more crochet

Well, I sure have had an interesting couple of days. I am all over the place with this post so bear with me.

Let's go back to Saturday, Aidan's one month birthday. Or deathday. Or angelday. Whatever you'd like to call it. I learned how to crochet that day, with great thanks to Andrea H.  That day I also realized that I am slipping into depression. Or perhaps I'm already depressed. Or maybe my hormones are playing an awfully mean trick on me.

All I have wanted to do since Saturday is sit on my couch and crochet. I don't care about seeing friends or going out to a movie or for drinks. I have quite possibly given up on life and the only prescription is more crochet.

Hopefully you found the above funny (more cowbell, anyone??), as humor is the only way I am getting through each day, but sadly I'm being quite serious.

Keith and I picked up some things at Bed Bath and Beyond (because we had time) and did some grocery shopping after our crochet circle on Saturday (Keith crochets with metal and pliers).  I had a good time at the crochet circle but it's like a switch went off in my head afterward that said "You will be depressed now." Instantly I lost interest in everything.  I was dragging my feet everywhere. Scuffling as I walked. Shoulders slumped. Wtf. I was surprised by this sudden change but, strangely, it almost felt good. I didn't have to be happy. Sadness was completely taking over and it was ok.  That evening we switched out all of the blinds in our house. I know, I know. My Saturday evenings get pretty wild. It was a little nice to have the monotony of shortening all of the blinds (Keith hung, I shortened) but the sadness was still there. I stayed up late that night, reading blogs of other women who have miscarried.

On Sunday I got together with Jenn and Liz for scrapbooking. I almost canceled. Maybe I should have. We had a decent time and I got a few pages done, but...  There's always a but. You might not want to read this Jenn, so skip to the next paragraph. Jenn.. looking at you makes me so sad. Your baby girl is growing so perfectly inside you and you are doing so well. Aidan was perfect too. If my own body hadn't given out on me he would still be here, growing and kicking and making me so uncomfortable that I'd wish he were out but I'd give anything for that. Anything to feel him kick again. Anything to see an ultrasound where he wasn't struggling to survive. I wish I could say this in person but I can't.  So I told the world instead.

It's so easy to hide behind my computer. A perfect digital wall separating me and you.  You, the world.

Monday was just horrendous. I didn't go to bed till late on Sunday, as I was busy crocheting, so I woke up late and decided to work from home. Yes, my job is awesome, I believe I've said that before. I don't know what happened but all I did was cry that morning. Just little cries here and there, but a lot more compared to the previous few days. And then the doctor called with the lab results from Aidan. My perfect boy. That really threw me off. I. Was. Bawling. Sobbing. Hyperventilating. Wow. I told my supervisor person that I just couldn't work anymore that day, and she said that was ok. Yes, awesome. So I continued to bawl on my couch with the Food Network running in the background, and through teary eyes I crocheted.

It's strangely calming, relaxing. Weaving the needle in and out, making intricate, colorful designs. Repetitive and mind-numbing. Rewarding. That is one thing I really enjoy with crocheting: I instantly see the results of my effort (one stitch down, 87 to go!) and the progress I make over a few hours is astounding. To me, at least.

I crocheted for most of the day and evening. I even ventured out of the house to help Dr. Klutke with his Mac. On the way home I stopped at Michael's to pick up some things. In the checkout line a teenage girl was standing in front of me: Earbud in one ear, texting on her phone, a lollipop in her mouth. Suddenly she turns to the woman she's standing with (her mother? older friend? aunt?) and blurts out "In four days we get to find out the sex of the baby! I'm so excited I can't wait!" Ok, where's the gun? Somebody shoot me.  I don't know if it was her baby, but after listening to the rest of their conversation (gun? anyone?) it sounded like it might be a friend of hers or a sister. Still. Can I please get away from the baby stuff for an hour?  I was so tempted to turn her around and say something mean, something that would make her think about talking about babies and pregnancy in public. I don't know what.. I am not that creative or spontaneous... but it would have been along the lines of "Good luck. I hope the baby survives. Mine only made it to 17 weeks."

I drove home after that, crocheted a little and went to bed.  By "went to bed," I mean I laid in bed for 4 hours crying and watching tv. Eventually I turned off the tv, hoping sleep would kick in, but no luck. The crying persisted, as did all of my glorious depressing thoughts. I'm not sure if I want to say them here. You might want to send me to a counselor or a psychologist if I did.  Maybe some other time. But trust me, they were not pleasant.

Sleep came around 5am, after I grabbed a book to read (The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest - love this series). I woke up at 10 and again worked from home. I feel better today.. like my mind is clearer and not shrouded by sadness. Well, not as much sadness as before. As I write this I of course get sadder by the minute, but I still feel better.  Even with only 4 hours of sleep I am going to attempt to go to the gym tonight with Liz and apparently Kent. I haven't exercised in a long time, and I know exercise helps with your endorphin levels, so hopefully it makes me feel better.

I had some other thoughts last night that are related to the depressing ones. I feel like I just need to get away from pregnancy and babies for a little while. I am going to pick and choose what events I go to based on the number of pregnant women/babies attending (if discernable). I am going to stop looking at facebook. Honestly, every time I've looked at my newsfeed over the past few weeks someone new is pregnant or posting pictures of their brand new baby. Others are posting pictures of their healthy toddlers and children, or posting status updates about how wonderful they are doing. I just can't take seeing that right now. It hurts so much. So much. I can't explain. You'd know it if you lost a child. I apologize if I'm hurting anyones feelings, as I know I am, but I need to think of myself for once. It might not be the best choice but I'd really like to be sheltered from all things baby/pregnancy for a while.  I'll come back some day. Until then, you can read this blog for updates. I might even post pictures here, perhaps of my wondrous crochet adventures.