Can't a girl catch a break?

Tired of my swollen eyes yet? Me too! I woke up to some yummy ones this morning. Thinking it might be stress related.

Oh, seems my life soundtrack is back...it disappeared for a while. Here's this morning's song. This girl's got a voice.

Wednesdays: Part 999

Only Kidding. In the past hour and a half, I wrote a draft, accidentally published it, deleted it, figured out it was floating on the Web, freaked out, wrote another post, researched how to remove it from the Web, consulted Older Sis and a blog savvy friend, cried, called KP, made a bowl of ice cream, and decided to write this damn post.

We lost a pregnancy last week.

I started to write about it earlier, but chickened out, and then the above ensued. When I called KP to say that today was the first day that I felt even the least bit okay until my major blogger dilemma, he had the most interesting response. He said, "this is our life, Amy. This is what we are going through. Your blog is about our life and we have nothing to be ashamed of. Write about it."

Is that what I have been? Ashamed? Embarrassed? Why? I did nothing wrong. And I am not a secretive person. Yes, this is personal, but shit, most of everything on here is. Plus, writing is my therapy. It always has been. So, why not write about it? I don't have this blog to sugar-coat my world.

Our Wednesdays have been less than thrilling for weeks. We did have a few good weeks with our news, but then were notified that things might not be going perfectly. Then, Wednesday after Wednesday, we had ultrasounds, that ended last Wednesday, when there was nothing left to see. Friday, I had a D&C. Then I spent several days on narcotics, waking up on Monday to try to figure out where to go from here.

I am sure you are reading this thinking, damn. That is a lot. I agree. But, as Mom says, we find humor in tragedy, some of which I will share in future posts. I am feeling okay today.

I sure wish that I would have been able to sneak my first kiddo in before I turn 30, but from a kid's perspective, it's much easier to figure out how old your parent is if you add your age to 30 than to 29, really.

So, now you know. I can calm my fears of who read my earlier post by posting to the world. I am not ashamed. I am sad, tired, and trying to heal. But I am not ashamed or embarrassed.

Good night Web. Damn, sneaky, crawling Web.

Wednesdays

So, I started to write a post of what's been going on. It's pretty big stuff. Then, I pressed the lock button on my keyboard. Then, miraculously, I hit publish, even though the button was locked. Higher power? Must be, cause I certainly wasn't ready to publish what I wrote. If you read that post, and only you will know how...please keep it to yourself for now. While I will be able to share my story, tonight doesn't feel like the night.

Note to self: write drafts in word, not blogger.

Anyway, I was writing about how Wednesdays have pretty much sucked for a month. And now, with this blogger faux pas, tonight's a little dreary as well.

On another note, here are all the flowers and the beautiful, handmade candle holders my husband made me for my third anniversary.

Three

I have been wondering what to write about. It's not that life has been boring; in fact it's the opposite. But, life has not been fun. We've been going through some tough times 'round here and I didn't know how to get on this blog and act like everything's peachy. I made some decisions today. First, I am going to share my experiences on this blog. I am not going to do this today because I have something happier to write about today. But, I am going to share or over share, as you might see it, because sharing helps me and might just help someone else. Second, I am going to honor my anniversary today.

KP and I made some serious promises to each other three years ago today. In fact, right about now I was probably getting dressed in my parent's hotel room, having a glass of champagne with our sisters, losing my lip gloss, and telling my Dad that yes, I am actually going to do this.

I am a crier. In fact, I have a couple of little tears in my eyes right now. But, I did not cry walking down that aisle to be joined to my husband. I was not nervous, as I used to get in front of audiences. I looked each one of our guests in the eye, smiled, and made my way toward the best decision of my life. I did not have nerves or jitters simply because I knew there was no mistake to be made that day.

With the wind wildly blowing, random Germans in speedos in the background, and loving eyes looking our way, we agreed to the good times and the bad, forever and ever.

As I alluded to, and will write about soon, we are now being tested. Today, as I slipped my wedding band on, after five days of only wearing pajamas, the significance and weight of our commitment gave me strength and comfort. My husband's love, care, and concern for me are enduring. Plus, he puts up with a lot of crabbiness, put kindly, before he corrects me. Today, I appreciate this commitment and and the man who asked me to marry him. Happy third wedding anniversary, KP.

How are we going to celebrate you ask? A nice dinner at home tonight, massages on Saturday, plus a day trip to the hill country with a couple of stops at wineries. His gift...a bag of powdered doughnuts. Yep, that's the kind of wife I am.

He Quit

Smoking. Today. And he's already not nice.

KP: You are being so disagreeable.
ME: No I am not.
KP: Yes, you are. And you are not nice.
ME: I am always like this. You just don't have the patience to deal with it now.
KP: Whatever.

That's pretty much the extent of our conversation today. He's off doing something in the garage. I have a super-scent sniffer, so I will know if he smokes out there. I do trust he wants to quit, even if only to shut me the hell up.

Anything, I Mean Anything

KP would rather do ANYTHING than take a shower. What has brought me to this conclusion? Last night he watched Mamma Mia with me instead of getting saw dust and bon fire smell off of himself. There's no question in my mind now how much he really loathes to be clean.

Practice, Dammit.

This past weekend, KP and I had the pleasure of attending a beautiful wedding on Lake Travis. The bride and groom looked great, the ceremony included a Italian soloist, and the view was spectacular. We sat with a group of my former co-workers, had nice conversation, a few drinks, and good food. Then came the part KP and I have learned to dread, the toasts. The best man lightly dogged on the groom, but had very nice things to say to the new couple; his speech lasted about 3 minutes. That's what I call perfection. The maid-of-honor, on the other hand, did not share the best man's poise and grace. She stood on the side lines, while one of the bride's best friends got up to speak. After making fun of the the maid's social anxiety, the friend went on to make quite an uncomfortable speech. It included details of the bride and groom's meeting on the Internet, how the groom wasn't actually interested in the bride for quite a while, information about previous relationships, and phrases including black ice heart.

To be fair, the bride is a very funny, snarky (as she would say) person. While it was actually fitting, it was more appropriate for a bachelorette party than the wedding reception.

This toast went on for at least 10 minutes. KP nervously readjusted his tie, cuffs, and sleeves, the entire time. I sat with my napkin over my mouth. I will admit that we are people who change the channel on the television when someone does something embarrassing, so we are not the best gauge. Others seemed less uncomfortable, but not comfortable, per se.

Anyway, I cam straight home, called Kurtis to make sure I did not offend her when I gave her toast, thought about the only other toasts I have given, and then about this post.

Here are my tips for people who must give toasts at weddings:

• Practice in front of an audience and take constructive criticism
• Do not mention past relationships or break-ups/arguments
• Mention both the bride and the groom, even if you only know one well
• It's about them! Make the toast about them too.
• Keep it short
• Practice again

That's it.