Tick Tock, I still keep track

It's that time of year again. I'm recalling the day of my hysterectomy (I spelled it right all on my own). I'm still waiting for the year that it's," Hey, that happened and we've moved on. We are too old for that having babies shit, anyway." Guess what? Big surprise coming! This is not that year.

I have come to realize that in all of this time, I have not been physically around a pregnant acquaintance (okay, I need the little, red, squiggly line to help me spell that one) or friend. There's been FB stuff, but no reach-out-and-touch (not that I'm touching) someone proximity. 

Now, that I am around someone pregnant. Someone I see a couple times a week, I realized just how hard it can be at times. I'm happy for her and her husband. I wouldn't want her to change any of her experience around me. Life goes on and there is a bittersweet feeling I hold inside, but that is not for her to worry about. 

What got me recently was her describing the feeling of pregnancy. I don't remember exactly what was happening. I just remember finding myself wonder what it felt like from the inside. What happens when the baby moves? Kicks? Hiccups? All those things. The curiosity I have that will never be sated. 

So, there are the 4th anniversary thoughts. Below are other related posts.

Just to be clear, this may be TMI

Thoughts-ectomy

Things still aren't how they were supposed to be

The right thing sometimes sucks

Unhappy Anniversery

2nd surgeversary

Three years since the day I thought I stopped being a woman

"Besides what you see I [don't] have confidence in me."

People have told me that what I'm courageous or brave for writing the things I do on this blog. Even if that is the case, even if I'm doing more than screaming into the void, I am far from having confidence. And, maybe those things are not the same thing.

My major depression, treatment-resistant depression, bipolar depression, whichever-diagnosis-is-on-the-table depression and my anxiety have stolen things from me. The greatest theft has been my confidence.

There is very little I have confidence in about myself. It's a terrible thing to believe yourself to be incapable of doing most anything. I have lost confidence in the idea that I could get a job, a full time, little to no anxiety, contribute to our household job. I cannot envision such a thing.

So, I sit with my anxiety and lack of confidence. I sleep until my anxiety and lack of confidence messes with it. I do not adult. I cannot adult.

Dream big, but a little less specific, perhaps

I've been thinking about ending this blog. I can't remember the exact thing I heard, but it was something like blogger are just "throwing up into the abyss", or maybe it was "vomiting into void". Either way, it had be feeling like blogging is a waist of time and kind of a self-important act. There's also the fact that my dream for my blogging was to become something that would amass readers from all over, which I guess fill the self-important part. Anyway, for now, I'm still here.

And on to other matters.

About a year and a half ago, I wrote a post that started out with a girl on "Sister Wives" coming out as gay. I made brief mention about how her mom was struggling with it. One of the things her mom was struggling with was her dream for her daughter. Things like her getting married and picking out dresses for that. Also having grandchildren from her. All of these things can still happen, but in a different way.

Recently, I heard that someone I know, let's call her Susie, has a daughter who now identifies as male. Susie is a progressive liberal who is also a mom. She is struggling with how this is so difficult when she is so liberal. But, she's struggling with what she envisioned for her child and for the difficulties life has in store for her child. She knew what she wanted for her child and this wasn't it.

Then, another person I know was talking about her baby girl. It was about the future and the wedding she will have. And the groom and all the traditional things. She was dreaming big. She dreams big about all the things her baby can and/or will become.

All of this got me thinking. I think it is so easy to fall in love with the life you imagine for your child. I know, I don't have biological kids that I've raised since birth, but I still can observe things. Maybe parents should dial back their dreams for their children. Maybe the dreams should be for hope, love, peace, happiness, strength, and so much more. Happiness doesn't have to be boxed up in a trip to the bridal store to try on dresses for a cis wedding. When you wish that box on your child and your child simply cannot open it for you, happiness, for maybe only a brief moment, doesn't happen. 

One of the greatest moments with my dad was when I apologized for being his greatest disappointment and he told me that I wasn't and that all he ever wants for me, all he ever wants for my siblings, is to be happy.

So, dream happiness, dream love, dream strength, dream peace and allow them to figure out how to manifest those things.