Hear Them Breathe

I hear them breathe.

All of them. All 4 of my precious creatures.

I get to spend every night under the same roof as every single one of my babies now.

I get to hear them laugh. Hear them bicker. Hear them have regular little conversations.

I get to see their messes. See their faces. Touch them and hug them. They let me be their clingy mom still. For I’m their mother and their mommy.

I couldn’t be happier! My babies are all here with me; where they belong.

It’s been my dream all along, just to be with them. To hear them be. To see them grow. To be their mommy.

To just be here. With them. Together. My little family! All I have ever wanted were my babies together. To be able to lay down at night and know they’re here with me. To close my eyes and listen vey carefully To the sounds of the night…

To hear them sleep. To hear them breathe.

I gave them life. They give me a reason to live.


My Heart Doesn’t Have To Be Broken

He’s home.

The only boy, or man who will ever hold my heart forever, no matter what he does.

Unconditionally, and unwavering. The only or who I will always want to see. No matter what!

Who’s beautiful hazel eyes sparkle when I tell him I love him, just as they have since he first heard those words and learned to say them back!

I LOVE saying his name and having him look at me. Having him see how much I still love him and always have! Always will. From the moment I laid my eyes on him, I’ve been in love!

I love saying, “Son.”

I love hearing, “Mom.” in his 13yr old man voice.

My heart can finally heal from the ache of my baby being taken from me, so so long ago.

A wee 5yr old mama’s boy, swooped away by his biological father in an angry fit. Now to be returned for SOOOOO long.

My boy is home. MY BOY! My son.

My only son! My beautiful, sweet, not so little anymore because he’s at least 2 inches taller than me, little boy is HOME.

I’ve cried tears of relief that I wasn’t even sure I’d ever cry. I love these joyfully, wondrous tears. I was unsure they’d ever fall, yet here we are.

My heart doesn’t have to be broken anymore. He’s home. MY son. My only son is here with me. Where he belongs.

I feel whole again.

Burned into My System.

There’s so many forms of pain, and I’m oddly angry at the universe for putting me through SO many of those various forms of agony.

However at the same time, I’m thankful in a strange way. In some very twisted ways, I feel like though my heart is tattered, torn, and ratted from the impossible situations I’ve survived… There’s still a beauty to the way I have cradled it within myself.

The way I’ve stuffed it full of whatever love I could muster, and said, “I choose to live anyway. To love regardless. Because we all deserve that.”

The disgusting irony is that I happen to love you the most, and you can’t even look me in the eye anymore; nor can I you, so there’s no hope for the love deserved. That I deserve. That I need.

There’s no happy ending for me. I choose loneliness over a false, a substitute, a filler. I’m fine being just a full heart, broken and tattered. We have a silly love story that can’t be told.

Shhh. My dirty little secret. Don’t speak of it. They might hear you and then for ONCE you’d have to man up for your mistakes. Tell the truth, and pull down the wall of lies you’ve surrounded yourself with. Ignorance is bliss, but your ignorance isn’t blissful, is it? It’s just more “happy” mistakes.

You’re my favorite mistake. A mistake never regretted, but forever burned into my system. Burnt like a never healing slice in my heart! You’re burned into my nervous system and I can’t get rid of you. You’re part of who I am. No matter if we never speak again.

I’m Yours

No matter how long.

No matter how much I’ve tried.

I have no control over who my heart beats for.

Until the day I die…

I’m yours.


Tomorrow is my surgery. 

Goodbye asshole gallbladder. Goodbye random food intolerances. Goodbye constant vile bile. I’m so sick of this sickness! I can go back to being my normal level of me sick. 

I just want this awful organ out of my body. One more day. Less than 24 hours of this disgusting mess left. Thank bloody hell. 

Comfortably Numb

I forgot what it’s like to be fully sober. 

To wake up with zero pain medication. One hundred percent in my body, suffering the aches and pains in my fully sober and untreated self. It’s agony. 

I threw my back out yesterday, and I have have been in intense pain ever since. I took my last pain pill the day before, on a Sunday, not realizing the Monday was a holiday, my pain prescription was out of refills and I’d have to wait until Tuesday for the Drs to be back in office to get a new prescription. This on top of my regular agony, and my 7 week extra pain recently discovered to be a stone filed gallbladder. Swollen, irritated to the max and ready to come out! My consult is at noon today with my general surgeon to schedule to surgery, but I’m in agonizing pain. 

I’m past my threshold. Every joint in my body is aching, grinding, and every inch of my skin is needles and fire. I can hear it in my head when I move my eyes, and my ears drums are so swollen, it hurts to hear the children playing outside my window. A sound I typically adore. 

It’s 8:33am. I barely slept last night, even with 150mg of trazadone in my system. The pain was too much for my body to take. It was far too much to sleep through. I’m used to the pain. The agony. The utter endless discomfort and pain. But expecting me to sleep through a gallbladder of this severity of needing to be removed, and my back in this amount of turmoil… On top of all my typical agony? With only anti-inflammatory and topir? I think not.

I just want to be comfortably numb. 

I Need To Rest

Waking up so sick, hitting the bathroom, back to bed. Sleep. 

Waking up from the sickness. Bathroom. Bed. Sleep. 

Sickness. Bathroom. Bed. Sleep. 

That’s been my last two days. 

Right now I’m awake in bed. The first time in nearly 24 hours. My stomach is turning, my head is killing me. My body aches from all the gut churning sickness. I don’t have the stored energy for this. I’m so tired of being so fragile. 

My thyroid is swollen, and it’s hard to swallow. My stomach is so sensitive, even water makes it churn and growl. My digestive system seems hell bent on ridding itself of everything I’ve ever eaten in my 32 years of life. My entire body aches from the sickness, and I’m positive I’m not even close to fully ingesting my medications, if at all. But I’m still trying to take them as usual. When I can get myself to wake up to the alarms. 

I’ve woken multiple times to my own body expelling its waste, and having no control over my own bodily functions. I’ve not felt this helpless in months. I have not been this ill in so long. I hope it passes soon.

I am lucky to have love and support, or I wouldn’t get through this. It’s hell. I am a mess of a human. So much going on, and so much ahead of me. My body is going through too much, and my mind even more. 

I need to rest. 

Tests… And More Tests

Tests. So many tests. 

Phone calls. More and more phone calls. 

Drs. Nurses. Counselors and social workers who offer support during hardships like this. I declined. So far there is only speculation and “abnormal test results”. 

The first biopsy is soon. September 6th. I’m not scared, yet at the same time I am terrified. Nothing I can do to change the results. I’ll simply have to accept them as they are. 

Hope for the very best. Prepare for the very worst. In all my posi-pesi fashion. 

This first biopsy isn’t even of the breast tissue. That’s taking a backseat to the possible cancerous tissue in my vaginal wall. I’m sure it’s nothing… Just more tests. 

Tests on top of tests on top of tests. 

I’m so tired.


Lumps… Not one, but two. Left side.

Hopefully it’s just fibrocystic breast disease.

I can’t sleep. My mammography ultrasound is tomorrow afternoon. Well, technically today. 2:40pm. Less than 12hrs away.

I’m tired of this. I’m tired of new symptoms. New things inside my body going wrong.

I’m tired of lumps.

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