Throes of insecurity

If there's anything I hate doing, it's self-promotion. But that seems to be a necessary part of getting, say, a part-time job as a writer.  Sooooo (blush/stammer/cough)... I began a Facebook fan page, which you can like here. If you do, indeed, like me. ;) Or if you have indeed ever liked anything I've written.  Or if you like liking things and clicking buttons, this one's for you.

Short rant on my own ignorance: I don't know exactly what this will or won't do for me.  I know nothing about what I'm doing here in "Blogger," and often fear I'm committing a slew of faux-pas... Posts too long, too short, too frequent, too infrequent, too... something.  I mean besides the fact that I blog about my entire personal life under a title some people (i.e. most of my relations) would find outlandishly offensive. (I'm just being literal, really people.  Wanted a catchy title, you know?  Sigh...)

I'm trying to Tweet.  I'm stumbling through Stumbled Upon.  I'm googling blogging tutorials.  I've written to other, bigger bloggers for tips.  No dice.  Cannot yet access the secret knowledge of blogdom, hmmm.

I fear I've kinda estranged some friends (okay, I _know_ I have), since I do a lot more talking here than I do in "real life."  Like one close childhood friend said to me, having read TLC: "Clearly, we are VERY different people."  And I didn't think we were quite so different...

Ouch.

On the other hand, I've gained much more than I've lost.  That, in and of itself, is a priceless outcome of my time here: the support from you (okay that unintentionally sounded like a PBS appeal).  But really, the kindness from my blog fam during this loss has been overwhelming.

I want to thank you again for grieving with me, for remembering and honoring an unborn baby I loved.  It has been a tremendous blessing to be able to share Pepper with you.... something I can't do in the day to day business of living, where people either don't want to talk about sad things, or I can't bring myself to speak, or I do and then they say something dumb like (and I quote): "You buried her? That's so weird."

I really appreciate everyone who has just let me talk (and talk) (and talk) when I'm going there.  Like I do here. :D  I love it that no one here has changed the topic to the weather (oh yes, it's actually been done... more than once.)  I love and thank you all for it.  And for reading ramblings posts like these...

Anyway, to get back to blathering about my insecurities: it doth appear that, on the Feast of the Transfiguration, I posted about a toilet.  I clean forgot.  What kind of a Christian Catholic am I? <wring hands here>

A hopelessly distracted one.  Far from the days when daily church attendance reminded me of what I should be celebrating.

Sigh.

And I'm not saying I'm jealous, but the convent I checked out as a teen?  A large group of women just entered it, vowing their lives to the service of God.  And gosh, peace, quiet, and prayer seem so swell right now.  Again, not that I have any wistful thoughts or anything, but I lived for awhile there in Nashville and these women are fantastic.  They make their own long white habits, and play volleyball in them and laugh and carefully eat pasta with red sauce.  And then they pray together in the evenings like this:

I miss them.  I'm thinking a lot, these days, about all the ways my life could have been different....

I know it's mostly because I miss her.  Like crazy.  So much that it's hard to sleep again.  So much that I feel like I'm back in April, not wanting to be alone and just as much wanting to be alone.

It's difficult to face the cold and stark reality of no baby this month.  I know I have four other girls.  That somehow does not affect it at all.  Not an iota.  And, I suppose, this is normal.

My husband is on red alert that Phase II of my NFP chart this cycle (or the white baby stickers for Creightonites) will be a doozy.  Still undergoing testing, tons of bloodwork left to do (tests beget more and more tests it seems), some concerning symptoms but... frankly "want baby NOW" is the predominant message from my loss-obsessed brain at the moment.  Not that any of that makes sense, but it just is...

I'm happy for her.  I'm miserable for me, right now.  I can't wait for this month to be over, but yet I'm not prepared for the summer to end.  At all.  Or for homeschooling.  I'm so uncharacteristically unready for a year I'd thought would be so, so different from the one facing me.

Thank you for your prayers.  I would have had her any time now, which is why I'm having a sulk.  I'm wondering when her real birthday would have been... which day to do this commemoration stuff I feel led to do.  Nothing really special I guess, just visit her site, release balloons, get some windchimes, order a headstone... stuff like that.  Must change my computer's cookies or crackers or whatever: it keeps sending me sales on headstones.  "Buy two, get one free!"  "Add another name to a stone for just $19.99!"  Okay so I made that last part up but I do get ads...

I'm taking mini escapes.  Like biking for miles and hours with my brother.

Also, been going line dancing with my other siblings.  Even though my only former connection to country music is that my parents used it as bedtime music when I was three, and only stopped because they realized I'd been crying myself to sleep from the sad songs about lost dogs and broken trucks.  But hey, I blame my sister for getting me into it, my sisters-in-law for buying me boots, and anyway it's exhilirating to be moving fast and in time with lines of people.  (For those of you unfamiliar with line dancing: think of a thousand riffs on "Electric Slide" and you've pretty much got it.)  It's fun and feels quite cool, though I probably look like a duck with untied shoes. Most of the time, I'm just gleefully bouncing around, trying to follow along, earnestly seeking to avoid kicking or being kicked, stomping or being stomped upon.

Very oddly... I feel a special connection to her there, always dancing solo (since Dan watches the kids while I go.)  The first time I went line dancing, back in January, she was there with me.  Alive and well and with me.

So now when I'm learning a new dance, I always ask her to dance it with me.  And it might seem odd but I think she helps me with the steps.  When I'm dancing, I can feel some of her boundless joy.  Kinda feels like I'm spending time with her.

"Your love has given me great joy and encouragement..." Philemon 1:7