound like it was something we do all the time – make noise and make her miserable. Max had some colorful things to say regarding other things she could have been doing. But I’ll spare the public LOL!

On Saturday, The Faction planned a little get together for about 4 in the afternoon so E and I (my participation was limited) tidied up the house and I showered, washed my hair and got dressed. Folks started showing up about 4 and by 6 it was a full house, Faction and Friends. There were spirits and fast food and music and chatter. My spirits were high and I was glad to have everyone around and happy. I did a little dance or two (my mistake) and my body let me know immediately that it wasn’t ready for all of that. Unfortunately, that brought the party to an abrupt end and folks made their way out so I could lay down and I did exactly that while a watchful Earl monitored my sleep. I was really sore on the inside, but hoped it would go away in the AM. Which it did. But I truly learned my lesson. It’s only been a week. Major surgery is no joke. I really just need to take it easier than I’ve been or I may suffer consequences I’m not ready for (like more weeks just sitting around doing nothing).

Sunday was a complete day of leisure, watched movies, played video games. Spent a great deal of it on my own as the Mr. went to represent the Flearys at my chapter’s Community Charter Day Celebration. And when he got home, we ate dinner and I fell asleep. Nothing extravagant to report on.

Today I go for my post-op appointment at 3:00. There’ll be a separate post on that – with the results of everything the Doctor found and our next steps. *keeping fingers crossed*

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