Good Place

I'm in a good place. I made a goal for myself to get out of the house one or two nights every week to visit with a friend over dinner, and I told Bean I didn't want to sit on the couch every night watching boring TV. So we had a game night once. And we turned the TV off and talked once. I have had dinner with a friend once or twice like I said. And this week we started P90X3, the short version of P90X- it's only 30 minutes a day. We are loving it.

The best part of working out is when you are done, and you take a shower, and you sit on the couch guilt free for the rest of the night with a glass of wine.

I finally got my period back. It started on day 57, with my surgery being day 1. I'm glad to have it, but also annoyed that it's interfering with my new workout schedule- it's not stopping me but it is distracting with all of the jumping around, planks, kicking, etc.

Let me rewind a little and tell you a funny story.

So we have two remotes for our TV. One that does the Directv stuff, and another that's for the smart TV connected to the internet. Mainly we use it for volume and the Netflix button so I (we) can watch documentaries about important things like the real Burt behind Burt's Bees. He does exist.

We lost the remote with the magical Netflix button at least 6 months ago. We figured Abigail carried it around and put it in a toy box or something, and never really tried hard to find it. Then it was Friday night and we had nothing on our DVR that looked interesting to either of us, and our P90X3 had not come in the mail, and I looked at Bean and said, "We have to find that remote."

He thought, and I agreed, that it must be inside one of the couches, where we couldn't reach it without cutting a hole in the bottom of the couch. So we tipped over each piece of furniture- the big couch, the loveseat, and the huge chair and didn't find anything. Until Bean tipped the big couch back and heard something clanging around inside. Eureeka!

He pulled out his pocket knife, and cut a small hole (maybe 3 inches long), not too big for when we decide to sell the couches in the future. We had to tilt the couch back and forth another time to get the thing- we knew it was our remote- where we could reach it through the tiny hole. We couldn't reach it still. I went for our tongs, but both sets were currently in the dishwasher being washed, so I grabbed Abby's small pair from her play kitchen. It still didn't work.

Can you feel the anticipation at this point? We are imagining ourselves watching some life changing documentary about the disgusting food we eat everyday, but first we need to get that remote out!

Finally, I got ahold of it, and very slowly maneuvered it until it was lined up exactly with our 3-inch opening, and slipped it out.

NOT OUR REMOTE.

I laughed. Bean got really mad. He was so ready for that life changing documentary!

It was a remote that his brother had probably lost years ago, and unbeknownst to him was gifted to us when he gave us the couches. As annoying as this ordeal was, we doggedly tried the loveseat, found some hair clips, and tried the chair (found nothing). I suggested we try the identical but older remote that we had in the game room to get to Netflix somehow. Bean was apprehensive, but it worked!

It doesn't have a Netflix button, but he figured out what we need to push to get to our documentaries. He's a genius.

That Friday, we watched Blackfish, about a killer whale at Seaworld who killed a trainer. We will not be spending money at Seaworld ever now. (I will even go so far as to say I'm ashamed at having been there two or three times in my life!)

Then I watched Bound By Flesh, about conjoined twins who were famous back in the early 1900's in showbiz but ended up dying in the hallway of the home given to them by the church where they lived their last few years. Bean fell asleep.

Saturday, we watched Burt's Buzz (you know him, it's Burt!); then Tiny: A Story About Living Small, about tiny houses; then No Woman, No Cry, about women who die from childbirth or being pregnant- that was a good one. Later, I tried to watch Advanced Style about older women with great style in NYC but I fell asleep. When I woke up I put on Monica & David, about a couple who both have Downs Syndrome who get married. I'd seen it before. Bean was sleeping this whole time.

Sunday, our luck changed. I watched "The Dark Matter of Love" about a family who has one daughter, and then adopts 3 kids from Russia, a girl and twin boys. The gist of the story is that there were questions about whether these kids could form attachments to their new parents or not since they were much older than 2 years old and still in orphanages. They did.

I had never seen adoption so frankly portrayed. There were therapists watching video of the family interactions and giving each person feedback on how to better communicate with each other. I thought the family was crazy to adopt 3 kids at once! They didn't even speak Russian! Why did they adopt 3 kids at once?

And then the Dad realized that one of the boys was scared of the lawnmower, so he helped him work through his fears, and soon enough, the Son was riding with the Dad on the lawnmower with earplugs in, enjoying the ride, while I enjoyed the tears rolling down my face.

Next I watched Stuck, about the International adoption process. I always wondered if parents could truly see their adopted children as their own, especially if they were from another country. How naive of me and ridiculous to admit.

Then there was an interview with a teen adopted from China when she was 4. She talked about being glad her parents took her, and then her blonde mom came out. The way they interacted said it all. The mom told her daughter she was proud of her, and that she was so beautiful. Then she turned to the camera and said, "I think we look alike, don't you?" And her daughter was the first to laugh. I could feel the connection- it was the same one I have with my daughter- and I could feel the tears on my cheeks again.

Bean and I had talked about adoption when we were trying to get pregnant for the first time. When it didn't happen after 3 cycles, I started researching.

Then I got pregnant with Abigail.

And then my life got really crazy (as you've read about here) with the death of Bud, leaving my career, moving to a new house, a surprise pregnancy and natural miscarriage, then a planned pregnancy which turned out to be twins like I hoped, and then the surgery to remove that failed pregnancy. And here we are now. 57 + days later and we can try again if we want.

If we want.

I don't want to. I have zero desire to be pregnant and I just found out a friend is losing her baby. It's the worst feeling I can imagine. I said I didn't want anyone I know to go through this and it's happening anyway. She's being very strong, but I was too, the day I found out about Baby B. I realize now that it was shock for me. I buried my true feelings because it was too hard and too scary to acknowledge that I loved that life inside me before it was rational. I wanted my two losses to be the ones that my whole group would carry- I would do all the miscarriages so my friends didn't have to.

I would adopt my kids and maybe have another miscarriage so that my friends wouldn't have to.

Shows how much I know. I don't get to choose.

So here I am. I'm in a really good place in my life, ready to focus on these crazy workouts and fixing our muddy backyard, and convincing Bean that we should adopt a kid now instead of later; and meanwhile my friend is just starting her journey of losing her baby. What a terrible conundrum.

I should end it there.

I dislike being pregnant. I would be happy if it happened again and I would try to stay positive- we have our game plan ready in case it happens.

I would prefer to explore the option of adoption. My heart is telling me that we have a child out there who belongs to us that I won't give birth to. I still have a heart for twins. Bean says we should adopt twins and I say, "ok!" And he just smiles and shakes his head.

This is a gut instinct, the way it felt when we bought our forever home, the way it felt when I knew I wanted to marry Bean even though I was only 23 and I planned to wait until I was at least 28. It feels the same way I felt when I saw that Abs was a girl and I wasn't surprised. I would love to give birth again. I would also love to meet my child for the first time with both of us being fully clothed.

Now I just need to wait until Bean feels it in his heart for sure too.