It occurred to me just now

I got lost somewhere. Not that I’ve ever been the epitome of confidence-and-perfection or anything. But whatever confidence I did have, I lost. Not sure where, not sure how, not sure when. Somewhere between high school and college. The resolve levels in my life pretty much bottomed out. It’s weird. I don’t know if I just feel completely incompetent or what, but I am not the same person. I was thinking about how people treat me differently, and frankly, I think it’s because I am different. Even Bruce thinks so. Which freaks me out, because the funny thing about our relationship is that it’s really kind of new… So if he thinks I’m different than when he met me, that’s bad. Somewhere along the way, I lost the gymnast in me, I think. I got… nice. Less focused. Less driven. Less ambitious. As JasonSimon would say; less hardcore. It’s like I stopped training and my body and mind got weaker. Which is scary. I guess the nice part can work for me. But the “less” everything is not. The only thing is, I don’t know what to do. Life is different now. Less straight forward. Infinitely more complicated. Complicated to the point where It frankly paralyzes me. I don’t know what to do right now. I can’t plan anything, much less create a game plan for my life. Thus, no goals. Thus, no drive. Thus, no ambition. See? It’s freaky. There’s no more point a, to point b, to point c and so forth. Now it’s just LIFE. Coming at you, full speed, no rules, no plan, no nada. No mercy. And boy am I lost. Not to mention dazed and confused. I could use an instruction manual. As to “what to do, how to do it, and when to do it.” School was easy. Until I got to college. Which I hated. Now, it’s like, “so what the heck am I supposed to be working on?” or for? or towards? or whatever!!! 

I don’t think people realize how vague “building a life” is. Someone seriously told me that once. My job now is to “build a life with my husband.” Great, so what exactly does that mean? What does it entail? How is that done? Where do you start? I’m so confused, it could kill me. Geez.  I keep thinking that maybe I should go back to school. The only problem with that is, if I get pregnant, I’ll have to drop out. I can’t afford to pay for classes and drop them. Been there and done that. Twice. So I just get pregnant. Which is kind of a project, but not really. Clearly, it’s not really an “occupation.” What the heck else am I supposed to be doing. I’m in the process of applying for medi-cal because I needed a refusal letter for them in order to get a payment plan I can afford from the hospital. So that should kill about… a day. Maybe two. Three if I’m lucky. I also need to finish my Christmas endeavors. Which should also take up about… a day. And frankly, I suppose I should get a job, but I”ve been there and done that twice now, and it never really helps much. We’re never in much better shape when I have a job. Not to mention, I can’t go back to work until I get a doctors note… three weeks from now. And then I might not have a job anymore anyway. And to be honest, I’m pretty sure that when I get pregnant, I’m going to be grounded for oh… 9 months or so. So what’s the point? I guess I could work on building church community, but I’m not really sure how to do that. At Sandals it was easy. You write on the little card “I’d like to get involved” and they call you up the next day at tell you what they need help with. And the name of a small group you should join. And all the people you should go out to lunch with after church next Sunday. And you jump on in. I could’ve lived at Sandals. It apparently doesn’t work that way around here. Trust me; I’ve tried. A few times. 

So I cook. And clean. Which takes up… a couple of hours. I go to the library to get books. Which takes… a couple of hours. I read books, which takes… a couple of hours. 

And now I’m at a loss. What the heck is a married woman without children supposed to be doing??? What are my long term goals? What the heck is my purpose???? AAAAHHHHH!!!!!! The Bible doesn’t talk about married women without children. I doesn’t even talk about unmarried women without children!

I stole this from Kim

Jayne, you’ll appreciate this, but I wouldn’t watch any of his other stuff. He’s not really so kosher… lol

“IMHO”

I am so sick of people’s “humble opinions.” I don’t care what you think of me. I’m so sick of the “you must be a complete idiot” look. Someone seriously had the gall to say, “well, I guess this was God’s way of giving you a second chance to get the rest of your life in order first, you know?” As though Amelia dying was a sign from God that we clearly did not deserve children. And then they went, “you’re not seriously thinking about trying to have another baby, are you?” SERIOUSLY! I almost punched them. I didn’t even respond to the first question, but I guess silence really is telling. I wish people would just mind their own business and let me wreck my own life without their opinions.

When I get pregnant next time, I don’t think I’m gong to tell anyone. Seriously, I think half the people who know me are relieved that I’m not having a baby anymore. It’s so irritating. It’s like, “so, basically, that ‘congratulations’ you gave me 3 months ago was pretty much completely fake, huh?” Thanks. Next time I’m only going to tell perfect strangers and everyone else can figure it out when they get the freaking announcements after the baby is born.

Keep… Breathing.

They cremated Amelia on Wednesday. And we get “her” back this weekend or Monday.

I got just Amelia’s hospital bill on Wednesday… and we’re going to be in debt for a really long time.

Thanksgiving wasn’t really fun. I don’t think I really want to do that again. Bruce was awesome though. He’s kind of getting pretty good at this whole husband deal. I think he’s going to turn out to be pretty spectacular. 

I’m tired. But very happy that it’s Friday, Thanksgiving is over, Christmas music and movies are coming out, and I’m home. Home is a good place.

How Irritating

Two years ago, it felt like I was probably more respected than I am today. A year ago, even. It seems that the more time goes by, the less I feel respected. Which bothers me. I’ve always been well-regarded. Especially considering my status; I’m a young, African-American female, who is not, and never has been considered “upper class.” That in mind, I’ve always had a stellar reputation. A reputation that preceded me, to be frank. And honestly, apparently there was something about me that commanded respect as well. Not to sound snotty or whatever, but I’ve always been treated well. From childhood I’ve always had the good fortuned to be perceived and received with kindness and courtesy that I know many might not experience. Which brings me to now. Something’s different. And for the life of me I can’t figure out what. It feels like a dropped about a million notches “in the sight of God and man.” I’ve probably had more incidents where I’ve been treated with complete rudeness, discourtesy and disrespect in the last year than I have in my twenty years. It’s so confusing, so frustrating and so annoying, frankly, that I could scream. Am I that changed from a year ago? I can think of nothing that would cause such a transformation in my interactions with the rest of society, yet the change is there and ever apparent. I have thought that perhaps I’m just infinitely more self-conscious. But could I be THAT self-conscious? I feel as though a person walking down the street sees me differently. The parents of the children I coach relate to me differently. The children I coach relate to me differently. People who I would consider my superior treat me differently. People talk to me differently , refer to me differently, look at me differently, respond to me differently. You can hear it in their tone of voice, see it in their body language and feel it in their words. I don’t know what it is, but it’s really freaking me out. I don’t know how to change it either. I would do anything to change it. I’ve hardly ever been perceived as anything but mature, well-mannered, cultured, aware, good natured, growing in faith, focused, purposeful, well-thought, intelligent, well-presented, and so-forth. Now, I feel like people see me in exactly the opposite light. Which disturbs me beyond words. I spent a lifetime building a good, strong reputation, and I feel as though somewhere (and Im not sure where), everything I worked for dissolved in an instant. I would say that perhaps I’m wrong to be upset because it’s a matter of pride. But God instructs us to stay in good standing; to present ourselves well before the world. “A good name is better than riches; to be respected is better than gold.” God help me, because I’ve got neither and I’ve no idea whatsoever what happened.

Okay, so I like them too…

Bruce REALLY likes his job. Forget that. Most days, he LOVES his job. Which is cool. I usually think he’s weird for it. But I have to admit that the people at his work ARE pretty cool for the most part (especially the ones he plays baseball with). We went out to dinner with some of them the other night and it was pretty neat and they didn’t treat me like I was a china doll. Which was really, really nice. And I got flowers from his company today. Even though they didn’t know what happened until like, Thursday afternoon. Which was also pretty cool. Especially since they didn’t send pink carnations. They sent gerber daisies. Which was the best. So I guess his work isn’t that bad. Even if he does work lots of random hours.

Just so people stop asking…

Because it weirds me out….

- Yes, Amelia was born alive. I don’t know when her heart stopped beating; they didn’t tell me and I didn’t really want to know. The hospital didn’t really treat her as “born alive” because she wasn’t breathing. 

-No, we are not having a funeral for her. She is being cremated next week and her ashes will be scattered That will be the end.

-No, I’m not keeping the ashes

-No, I don’t feel “sick” or anything. Annoyingly I am lactating, but other than that I’m fine.

-No I don’t “need” anything. Not to be rude or anything, but really, what in the world would I ask you for?

-Yes, Bruce and I are going to try again. Sooner than later. I’m not really interested in going back to a size 3, my period, lots of physical activity, smaller bras and everything else…. for two or three months. Not to mention, it’s probably easier sooner than later.

-Yes, we can have children. Next time, I’ll probably just be on bed rest or “house arrest” for 6-8 months of it. Yes, that’s going to be annoying for all of you. 

I can’t think of anything else. Happy Saturday. I love you. Even you random people who read my blog who I don’t know… lol.

Flowers

I’ve decided that I’m really into flowers. I think I’m going to become one of those women who always has a vase of flowers somewhere. The funny thing is, I don’t really care what kind. Yesterday it occured to me. Pink carnations are Amelia’s; only for November 16. I saw them on Monday, had to have them, and don’t think I can buy them again without being a little sad. Roses (of whatever color Bruce decides he likes that day) are our anniversary roses; I always get them. Gerber daisies and sunflowers are just happy flowers. The kind you go out and buy when you’re having a singing-and-dancing-to-high-school-musical-day. And for all the other days in between, just about any flower will do. People are always asking me what I like. And I never know. So they always buy me gift certificates to Borders or Barnes and Noble. Which is always a fantastic choice. But I decided yesterday; I like books and flowers. But please don’t buy me pink carnations. Unless it’s November 16.

Things I’m Going To Do

1. Start and finish a class; if it kills me

2. Make a Holiday scrapbook/photo album

3. Get at least 10 professional pictures of Bruce and I

4. Read a book every week

5. Cook one new thing every week

6. Be done with all Christmas preparations by 12/14

7. Find an apartment

8. Build a hope chest

9. Create a diet

10. Create an exercise plan

11. Find a volunteer project

12. Figure out an inexpensive way to create wall art

13. Take pictures every day

14. Make a book of “us”

15. Go job hunting again

16. Play FreeRice every day for 15 min

17. 

To be continued…

Amelia Joy Wilson-Knutson

Amelia Joy Wilson-Knutson was born on Sunday, November 16, 2008 at 4:51pm to Bruce and Saidah Knutson. Her heart stopped a few hours later. She was born 9oz and 9 1/4in. She was born at Sharp Mary Birch Women’s Hospital in room 305. She was baby 71555 and she never had a social security number. We love her and miss her beyond measure. She was, is, and will forever be the single most profound moment of our lives. Saidah would have laid in the hospital for 5 more weeks and painted the nursery pink and Bruce would have gladly given up baseball for eternity and let her be a gymnast. We still don’t understand.