text:
There's a wind
inside of me
that remembers.
Sometimes in
sometimes in
(Source: maza-dohta, via theprimroseproject)
As I sit here attempting to gulp down my ascorbic-acid-sweetened electrolyte drink, I feel the need to write this out.
Two weeks ago, I had a breakthrough on my nausea and energy levels. My second trimester came in like a bad latte at 5am; while, not the glorious delicacy I dreamt of, it was, without a doubt, sufficient and well-appreciated. My first trimester was hellish at best. Falling pregnant so quickly after our miscarriage, while I know a lot of people would call it a blessing, for me it was kind of a nightmare. It had been less than four weeks from the loss of AL when I got the positive pregnancy test and I definitely wasn't ready for it.
In the weeks after the loss, I remember feeling a deep need to be pregnant. I felt unfulfilled and unfinished after the miscarriage and really wanted that void to be filled. However, I feel I need to clarify that I didn't want to be pregnant again, I wanted to be pregnant still. I felt, and still feel, like something was stolen that should be there.
I was still in profound mourning when I felt that unmistakable fatigue. I pulled out one of those cheap, purple Walmart pregnancy tests and, there it was - a faint little purple line. I felt everything and nothing all at once. It was like my system completely overloaded and just shut down. I was reading my journal entry from that night…
"I really felt like today was turning out to be a good day. Is it a good day still?"
I waited to accept the test's results as reality until I spoke with a a doctor. Part of me kind of hoped it was just leftover HCG from the previous pregnancy, but I had taken a test since that was negative, so I knew better. Sure enough, the pregnancy was confirmed. Not to mention, the vomiting that started in my 4th week was evidence enough. And it really just got worse. By week 6, I couldn't even hold down water. I had to start a steady diet of Reglan and Pedialyte just to stay remotely hydrated. For three months, I was vomiting, weak, and emotionally exhausted. If I wasn't bawling, I was apathetic at best. Any emotional reserve I had was spent feeling guilty about regretting the pregnancy, or the fact that I couldn't even do a load of laundry without passing out on the floor. I felt like I failed AL, I felt like I was failing my husband and home, and on top of it, I felt like I was failing the kid currently taking up residence in my womb by almost wishing it wasn't even there.
I didn't want a new baby, I wanted our first baby. I wanted AL. I wanted what was to not be and I wanted it desperately. To have a new baby growing inside of me felt blasphemous. It shouldn't be there. AL should be there still. It all felt wrong and sometimes, it still does.
Anyhow, after all that gut-honest confession, I will say this - it has been a process and it *really* is getting better. If you ask me if I'm excited, I'll respond with a very unconvincing, "Yeah. Ya know… yeah." And it's not because I'm not excited, it's just that my excitement is completely intermingled with everything else and most of the time, I'm just trying to eat the bare minimum of my calorie intake for the day because, although the vomiting has reduced significantly, I still have no appetite.
Most mommies I know had wonderful pregnancies. I get slammed with soft, sweet, reminiscent eyes looking upwards to blessed memories and then, with a sigh comes, "I looooved being pregnant!… I can't wait to be pregnant again!… Those were the best months of my life!" And all I can do is roll my eyes secretly wish your child pees in your hair today. We haven't even gotten to take any cute bump pictures because frankly, I don't have one. I have lost at least 10 pounds since the beginning of this pregnancy and am having a LOT of trouble gaining any weight back. I have completely reverted to a 5-year-old's diet on top of it. I only ever want mac-n-cheese, broccoli, carrots, fruit, coffee, and chocolate milk. So, that's weird.
Ryan and I got to go away for the weekend up to the cascades and it really was wonderful. Due to the sickness and fatigue, we have been on maybe one date in the last three months. It was great to just get out into nature and hang out with each other. Spouses take on many roles you never think of when you get married. Of course, they are your friend and your lover, but I never really thought of Ryan being, essentially, my nurse and maid. I never fantasized about him cleaning out my puke bucket at 3am, or forcing me to go on a short walk everyday to keep my strength up (for which I wanted to repay him by puking on his shoes at the time). Pregnancy, if anything, has been extremely sobering as to how reliant I can be, and I think that has been good for me.
Alls to say, I am coming to the place where I am accepting that the next 6 months of my life may just be filled with rest since making a baby has been particularly hard on my body. I always figured I'd be someone who wore pregnancy well, but that is not the case. To you moms who did a half marathon 5 months along - go you. To you pregos who do crossift - kudos. But that does not appear to be my pregnancy journey, as 20 minutes on the eliptical machine pretty much wears me out for the day (or two, let's be honest). I'm usually a pretty "pull up your boot straps" type of person, but most days, I don't even know where they are, nor do I have the motivation to look for them.
So, there is my long way of saying how much I really hate being pregnant. I am excited to have a baby, but being pregnant really sucks. My body feels more foreign everyday and it's a very strange reality - knowing someone the size of an orange has completely taken over all my bodily functions. I have mad acne, my hair is falling out, I have the congestion of a sick pug, and my abdomen feels like a clown car. And in the midst of al this weird awfulness, a life is being nurtured. Ahhh, but that is the weird beauty of it all I suppose.
Thanks for listening. I hope you can't relate to my pregnancy woes, but if you can,
It has been a month since the miscarriage began. I think back to those days in pregnancy limbo - those days when I was racked with anxiety and distress at the awaited verdict of my baby's life. Although the baby is gone, I still feel like I'm there, though - in a place of utter uncertainty.
Ryan has been really worried about me lately. I'm not surprised; I would be too. I think it's appropriate to say that depression has kicked in full-swing. I really thought by now I would be better, but I'm not. Some days it seems worse than ever. Time brings distance to tragedy and usually, that's helpful, but the further I get from the miscarriage, the more I seem to mourn. Maybe it's because I can't stop counting my ghostly weeks (I would have been nearing the end of my first trimester today), or maybe it's because freaking everyone seems to be announcing their healthy pregnancies this month, or maybe it's because I genuinely don't feel pregnant anymore. Whatever the reason, the emotion has left me wanting to hide. I have not wanted to be around anyone lately because I feel so very exposed.
Everyone has been so wonderful this last month. I feel like I have had a uniquely "pleasant" miscarriage experience in regards to people's reactions. I've heard heartbreaking stories from people who were never validated in their loss, faced with people who were insensitive and ignorant. That, thankfully, has not been my experience. I have been met with so many hugs and tears and cards and gifts and flowers and messages and assurances… it's really quite wonderful in context. However, the flip side to that is that, everywhere I go – work, church, get-togethers, Facebook – everyone wants to tell me how sorry they are. Everyone wants to offer comfort. Everyone wants to be salve on my wound. And I am conflicted because that's how it should be and I would likely take offense if that weren't the case but at the same time, it serves as a reminder of everything I already can't forget.
Aside from familiar gatherings, I don't even want to go to the store lately. I feel wobbly when I put on my shoes and sigh as I apply my mascara, wondering how many hours it will last before it mixes with my tears. I wonder and try to prepare for what will trigger me today. Will it be the Costco special on car seats? Or maybe the crisis pregnancy center billboard? Perhaps it will be the friend of mine entering her daughter in the "Cutest Baby" contest on Facebook? Let's not forget about the mother coming into my work with 3 young children – all hers – and, just as an added bonus, a 7-month fully pregnant belly. Oh, and our adoption was just confirmed. Shoot me.
I feel like cotton candy in Seattle.
Friday, Ryan and I went out on a proper date for the first time in weeks. I had been eyeing my burgundy mary-janes all week and, for the first time in a long time, I was excited to dress up and go out. We arrived at the restaurant and were told there would be a fifteen-minute wait. That's fine. Ryan grabbed our buzzer and we sat down in the waiting area smiling and flirtatious. I see a young couple across from us, also dressed up and holding hands. That's nice, I thought. It was just a few minutes before her coat fell open and I could see her supple bulging belly. And in less than a moment, my heart hit the floor and I was trying not to hyperventilate there in the waiting area. When we were seated, I chose the north-side seat so as not to be facing the 1 year-old our table was diagonal from. The whole night just felt like a hammering – not on a nail – more like a mirror. But one that was already shattered and lying on the floor. That kind of hammering.
Sunday, Ryan's brother and cousin invited us out to shoot some pool and have some beers. Sounded safe enough – likely no pregnant women or children to encounter at a bar. So we went and the first thing that happened after greetings was,
"Oh, hey Camlyn. Someone wanted me to give you this since you weren't at church this morning."
A card and banana bread.
How sweet.
I skipped church to avoid consolation gifts.
Then we went about non-miscarriage related business. At one point I stepped out to take a call and found myself facing this:
At that point I was done.
I am just done fighting against the tide.
I am just so done fighting the urge - the need - to mourn. Done pretending like a month is enough time to be well. It's not. I'm not.
If you are reading this and you are pregnant, or have healthy children, or have been one of the blessed people to offer me comfort in this terrible place, please don't take this post as one of condemnation or ungratefulness because it really isn't. I'm just confused and conflicted. I don't understand how to live side-by-side with people who are having joyful motherhoods because motherhood has only brought me deep sorrow. When I count up all my lifetime tragedies, combined, they still feel miniscule in comparison to this. I have truly never felt so utterly broken in all my life.
How are the mothers of dead children supposed to walk side by side with the mothers of the living? How are we supposed to do it? One cannot soothe the other. One is steeped in misfortune and grief while the other expects.
I have never understood the term "expecting" like I have in the last month. It's the most appropriate; it really is. A pregnant mother expects a child. A fair expectation, really. While we may worry about miscarriage or complications, we don't expect them. Our bodies and souls prepare for, long for, and expect a baby. The digestive system slows down to feed them. The blood increases to host them. The organs stretch and maneuver for them. All things in expectance.
In a miscarriage, though, the mother expects, while the body expels. The mother expects while the heart grieves. The mother expects while the mind looks for answers to the question that is met only with bitter silence…
Where is my child?
I'm not pregnant anymore, but I'm still expecting.
I really hate being around people right now.
Everyone knows
Everyone asks
"How are you feeling?"
I say,
It's been hard
Some days are better than others
What I don't say is,
Most days
I feel like throwing myself off a cliff
And I know I'm depressed
Because that seems like way too much effort
Most days
Are full of awful reminders
When I see the "What to Expect" book
When I take my multivitamin
When I put my pants on that were too uncomfortable to wear a month ago
When I choice normal espresso instead of decaf
When I drink a beer
When I order sushi
When I see the old prescription bottle in the trash
When I pass the spare bedroom
That was meant to be baby's
Most days
Are filled with conflicted, confusing, terrifying thoughts
What if I get pregnant again?
What if I don't?
Most days
I don't eat until I'm feeling faint
Most days
I cry
And my heart feels like it will pound right out of my chest
Most days
I see children
And they make me want to scream
Some days
Really are better than most
Some days
I'm surprised at the sound of my own laughter
Some days
I don't feel bitter
Or angry
Some days
I think joyfully of being pregnant again
Some days
I can be distracted
Some days
I really do trust God's timing
His purposes
His ways
Though I do not understand
Today is like most days, though
And I don't trust in much today
Aside from inevitable tragedy
My rain boots
And the fact that the heat will kick on when I'm hot with emotion
Like most days
I feel cheated
And mocked
And offended
And sad
And defeated
And utterly
"From where I sit now, I find that often times when I pray for peace what I want is relief; and these are not necessarily the same… I think this is what it looks like to choose to treat the places of grief as sacred and pain as holy – to call God good even in the midst of the mess."
I really miss being on Vicodin. They gave it to me when my miscarriage was confirmed to help with the associated pain. There was something so wonderful about the way it numbed by body and mind out. I really hope to be in a place someday where I can look back at all this and be grateful but right now I just want to forget everything so badly…
It was my first day back at work today and there was a customer who came in with a beautiful 6-month old girl. She had eyes like mine and hair like Ryan's and I was jolted back to those conversations we had when I was still pregnant.
"I wonder what she'll look like." I said, convinced the baby was a girl.
"I hope she looks like you; curly hair and bright blue eyes."
"I just would hate for her to have my nose."
"Shut up. Your nose is beautiful."
I hadn't thought about it since the loss but after seeing that baby girl today, all I can think about was what our baby would have looked like.
I have pretty much avoided babies like the plague since the miscarriage. I have merely skimmed over the Facebook posts of baby pictures and anecdotes regarding, "you wouldn't believe what Sam said today" and "Roland just can't get enough of that stupid thing the dog does in the backyard". Every once in a while I'll stop the scroll and just linger, one foot in sorrow and the other in envy, not wondering much but feeling everything… but usually I don't. Unfortunately, babies can't be avoided at work.
When I saw them come in, I immediately felt like running, but accepted that I (probably) wouldn't and greeted them instead. I was surprised at how okay I actually felt. I avoided eye contact with the baby girl at first but who the hell can keep that up? So I looked at those big blue eyes and told her "hello!" And you know that thing that babies do where they smile really big with their eyes first and then the rest of their face follows? That happened. Then I waved at her and she did this dumb little mock wave back with her fist that looked more like a Black Power statement than a greeting and Oh… how precious it was. Really, really was. And again, I was surprised at how ok I felt. Here I was, enjoying this baby's presence without crumbling into a heap like I've been doing for the last two weeks and I was truly, truly happy to just interact with her. No envy or sorrow. Just joy.
But then, they left. And for this split second I had this intense twinge of regret that I hadn't asked to hold her. Not that asking a stranger to hold their baby would have necessarily been appropriate, considering I was working and they were strangers, or that it would have been a wise thing to do, considering my current state, but, God… I felt it. I felt it so hard.
It suddenly hit me that I never got to hold my baby.
To tell the truth, there wasn't really much baby to hold. During a first trimester miscarriage, some women pass an obvious embryo and some just pass indiscernible tissue. From what I understand, this is because some babies remain in the gestation sac, whereas others don't and they're fragile frames break down in the process. The result of the latter is the passing of tissue masses that don't resemble much. My case was as such. If there was an embryo, I never saw one. I wanted to, though. I don't know why it mattered so much to me, but any time I passed a substantial clot I fished it out of the toilet and searched the bloody mass for the incomplete child I would never know. I really didn't know why it mattered so much to me at the time but today I realized that it was because, even if I knew our baby was dead, I still wanted to hold them.
I can't even explain what happened today in that moment when that baby left the store. I don't know if it's because this was my first pregnancy or if it's something all moms who lose their children feel but I just feel so strongly the urge to hold a child. But even if I do, I know they won't be mine. That kills me all the more – to have this insanely strong desire to act in some way knowing that it is completely futile.
One of my favorite passages in the Bible comes from the first chapter of Ruth:
19 So the two women went on until they came to Bethlehem. When they arrived in Bethlehem, the whole town was stirred because of them, and the women exclaimed, "Can this be Naomi?"
20 "Don't call me Naomi," she told them. "Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. 21 I went away full, but the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The Lord has afflicted me; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me."
Naomi had lost both her sons and her husband in Moab. We don't know how they died – if it was a military death, an illness, a genetic problem; we only know that they died, and that's really all that matters in the story. In response to losing her loved ones, Naomi traveled back to her home town of Bethlehem accompanied, by choice, by one of her daughters-in-law, Ruth. When she arrives in her home town, we get the impression that people recognize her.
"Can this be Naomi?"
In response to their request for confirmation, she responds in a non-committal way.
"Don't call me Naomi…"
She confirms that she is indeed who they think she is but fiercely points out that, at the same time, she is not who they remember; she has changed.
"Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter."
I used to think this response was awful and an expression of a lack of faith. Like, "WOW, Naomi. That's pretty dramatic of you. Way to toss your faith in the trash" but as I've read over this story again and again I have grown an amazing appreciation for Naomi and her faith in particular. Naomi is not denying God in any way, not really even denying her faith in his goodness. In fact, she has returned to Judah because she heard of God's provision there. In a place of deep sorrow and confusion, Naomi caught wind of God's presence and desperately sought to be there. This is not a lack of faith, but an honest one. She is simply saying, "God is God and I am his creation. He can do what he wants with me and I am bitter because of it. I am empty when I once was full. I had a husband, a new home, two sons who married two women; my family and my home were growing. And then my husband died. And then my sons died. I am emptied out. My life has become bitter."
The name "Mara" comes from "maror" which means "bitter". If you've ever attended a Passover dinner, you might recall eating the bitter herbs. It is always fun for those who have attended before to watch the newbies because horseradish is what is most often used to express the symbol and no one is ever ready for just HOW bitter it tastes. You'll see someone scoop on a heaping gob of the stuff, bow their head in blessing, and eat the tainted cracker unknowing that everyone at the table has their cameras ready for the face they're about to make. And everyone laughs. And it's all in good fun. Of course, life's bitterness is not warranting of laughter, but it's odd how similar the process is. We all know life has its hardships. We all know sorrows and joys fluctuate. We all know the bitter herbs are bitter; no one hides their title and yet, we are always surprised at how they attack our senses.
The main thing about bitterness is that no enters into it willingly. When I think of bitter, I think of poorly made coffee, or my dill sauce that didn't turn out right, or too much nutmeg in my pumpkin bread. It is always in regards to taste and furthermore, something that doesn't taste like it should; and unexpected unpleasantness; an error in the process; too much or too little; an imbalance. Naomi didn't feel like she had a balance in life; too much misfortune, sadness, and loss. So much so that she does not feel like herself. After all, 'Naomi' means 'pleasant', and she was not. In a beautifully heartbreaking statement, she states boldly, "Don't call me what you once did, for that is no longer my identity. Call me 'Bitter', for life, though once sweet, has turned. My bread is now staled, my milk has soured, and my coffee is Folgers. Because of this, I am no longer who I was. I lost my husband and my sons – all my pieces of me and now, I am empty. Do not call me 'Pleasant'. Call me 'Bitter' instead".
After having lost my own child, I appreciate Naomi's life testimony all the more. I have always wanted to be a mom and I always thought pregnancy would bring me joys abundant. Instead, I miscarried. Rather than thumbing through the progressive chapters of my "What to Expect…" pregnancy manual, I only read 2 and then skipped to the last- the one reserved for the 25% that undergo "Pregnancy Complications". Instead of joining the mom forums to talk about my morning sickness and symptoms, I joined the miscarriage forums. Instead of buying maternity clothes, I bought more pads. Rather than taking home my first sonogram picture to put on the fridge, I came home with a Vicodin prescription. And now, I feel so much affinity with Naomi because I feel like I lost so much of myself in the miscarriage. I had accepted this entirely new and exciting role as a mother but have no one to be a mother to. I still have pregnancy symptoms, but instead of reminders that I'm growing a life, they are reminders that I have lost one. I don't know where I fit in now.
So, don't call me "Camlyn". Call me "bitter", because my pregnancy did not go how I expected - because I now have taste in my mouth I can't shake at the moment. Call me "confusion", because my identity has come into question. Call me "less" because I was once more. Call me "desperate" because my longing can't be sated. Don't treat me like you always have because tragedy has changed me.
Maybe, don't call me anything just yet.
"Both babies may have died at the same gestation — one by choice, the other by chance. But the value attached to each child completely depended on how that child died."
"What about the Pie Bar?" I asked Ryan, inquiring about Valentine's Day dinner options.
"What's that?"
"They have all sorts of pies; meat pies, fruit pies and, of course, pie-inspired cocktails."
"You can't drink those!"
"I know! You can, though. And I can have a sip."
It was to be our first Valentine's Day as a married couple and, as an added joy, we had recently found out I was pregnant. About 6 weeks, we thought. We were both handling it differently; I was trying to get over the hill of the belief that there was a life growing inside of me that I couldn't see and Ryan was combating my mood swings and red meat cravings with burger runs and soothing words and caresses. We were excited, though. We wanted this.
It had been a whirlwind since we arrived in Seattle. Between transplanting our lives and losing Ryan's grandfather, we hadn't had a lot of time to settle and find our footing. We hadn't even really had much one-on-one time to just be with each other and then, add in some first trimester nausea and fatigue, and it felt like we were swimming upstream to find time to just be in the other's presence. Alls to say, we wanted this Valentine's Day to be a special one. After all, it would be the last one we spent on our own; just us.
Our first appointment with the midwife was scheduled for Thursday the 13th, but it was moved to Tuesday when I saw the blood on the toilet paper Monday night.
"You're gestation sac is measuring 5 weeks and 6 days, so not hearing a heartbeat is perfectly normal for being this early. Don't think the worst just yet."
"No period-like bleeding?"
"About 1 in 4 women have random bleeding throughout their pregnancies. You and your baby might be just fine. It's just too soon to tell."
I knew the statistics. I'd studied the baby books. I'd read the forums. Hundreds of women frightened for their unborn's fate… about half returning to type out the joyful relief they felt when they saw the heartbeat the next week… and about half returning with shorter sentences – "We lost the baby… Thank you for the support… I'm just so sad… It was a miscarriage." 1 in 4 women do go on to bleed without known cause throughout their pregnancies, but 1 in 4 women also go on to miscarry, and I knew it.
I knew what came next; blood test. Urinalysis. Tell me your symptoms again? Still no cramping? Pelvic exam. Cervix looks healthy. We want to rule out infection. No fever? Lower back pain? Come back on Thursday and we'll draw your blood again to compare levels. Try not to worry.
Two days of utter hell. Every twinge I felt, anything my body did was a potential sign that Ryan and I would not be parents in September. Every time I went to the bathroom, expecting fully but hoping against more blood on the toilet paper. The nausea became undeniably worse – a good sign they said; it means hormone levels are still high. Everything could be just fine. Tuesday… Wednesday… Thursday, finally. Finally, the day that would give me permission to either rejoice or grieve. My symptoms were not worse, but exactly the same. My nausea was still awful, my heart rate still elevated, the blood was still there- still light in quantity and fluctuating in frequency. Everything could still be fine. My blood could not be drawn again until after noon, so I went to work early. Starting my last day of waiting, hopeful to be distracted by the smell of cookies, the warmth of the bread oven, the kindness of my coworkers, the normalcy and routine that would make Thursday seem like any other Thursday.
And like any other Thursday, one of our patrons came in for his morning hot chocolate. He asked how I was.
"I am well, and you?"
"Well it's a beautiful day. Paul says in Corinthians that God's grace is sufficient and in our weakness, He is strong."
The tears came so fast I couldn't hide them. Through poorly-disguised sobs, I explained that I might be in the process of miscarrying. He walked behind the counter to embrace me.
"That's a hard thing to walk through. My wife and I did once. You'll be in our prayers and remember, God is good, even in this."
"It is so hard to trust him here."
"I know."
I was too scared to use the bathroom at work as I wasn't eager to find out that I was losing my baby and the mild cramping that started the last hour of my shift suggested the inevitable. So when I came home to use the bathroom before heading to the clinic, the increased amount of blood in the toilet did not shock me the way it had Monday night.
I called my midwife to see if the blood test was still necessary, since I was now sure I was miscarrying. No, it wasn't, although until I had severe cramping or passed the embryo, she said there was still hope things would be fine. She walked me through what would happen if I was miscarrying and said I would probably know within a day.
And I did.
Ryan brought me roses that night. We both took the next day off of work. I slept with the heating pad on high, held to my increasingly painful abdomen.
"I just wish it was over."
I awoke on Valentine's Day to a pain in my body I had never felt before. Along with the period-like cramps I had been having all night, every few minutes it felt like someone reached into my insides and wrung them like a wet cloth. Contractions. My uterus was "evacuating"; expelling the conception tissue, gestational sac, placenta, and embryo from within its protective walls. And it made sure I knew it. Hours of this until I was doubled over on the bed, vomiting from the pain. I knew this was normal and nothing out of the ordinary for a miscarriage, but Ryan grew more and more worried every time I cried out from my body's mock labor and, after a phone call to the midwife, he helped me to the car and drove me to the clinic.
"I just wish it was over."
We arrived at the clinic and, no sooner than when we walked through the door, I was ironically fetal-positioned on the floor in more pain than I have ever known in my life. Once the contraction passed, I was helped to an examination room. They had already called in a prescription for pain and nausea medications they eventually administered to me. The contractions became more frequent and longer-lasting as I curled up on the examination table trying to remember to breathe while Ryan, teary-eyed, held my hand. The midwife offered to do a pelvic exam to see if there was any lodged tissue she could remove.
"Yes. Please. I just want this to be over. "
Within moments, the contractions stopped and she showed me the placental tissue she removed from my cervix.
"Is it over?"
"No, but that should be the worst of it."
We arrived home in a conflicting mixture of gratitude and sadness; gratitude for the lessening of the pains, and sadness for the confirmation of our loss. A baby we made but never knew; a life that was never lived, for either of us – a life where Ryan and I were parents and a life where our child was born.
The next few days blurred together and likewise, so did my emotions.
Offense – that God intentionally put me through this
Disappointment – in myself that I felt so entitled to a healthy pregnancy
Relief – that we finally had permission to grieve
Sorrow – enough to make me really understand the meaning of the word
Hopelessness – at our dreams of being parents
Guilt – for feeling so hopeless
Gratitude – because, despite the horrors, I knew it could have been much worse
I felt as though I could actually die from sadness.
And every time I went to the bathroom and saw the blood in the toilet, or passed more tissue, or felt another cramp, or saw my breasts returning to their small size and virgin color as the pregnancy hormones wept from my no longer expectant body… the same question found itself falling from my lips, "When will it be over?"
There is no mercy in miscarriage for the mother. When you know you are carrying a life, nothing is ever the same. Every meal, every exercise, every shower; every seemingly normal routine activity has another purpose and new rules. Being a mother, no matter how long you've been one, is a completely different role with completely life-changing stipulations. To accept that, to welcome that and then to lose it in a moment is awful. To see the remains of what was your child, to feel your body expel them impartially is no less than traumatic. Of the many, many articles and forums I've poured over regarding miscarriage, a piece from 'The Miscarriage Dilemma' hit the nail on the head: "Miscarriage is enigmatic. Even though it can feel like a death, there is nothing tangible to mourn."
No, there is no mercy for the mother, but all the mercy for the child and from my short time spent as a mother, I know that's the whole point. I know that miscarriage is merciful. I know it means that the pregnancy wasn't healthy. I know that child will never have to experience the sorrows of this life. And through all the trauma and pain and tears, I know that is the only thing left to accept; that part of being a mother is letting go. I know I gave my baby a home inside my body and my heart, that I did everything in my power to keep it safe and healthy. I know, without a doubt, that if love, alone, could have kept our baby alive, that he or she would have lived forever.
It's Thursday again. Ryan's roses are starting to brown and so is the bleeding; a sign that the bodily process is finally over; a sign that healing can begin.
Our move from Phoenix to Seattle bleeds with analogy; desolation to saturation.
Even the rocks grow foliage.
Ryan and I have been (slowly) settling into our current home here in Washington for the last month now. Arriving the week of Thanksgiving brought a whirlwind of distraction to divert us from our relatively normal routine and, with both of us starting new jobs as well, it has been a stormy sail into the New Year.
When Ryan's family caught wind of our desire to move back to the Northwest, his grandparents offered up their basement to us. It has been an incredibly symbiotic arrangement; they are in their 90's and need help with various things around their home, and we get to live for free, which allows us a *huge* upper hand in getting our debt paid off and stockpiling our savings. God could not have brought us here at a more perfect time, either.
A few days before we arrived, Ryan's grandpa started having bouts of nausea. At 92 this was not an oddity but, despite tests and a handful of doctor visits, he continued to feel unwell. After a minor episode of tachacardia, he and the doctors decided the nursing home would be the next best move. Within a few days, his heart was back to running at 100% and he said he was feeling much better. We all spent a portion of Christmas day in the nursing home with him and he and his wife celebrated their 69th wedding anniversary on the 27th. The following Monday, he started having an incessant cough that was interfering with is sleep. Grandma spent most of the day with him and, as she was rubbing his hand, he woke up and said, "goodbye" and fell back to sleep. The next day, the nurse gave him a breathing treatment and, perking up, he said, "I feel much better. I think I can rest now." And just as the past year left us, so did he; in an exhale; a blink; a moment.
A life is much like a caress; a touch, a connection, a momentary pressure, and then, gone. The only evidence being the fallen strand of hair and the lack only you can attest to. We question death the way we question all ends, "are they really gone?" And of course they are, but not really. You still feel as though the guest will crush the ghost that sits on the middle cushion of the couch… their finger prints still mark the Ipad; bearing the virtual buttons linked to the movies, photographs, and Facetime conversations that brought them joy. The workshop still strewn with tools of creation. The look on Grandma's face just after a laugh brought on from a random anecdote of her lover. How can someone who's not there make you laugh so? Perhaps we are born phantoms that merely hide behind skin until we're ready to emerge.
I feel such a strange mix of emotion being here in the midst of such an occasion; grieving with this family that is mine but not mine. I am an honored intruder.
Death has never taken someone close to me. I lost my father's parents over the course of my pre-adolescent childhood, but the weight of such things was never really felt by my freckled, bony shoulders. In addition, my family gatherings tended to consist of my parent's preceding and subsequent relational breakdowns. Familial closeness was more comparable to walking through a thorn bush than a hug; move slowly to avoid deep injury and if possible, just sit down and stay still. Ryan's family is not like that. Ryan's family is one, giant embrace. Grandpa died on New Year's Eve and the house has not since been vacant. Smiling faces, bearing arms filled with crockpots and deep dishes, veggie platters and top-shelf beers. Boggle, Scrabble, Nerts, storytelling. Google-earth tours of Grandpa's hometown. Here's the box he made. Oh, that? That was his favorite book! Do you remember the time he painted the house? Here's the card I wrote him when I was 12! I never knew he kept these…
Desolation to saturation. Desert to seaside. Cacti to fungi. Dust storms to air, damp with water droplets; the kind that never soak you but always make sure to leave your shoelaces wet. And for me, what feels akin to an orphan in an adoptive home; the honored intruder; gratefully uncomfortable and never quite wet.
I've tried to write about what a blessing Ryan and his family have been to me many times, but never really can put words to it… there really are none to do the thing justice. And you could never really know how wonderful my husband is unless you were as selfish and self-centered as me and married to him. There is nothing to compare, no analogy or symbolic phrase that could express how a heart like mine feels cradled in his hands. But… desolation to saturation might whisper a sentiment to the beauty of the thing. And this might wink at you from the heart of the matter:
"When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish things behind me."


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"""Veteran character actor, comedian Blake Clark and former golf pro and radio host John Hodge pair together to bring this hilarious look at the game of golf. You'll laugh non-stop at this inventive and unique viewpoint on one of the world's favorite sports. Illustrations by Peter W. Campbell."""
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subset: commoncrawl


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In several cities in eastern Ukraine, following the February 21, 2014 ousting of President Viktor Yanukovich, violence sporadically raged between pro- and anti-Kiev crowds. By mid-March, in several cities, particularly Donetsk and Luhansk, armed groups, initially calling themselves "self-defense units," seized and occupied administrative buildings. Their demands ranged from making Ukraine a federation, to separation of their regions from the rest of Ukraine, to joining Russia.
On July 2, 2013, Hissène Habré was charged with crimes against humanity, torture and war crimes and placed in pre-trial detention by the "Extraordinary African Chambers" in the courts of Senegal. The Chambers were inaugurated in February 2013 to prosecute the "person or persons" most responsible for international crimes committed in Chad between 1982 and 1990. The Chambers' investigating judges are now carrying out their investigation and, if they hold Habré over for trial, the trial is expected to begin in the first half of 2015.
Habré has been living in exile in Senegal since he was overthrown in 1990. He was also wanted by Belgium on charges of genocide, crimes against humanity, war crimes, and torture.
The following questions and answers provide more information on the case and what lies ahead.


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These Happy Herbivore Carrot Cake Cupcakes were so good, my 3-year-old niece devoured them! Next time, I'm taking these to work and telling no one they're actually good for you.
oh my god. looks like ill be baking tonight. :}
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Following news that Kim Deal left the Pixies, it seems the band is ready to move forward with new music. This morning saw the release of a new song called "Bagboy" as well as an accompanying video (which you can watch here) directed by Lamar + Nik. "Bagboy" was recorded last October and apparently does […]


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TMZ has revealed that Ken Shamrock is now a bodyguard, and the former UFC champion was spotted at an event in Las Vegas protecting 50 Cent. Shamrock is actually working for an agency and is not currently working full time for the rapper.
While many are under the impression that the bridge has been burnt between the two sides, Jay Lethal recently revealed on Twitter that he was very much willing to return to TNA if the money and the situation was right. No word yet on whether or not the company is interested.
Despite being just 28 years of age and being viewed as one of the better performers on the independent wrestling circuit, there has been very little interest in WWE of bringing former TNA star Jay Lethal on board. He will more than likely stick with ROH for the time being.


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This movie was good.
This movie was good.
The Devil and Daniel Johnston
You don't have to like or know his music to like this documentary, but it helps if you're open minded when it comes to music, etc. Even if you hate his music, I still think you can enjoy this film.
Just got back from watching Smokin' Aces. Lotsa blood, some funny moments. Jeremy Piven played one hell of a coke fiend.
His nepotism concerns me, as well. His brother Jonathan shares writing credit on The Prestige, which I enjoyed greatly. But, a Batman movie is something else. I don't know the guy's background, but not using Goyer could be a mistake. (Yeah, yeah, I know DG's writing gigs are locked until 2020, but this is how **** get's ****ed up.)
Last edited by Unfiltered; January 29th, 2007 at 09:19 PM.
It was good, but I expected better. The twist ending sucked.


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Welcome Back, Leos!
Students arrived on the University of La Verne campus Monday toting backpacks and hot coffee, some still sleepy-eyed from months of summer relaxation and others raring to go for the first day of t...
Online Edition
More than 150 of 300 cultural exchange students from South America, participating in the University of La Verne's Executive Management Certificate Program, attended a World Cup Party hosted by the university, and shared the agony of the 7-1 defeat.
A lifelong love affair with the magic of the silver screen has led Scott Essman to
La Verne, where he provides his students with expert insight about filmmaking.
Biology professor Jerome Garcia teaches his students that, like anything worthwhile, science takes time.
Mike Brown and his wife, Nancy, have literally helped build a new university with their generosity.
Stan Skipworth has been on the job for less than a year, but has already made quite an impact on the University as Director of Campus Safety and Transportation.
Bobby Ruiz '08 visits La Verne to share his experiences as an athletic trainer in the Cleveland Indians organization with Athletic Training Education Program students.
The University of La Verne joins the Billion Dollar Green Challenge and will Invest in Sustainability.
After amyotrophic lateral sclerosis claimed her father, University of La Verne graduate student Marcella Marquez walks to make a difference in beating the rare disease.
University of La Verne football team members donate great lengths of their hair to Locks Of Love charity, which creates prosthetic hairpieces for children.
The University of La Verne's second annual LEAD Conference sends a clear message to those in attendance: Follow Your Dreams!


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Cleveland Browns Linebacker Karlos Dansby Cleans Up Nice
Grooming While Peyton sells cars and Aaron sells insurance, a big man is setting out to make and sell body wash.
Cleveland Browns ILB Karlos Dansby named top-10 in the NFL
Typically speaking, sports fans tend to worry about two things – the past and the future. They'll debate who was the greatest player of all-time, while also spending hours discussing whether or not a rookie is going to be develop into an All-Pro. Both are fun exercises, things that keep fans engaged and the beer flowing at the local tavern. But they miss out on what is most important...
Via cover32 - Browns
June 23, 2014 | Discuss
Dansby signed with Browns because 'money was sweet'
Karlos Dansby isn't one to mince words. The veteran linebacker, who once predicted he would end up in the Hall of Fame, is an open book in interviews, regularly spawning headline-quality sound bites. Friday's appearance on SiriusXM NFL Radio was no different. Dansby touched on a variety of topics with hosts Takeo Spikes and Alex Marvez, including why he signed with the...
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June 14, 2014 | Discuss
Quotable Monday: Karlos Dansby doesn't see a weakness in Cleveland
Karlos Dansby has been on good teams (his Arizona Cardinals went to Super Bowl XLIII) and on some bad teams as well. He would be better suited than most on the current Cleveland Browns roster to determine what kind of a team we have for 2014. And his take on it is surprisingly optimistic: "I can see what everyone else can't see." He said regarding the 2014 Browns, "This...
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June 09, 2014 | Discuss
Mailbag: has Cleveland really improved during free agency?
Most people love that we got Dansby instead of Jackson and Whitner instead of Ward. But some people say it's a wash…who's right here? - Steve in Houston First off Steve, I want to forewarn you that I personally am in the latter group…that said, I'm going to take a step back and try to be objective about this. Karlos Dansby has played 10 years, and in those 10 years has...
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March 19, 2014 | Discuss
Report: Cardinals have offered Karlos Dansby multi-year deal
Mike Jurecki of XTRA 910 Phoenix reports that the Arizona Cardinals have given free agent-to-be linebacker Karlos Dansby a multi-year offer. Hearing the Cardinals have already made an offer to Karlos Dansby on a multi-year deal. Free agency starts March 11. — Mike Jurecki (@mikejurecki) February 21, 2014 Cardinals general manager Steve Keim told reporters on Thursday that...
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February 21, 2014 | Discuss
Karlos Dansby won't be tagged
The Arizona Cardinals have decisions to make when it comes to personnel but one of them won't involve Karlos Dansby. The linebacker will not be given the franchise tag by the Cardinals. According to Pro Football Talk.com since Dansby has been tagged twice with the franchise tag, hitting him with it a third time would jack his salary sky-high. Like quarterback high. Like $14 million...
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February 17, 2014 | Discuss
Karlos Dansby impressive so far with Cardinals
Newly signed inside linebacker Karlos Dansby's one-year contract is worth $2.25 million this coming season. The 31-year-old Auburn University product received a $1 million signing bonus and his base salary is $1.25 million, per azcentral.com. Dansby is on his second go round with the Red Birds. He spent the 2004-09 seasons with Arizona before signing as a free agent with the Miami...
Via The Sports Blitz
May 27, 2013 | Discuss
Arizona Cardinals bring back Karlos Dansby
The Arizona Cardinals front office stated on Friday that 'you can always come back home.' The team announced a one-year deal with inside linebacker Karlos Dansby who spent his first six NFL seasons in Arizona red. Please click here to read this story/watch this video. The post Arizona Cardinals bring back Karlos Dansby appeared first on Players View.
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May 10, 2013 | Discuss
Dansby: I'm the best, with one arm
Dolphins linebacker Karlos Dansby has been playing through a torn bicep muscle for three weeks, but he says it hasn't slowed him down a bit.
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November 16, 2012 | Discuss
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Every coach, regardless of formal education, practices some form of sports psychology with their athletes. One of the most commonly discussed areas on the pool deck is mental toughness. Nearly every swimmer takes pride in their own toughness for putting in big hours (often at obscenely early times) in a sport entirely unnatural to human beings. Mental toughness is deemed so important in swimming that the ASCA recently polled 110 coaches at all levels for their definitions of mental toughness. Here is a sample of answers from that survey, keeping in mind that many other answers echoed the sentiments in those below (2012):
- The ability to overcome doubt, fear, pain, and distractions to achieve optimal performance.
- Dealing with success and failure equally.
- Doing the right thing when it the right thing is tough to do.
- Having the ability to deal with pain (muscle fatigue) in important practice and competition situations.
Our task in this article is to examine the science on whether mental toughness is a trainable quality. To know if toughness can be improved, we first need a baseline. Unfortunately, a measurable baseline of mental toughness is elusive, though modern research has looked at physiological stress markers for an idea. Although coping skills, visualization, and resilience and other psychological traits are all recognized in the literature, toughness is a broad term and takes many different forms.
Dr. Rushall offers a four pronged test to determine whether mental toughness is a valid metric. (Rushall 2013)
- Quantifiable. "I know mental toughness when I see it" fails to satisfy this prong. Physiological stress markers are one way to assess toughness, but are imperfect measures.
- Manipulable. In comparing two groups experimentally, they must operate at different percentages of baseline to compare results. For example, VO2 max is a common physiology marker because you can compare two groups operating at different percentages of a maximum output. Mental toughness has flaws as a manipulable metric due to lack of baseline quantification.
- Inter-rater reliability. Are two people looking at the same thing? As we saw with the survey, definitions of mental toughness vary greatly. There are no wrong answers, but there is a clear lack of uniformity.
- Intra-rater reliability. Does your own assessment of mental toughness remain consistent?
Collins (2012) offers a recent commentary suggesting that mental toughness is indeed trainable, noting "intermittent exposure, followed by periods of adjustment before more challenge, results in a differential hormonal response to stress characterized by a more solution-focused perception." This explanation also accounts for the possibility of burnout as overexposure to any stressor would seem to have negative effects. This same article cites evidence for causation in educational and non-athletic settings, but formal study in competitive sport is limited.
When explanations are elusive we often fall prey to confirmation bias. If we lack a tangible explanation of how similar athletes can have different performances, mental toughness seems a convenient explanation, especially if we have long believed that mental toughness is responsible for effective results. "[R]esearch which has assumed that elite and super elite athletes are mentally tough with no objective measures sets a dangerous precedent" (Crust 2008).
Ultimately, it's important to distinguish between the mental stressors inherent in high level sport with stressors added for the sole purpose of developing mental toughness. The inherent stressors are unavoidable, but it is imperative that we continue seeking a justifiable definition of "toughness" rather than assuming that those who survive toughness training have actually benefited from the experience.
Toughness differences undoubtedly exist, despite the difficulties in defining and measuring toughness. The real challenge is figuring out whether mental toughness is an accurate explanation for observed phenomena.
The next question is whether toughness can be improved in the ways we believe it can. High level athletes demonstrate certain psychological qualities, but thus far the evidence is unclear on whether the toughness component is trainable.
Toughness differences undoubtedly exist, despite the difficulties in defining and measuring toughness. The real challenge is figuring out whether mental toughness is an accurate explanation for observed phenomena.
The next question is whether toughness can be improved in the ways we believe it can. High level athletes demonstrate certain psychological qualities, but thus far the evidence is unclear on whether the toughness component is trainable.
The purpose of this post was not to answer those questions but instead to challenge us to question our assumptions on the role of mental toughness training. The mental side has a profound role in performance but it our responsibility to make sure it is employed appropriately with the right level of emphasis: no more and no less.
- Collins D, MacNamara A. The rocky road to the top: why talent needs trauma. Sports Med. 2012 Nov 1;42(11):907-14. doi: 10.2165/11635140-000000000-00000.
- Crust, L. A review and conceptual re-examination of the literature of mental toughness Personality and Individual Differences 45 (2008) 576–583
- American Swimming. Issue 5, 2012.
- Dr. Brent Rushall, personal correspondence, 2013.
By Allan Phillips. Allan and his wife Katherine are heavily involved in the strength and conditioning community, for more information refer to Pike Athletics.


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Access "Innovating carefully"
This article is part of the Vol. 1 No. 7 September 2002 issue of Managing data storage for remote employees
We've been doing a lot of research on where storage managers are placing their bets next year. With so many people facing tough economic straits, you might think lottery tickets would be a hot item. But seriously, lean times aren't usually devoted to experimenting with brand new technology. Will 2003 be the year storage managers just say no to innovation? I don't think so. What's becoming clearer is that new technologies will have to meet a demanding test: Can they solve a pressing problem now? Style points won't be awarded. Nowhere is that clearer than in the contrast between two technologies that are currently hitting the market, InfiniBand (IB) and IP storage. Cisco's unveiling of its IP/Fibre Channel (FC) switches means that iSCSI finally has a big-league champion in the market. But that would be only mildly interesting if it weren't for the fact that our surveys consistently say you're more interested in it than any other emerging storage technology. This coming year may well be the Year of IP Storage, with iSCSI playing a big role. Sure, the first wave... Access >>>
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- Few options for disaster-proof storage
IBM's Shark stays afloat
Recent enhancements should keep Shark afloat for a while longer.
- Data growth not in vain at NCSA
- Free of Fibre Channel baggage, firm builds IP SAN
Modular vs. Monolithic
by Julie Ryan
Modular's price is attractive and features have steadily grown, but modular still has advantages for some scenarios.
EMC takes a stab at storage consulting services
EMC is expanding its professional services group to offer platform-independent consulting.
The bookshelf
Looking for storage enlightenment?
Managing storage at the edge
by Eric Knorr
As the amount of off-site workers and data increases, you'll need everything from replicating software to USB drives to keep pace.
What Will Succeed DDS for the Low-end Tape Throne?
Last year, manufacturers of Digital Data Storage (DDS) tape announced they would discontinue any further development of the 8mm technology.
- Comings, Goings
Pick the right ATA array for backup
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Pick the right ATA array for backup
Penny per megabyte NAS here to stay
Priced in the penny per megabyte range, networked storage is within reach of all but the smallest mom and pops.
Optimizing LAN-free backup
by Marc Farley
To get the most out of LAN-free backup, zero in on performance capabilities and constraints.
Seven steps to backup and restore
by Ed Palmer
As backup and recovery becomes increasingly difficult to manage, creating a backup and restore plan is becoming more necessary.
The road to practical SAN security
by Benjamin Kuo
The spread of SANs has created a growing number of security products that address specific Achilles' heels, from authentication to transmission to encryption.
- What Will Succeed DDS for the Low-end Tape Throne?
How to select and implement a tape library - effectively
by James Damoulakis
Select and implement a tape library - effectively.
Make your SAN administrator's life easier with Brocade's Fabric Manager
by Darryl Brooks
Make your SAN administrator's life easier with Brocade's Fabric Manager.
Andiamo: Now you see it, now you don't
Storage Bin - Andiamo: Now you see it, now you don't
Innovating carefully
by Mark Schlack
Innovating carefully
Snapshot: What do you want from storage vendors?
What do you want from storage vendors?
- How to select and implement a tape library - effectively by James Damoulakis
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Big data infrastructure and analytics are some of the hottest technology topics today, and it can sometimes seem impossible to dissect and digest all...


text: I hate to see anything negative about my Pats but I was watching NFL network a few hours ago returning from my finals, and they were showing interviews from coaches and their thoughts on Roethlisberger...and when Bill Bellichicks' came on at the bottom it noted, 1-2 vs. Roethlisberger!!!! Ok I overreacted but still they must do this to make Ben look good and us bad! We were the first team to beat Ben! And then we were the first team to beat him in the regular season!!!


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Happy 86th birthday, Cesar Chavez.
Happy 96th birthday, Ella Fitzgerald.
(One of Jazz's greats!)
Zora Neale Hurston's 123rd Birthday
I had never heard of Zora Hurston.
Below is a bit about her.
Zora Neale Hurston is considered one of the pre-eminent writers of twentieth-century African-American literature. Hurston was closely associated with the Harlem Renaissance and has influenced such writers as Ralph Ellison, Toni Morrison, Gayle Jones, Alice Walker, and Toni Cade Bambara.In 1975, Ms. Magazine published Alice Walker's essay, "In Search of Zora Neale Hurston" reviving interest in the author. Hurston's four novels and two books of folklore resulted from extensive anthropological research and have proven invaluable sources on the oral cultures of African America.Through her writings, Robert Hemenway wrote in The Harlem Renaissance Remembered, Hurston "helped to remind the Renaissance—especially its more bourgeois members—of the richness in the racial heritage."
Ada Lovelace is honored today by Google for her contribution to computer science. She is variously described as the "first computer programmer" and the inventor of the algorithm.
But Ada Lovelace might have become an historical footnote – the only legitimate daughter of Romantic poet Lord Byron – were it not for her relationship with Charles Babbage, the "father of the computer."
Happy holidays!
Happy Veteran's Day!


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"Christmas is a holiday that persecutes the lonely, the frayed, and the rejected.
Find a translation for this quote in other languages:
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Discuss this Jimmy Cannon quote with the community:
Use the citation below to add this quote to your bibliography:
"Jimmy Cannon Quotes." Quotes.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2014. Web. 24 Oct. 2014. <http://www.quotes.net/quote/36058>.


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As my last Vagabonding contribution for year 2012 – and I am glad to say that it has been a great pleasure and a serious commitment, guys – I decided to comment on an interesting article I found here. The author, classifying himself as one of the "New Rich" theorized by Timothy Ferriss' famous bestseller, gives the life perspective's lowdown on his profitable work experience as he travels the world. His final view, however, is far from casting an idyllic image of this lifestyle, as he says "it occurs to me that the New Rich, for all of our impressive values, are just as guilty of materialism as the old rich. It just takes a different form. Instead of an addiction to status and possessions, we're addicted to experience and novelty. The end result is the same. Our relationships, our connections to what's important, suffer. For the first time in three years of non-stop travel, I wish for a home."
After reading, the natural question I have is: has the whole "digital nomad" concept of life finally exposed its own limits and faults? Isn't it, ultimately, just another more solitary way to do business? I can only see that, in the end, a digital worker is STILL bound to his own work schedule and internet connection necessities, after all… with the aggravated understanding of his own group's isolation. Apparently, the New Rich have reached a level where relationships, life, and possibly the same essence of travel and adventure, radiate from a computer screen. The work location really does not matter anymore: lives keep being conducted behind the comfort and isolation of internet connections and LCD screens, exploiting a code of honor in which relationships may be just taken as an umpteenth source of data – and therefore , become easily negotiable online. In my opinion, the uneasiness expressed by the author is understandable for a long-term traveler; regardless, it casts big, dark shadows on the psychological well-being of online traveling businessmen, at least under a relational point of view, as outlined in the article.
In my own long-term traveler sense, being a New Rich looks exactly like 走马看花 (zou ma kan hua), or "to watch flowers while riding on horseback": what can be the depth of perception of someone who only experiences places in between computer stints? I am glad that someone from the group finally outlined that "digital nomads" have lost their connection… with reality. Maybe, and pardon the biased pun, if they lost their internet connections, instead, the horrible consequences may help them regain a sense of the exceptional life stories they are living… but can we/they stop thinking of profit and money as we/they travel, at least for a short while? I would like to read your opinions/experiences.
Christmas this year find us on the edge of the jungle in Borneo. Hiking yesterday I found a pocketful of nutmeg and remembered making a Christmas phone call years ago, with my brother who was here in the Spice Islands while I was "at home" changing diapers. He told me about the orang utan he'd encountered deep up a jungle river and he mailed me a boxful of nutmeg he'd picked off of the forest floor for me. This year I'll be making that phone call home, and he's the one ankle deep in babies and diapers.
Josh spent the first five years after university in a 34 foot sailboat, circumnavigating. He was named after Joshua Slocum, so it was his fate. He and I have both chosen unconventional lives, as a direct result of our unconventional upbringing. We were raised to follow our dreams, instead of toe the line. I'm unspeakably grateful for that.
I remember a few short weeks before we leapt off the cliff, quit the high power job, sold our house out from under our four young children and struck out in the world with what we could carry on our bikes and nothing more, talking with him on the phone from his little homestead in the Okisollo channel in BC, where he builds boats and plots adventures. We'd been getting a little push back from people in the conventional world, people who were concerned that we were committing financial suicide, limiting our children's educational or social potential and who were a bit incredulous that we'd step out of a "perfect life" for something so uncomfortable, so uncertain, as full time travel.
"We're just getting a little hate mail, and it's making me wonder… is this going to turn out to be a big mistake? I mean, it's different with four kids, isn't it?"
Josh chuckled, in his quiet way, and replied:
"And these people sending hate mail, what, exactly have they done? Do they have any experience with this kind of thing?"
I had to admit that they did not. None of them had done anything out of the status quo.
"See, to my mind, that's exactly where you want to be. When 90% of the people who haven't done anything think you're nuts, that's just about right. It's when the 10% of people who have done what you want to start raising red flags, then you might want to listen."
I laughed with him and breathed a sigh of relief; of course he was exactly right.
Over the years, I've repeated that bit of wisdom to many other folks on the cusp of something huge and frightening and life changing. It's proven itself true in our own lives, time and again. If you want to live a passion driven life and your passions are taking you outside of the status quo, don't look to the folks living conventional lives for the encouragement or experience you need. You'll need to surround yourself with other dreamers of big dreams, and you'll need to create a community of folks who are living in the world you're trying to create as a sounding board and sanity check.
Daily activities, within a comfortable, familiar environment can be interesting enough with a disability. If you spend time in a wheelchair, you know how different surfaces, or slight inclines, can create an immense challenge. Well yes, they may pose a challenge, look at it this way; a world on wheels is a unique perspective.
Not long ago, Justin Skeesuck launched: The Disabled Traveler, with a tag line of "see the world differently." Justin Skeesuck is a well-seasoned traveler. We connected (via social media) because of our mutual love of photography. I got to be part of the beta stages of his project, and am thrilled to now share with you his live site. On the main page, you'll discover a free eBook! And every few weeks he hosts an Accessible Travel webinar. But also check out his blog. Where, even I recently discovered another wonderful site with great accessible information and stories called, wheelchairtraveling.com
A lot of the time the worst-case scenario takes over our mind, and it just seems safer to stay home. But hopefully both of the above mentioned sites will help you roll along to discover the world.
The Wall Street Journal had a story titled, "The let's sell our house and see the world retirement." A couple, Lynn and Tim Martin, decided to ditch the stereotypical retirement lifestyle and hit the road.
Here's how Lynn describes it:
In short, we're senior gypsies. In early 2011 we sold our house in California and moved the few objects we wanted to keep into a 10-by-15-foot storage unit. Since then, we have lived in furnished apartments and houses in Mexico, Argentina, Florida, Turkey, France, Italy and England. In the next couple of months, we will live in Ireland and Morocco before returning briefly to the U.S. for the holidays.
Nice to read that anyone can be a vagabonder, regardless of age, gender, income level, etc. Where there's a will, there's a way.
Just under the headline, click on "Interactive Graphics" to see a map with a breakdown of the Martins' budget. Most of cities they've lived in turned out to be cheaper than their California home, even expensive destinations like London. Lynn gives much of the credit to the vagabonding ethic, as she shares here:
We follow some simple strategies to keep our budget in line. Stays in more expensive locations, like Paris or London, are balanced by living in less pricey countries like Mexico, Turkey or Portugal. We dine out several times a week but eat at home much of the time. I like to cook, and food shopping is a great way to learn about a country. (Finding baking soda in Buenos Aires isn't nearly as simple as it sounds.)
Have you retired and are currently traveling? Please share your experiences in the comments.
I'm sure you've heard the excuses. I know I've heard more of 'em than I ever thought existed.
In the end there are a million reasons not to live your dream, but all you really need are a small handful of reasons to do it. It all comes down to priorities.
If you are happy with your life at the moment, then there's nothing you need to change. If, however, there is something you're not happy with, it's up to you to change it.
You have a choice. You can continue doing what you've been doing and you'll get the same things you've been getting. If you want something different, you need to do something different. You know the saying: Insanity is doing the same thing over and over but expecting a different outcome. It's true.
Set your priorities in life and then take steps to get there. It won't be easy. It won't come without work. Your dream won't fall in your lap. YOU make that dream happen.
When we decided to ride our bikes from one end of the world to the other, we worked toward it with an undying sense of commitment and passion. Every action and thought was focused on making that dream come true. We woke up in the morning and thought about what steps we would take that day and in the evening we looked back on the progress we made. Baby steps to be sure, but they were steps in the right direction.
As I look back on that time period now, I realize there were three key attitudes and beliefs that were in place in order for us to be successful. (more…)
Business travelers, also known as "road warriors," are some of the most experienced trip hackers around. Although here at Vagabonding we espouse slower wandering, these hard-core types have streamlined the process to a science. Their advice appeared in this New York Times article: How the tough get going: Silicon Valley travel tips. Prominently featured in the article is Tim Ferriss, known as the author of "The 4-Hour Workweek" and the "The 4-Hour Body."
Naturally, there are many websites and apps that get mentioned. It's interesting to see these guys apply a hacker ethic of "lighter, faster, more efficient" to their journeys.
My favorite tip was how to get a new charger and adapter fast if you lose yours. Ask your hotel to see their "lost and found" box. If you're staying at a place that gets a lot of businesspeople, a lot of those things get accidentally left behind.
The CLEARcard was new to me. This enables cardholders to pass through airport security faster. While it's a useful tool, a quick check of their website reveals that the card can only be used in four airports. If the card were more widely accepted, it would be more handy.
I did research, and found Global Entry. This is a U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP) program that can help members speed through security. Global Entry has been deployed in many major American airports, making it far more convenient than CLEARcard.
Some of the advice was risky though, like packing a starter pistol and declaring the firearm to TSA, as a way of making sure airport staff don't lose your bag. With security being a big concern these days, this is not something I would recommend to anyone.
How do you pack light for your trips? Any tips for speeding up the check-in and boarding process? Please share your thoughts in the comments.
Most dreams die because the dreamers can't take the requisite and always terrifying step into the unknown. The best laid plans and sincerest intentions are no protection against the stomach-lurching sensation when you let go of the lifeline.
Cila Warnke is currently writing a book – THE BOOK, as she refers to it. Here's her description: The Book tells the stories of people who refuse to go gently into the fiction of "normal" life. They have confronted all the usual excuses for saying "no" (children, illness, age, lack of opportunity) and with cheerful, bloody-minded determination said "yes" to their dreams. These quiet heroes know the secret of success is not money, power, or privilege, but passion, desire, and a willingness to take risks. They are, to borrow from Henry David Thoreau, living deliberately.
I am fortunate to be one of the cast, one of the people profiled in The Book. Cila has been posting snippets of her writing on her blog for a while and I love reading about the wonderful people she's spoken with. But yesterday, when I read her newest installment about my story, this part hit me: "Most dreams die because the dreamers can't take the requisite and always terrifying step into the unknown. The best laid plans and sincerest intentions are no protection against the stomach-lurching sensation when you let go of the lifeline."
And that made me think. Do more dreams die due to fear of the unknown, or due to lack of money? I hear from many people who say one or the other, and I honestly don't know the answer. I'd like to say that lack of money may delay a dream, but if you are committed to making the dream happen that hurdle can be overcome. Taking that terrifying step into the unknown, however, is more difficult in my mind. For those of us lucky enough to live in developed countries, it seems to me that we can make it happen if we work hard enough. I know that, for many people in less fortunate situations around the world, there is no way no matter how hard they work.
And so I ask you: Do more dreams die because of lack of money or because of the fear of the unknown? What do you think?
Nancy Sathre-Vogel is Mom to an adventurous family who will try just about anything; many times, they actually achieve what they set out to do. Their most recent success was biking from Alaska to Argentina, but there have been others too. And some failures in there as well. You can follow their adventures at www.familyonbikes.org/blog
There's a lot of talk in cyberspace about living your dream. Live life on your own terms, grab life by the horns and take it for a ride.
But what happens when you discover that the life you thought you wanted isn't meeting your needs like you thought it would? Then what? Hang on anyway? Or give yourself permission to move on?
That's precisely where we found ourselves as we hiked the Colorado Trail through the Rockies this summer. As we planned our 500-mile backpack trip we figured we would love being out in the mountains with our backpacks full of tents, sleeping bags, and food. It would be just us and Mother Nature out there in the wild blue yonder.
Yet when we got out there it wasn't quite as we had envisioned. We knew the journey would be difficult, but didn't expect the level of traffic on the trail. Mountain bikes whizzed past and we shared the trail with others out for a day hike while we lugged heavy backpacks. Somehow, it wasn't quite what we had in mind.
And so… what? Do we hang on to some idealized version of our dream and keep going? Or do we accept the reality of what it is and call it off?
In the end, we opted to bail. We realized that long-distance biking is what we enjoy, not so much long-distance hiking. That's OK. Different strokes for different folks.
Did we fail to live our dream? Not at all. We failed to hike the entire 500-mile Colorado Trail, but we lived our dream. We planned, we packed up, we hiked 200 miles, we learned we weren't enjoying it, we changed our plan.
Now we need to come up with a new dream. I wonder what that will be?
Have you ever had a dream that ended up not being all you expected? What did you do? Bail or stick with it?
Nancy Sathre-Vogel is Mom to an adventurous family who will try just about anything. Many times, they actually achieve what they set out to do. Their most recent success was biking from Alaska to Argentina, but there have been others too. And some failures in there as well. You can follow their adventures at www.familyonbikes.org/blog
On the 7th of June, 37 year old Andy Campbell and his team set out from The Royal Geographic Society in London. Over the next two years he's making his way around the world without a distinctively planned route. Eight years ago, Andy fell while rock climbing and became paralyzed from the waist down. As an able-bodied person, suddenly loosing the use of your legs can come as quite a shock. Mobility takes on a whole new angle of thinking. But it hasn't dampened his adventurous spirit.
A few years ago I vividly remember standing in the doctor's office blinking at X-rays of my spine hoping magically they'd look "normal" the next time-no such luck. My own gypsy spirit drifted beyond the walls as she said the words, "scoliosis" and "phase two, spinal degeneration". Putting on the recommended back brace my view of the world changed. For the next year and a half it became part of my daily clothing. I began to take notice of little things like the weight of doors as my hand opened them. Seven months after I was told not to lift over 15lbs for a long while; our very own vagabonding inspiration, Rolf, traveled around the world on his "No baggage" journey.
"Disability does not mean inability" as one Michigan based Service Dog training facility promotes. And in that light, Andy of "Pushing the Limits" is making his way around the globe and would appreciate your ideas on where to visit! Check out his blog, drop an email and give him suggestions on where to go next!
I've applied to join the expedition when it reaches North America…
Traveling isn't limited to putting one foot in front of the other—especially after the invention of the wheel–it's all about attitude.
I remember reading a blog post before I left for my trip recommending that first-time travelers take a 5- to 7-week test trip to determine if long-term travel was right for them.
I disregarded this advice, as I didn't really question whether I'd like traveling – I'd dreamed of it my whole life, and the pull to do it was strong enough that I was willing to quit a job I loved for it.
Three months later, here I am recommending a test trip – but for different reasons.
It's not so much about figuring out if it's right for you, but figuring out how it's right for you. There are many styles of vagabonding – you could get a RTW ticket, you could work and live in one place abroad for a longer period, you could simply wander. If you haven't traveled for more than a few weeks (which is likely the case for many career breakers from the U.S. like me) there's no way of knowing your own travel style and what will work best for you.
I knew I couldn't know the answers to these things before leaving, so I knew I had to just go and would figure it out from there. I didn't specifically view every little thing as a test, but I found myself constantly learning what I liked and what type of travel could work for me. Now, I'm home on a pit stop (slightly unexpectedly but in a good way), planning the next phase of my journey, using all that I've learned to inform my decisions.
I don't think a test trip necessarily means you need to leave, come home and then leave again; you can learn and adjust along the way without coming home, as long as you keep your trip flexible. That means holding off on buying the 1-year RTW ticket or taking the job teaching English abroad, if possible, until you know that style of travel is right for you.
Below are some of the things I've gained insight on in my first three months of travel, and while I still have a lot to learn, I know that I couldn't have had answers to any of these things without first simply going and testing it out.
Fast vs. slow – I met a traveler whose style was go to as fast as possible, seeing all the main sites and then quickly moving to the next place, with plans to return in the future for longer periods in the places he really liked. While this format works for him, I learned that I would rather spend time in a place, understanding it as much as possible beyond the key sites. Other travelers fall somewhere in the middle. But either way, it's hard to know without doing it, and this is a big dictator of how to set your itinerary so it's important to know before setting out.
Tourism vs. immersion – After spending six weeks in a small town in Guatemala that sees few tourists, going to a big city full of "sites to see" was a bit of a culture shock that quickly taught me that I preferred the former. Of course, a big part of travel is seeing the sites – the natural wonders and historical buildings that only exist in that place – and I absolutely want to see them, but I have learned that I also enjoy immersing myself in smaller towns and cultural experiences for longer periods whenever possible. Again, knowing this can dictate where to go and how much time to estimate for each location for future trips.
Work and travel vs. work to travel – This remains one of the biggest questions, but after meeting so many different travelers and expats (including staying a few days in a suburb of Santiago, Chile, in an expat community) I now have perspective on the various options. It always sounds so dreamy to think about teaching English abroad or being a "digital nomad," but seeing it in action can help you understand if it's really for you, or if you prefer to have a "home" life and job that allows flexibility for travel. If you've quit your job to embrace the vagabonding lifestyle, knowing this before jumping in is essential.
Live abroad vs. travel abroad – Similar to above, traveling for a few months can give you insight as to whether you'd like to live in one place for a long period, or if you prefer to keep moving. Although I enjoy spending time in places, I also always get an itch for change and to see new things after a while – something I wouldn't have known without traveling for a bit. Similarly, traveling for an extended period can help you know how long you like to be on the road for – some people can go for years, while others prefer a few months at a time.
Taking on a traveling lifestyle a big life decision, and just like we often test other life decisions – we get internships before jobs, rent before buying, date before getting engaged – it makes sense to learn how you like to travel before committing to a format. That doesn't mean to go into your first trip timidly and strictly, assessing everything, it means quite the opposite – just let go and keep an open mind, and you'll figure out the rest later.
Travelers, what do you think about staying flexible on the first trip?


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To open an account just click on the link at the bottom of this page to donwmload the interactive pdf credit application form.
There are two ways of completing this form:
Open account status is normally granted to well rated organizations with the appropriate credit references and banking history. Terms of payment are NET 30 days.
Unless your company is a Fortune 500, it may take up to ten days to process an open account. Should you need your order sooner, we suggest your first order be by credit card.
Please note that public educational institutions and government agencies need not fill out a credit application form They are immediately granted an open account. We just require the appropriate billing address and purchase order #.


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2014-15 will be the biggest season this country has seen in terms of One-Day International matches.
South Africa will visit Australia in November for a five match series, before India and England play the Aussies in a Tri Series in January. All of which lead into the first World Cup held on Australian soil since 1992.
The Gabba will host a clash between India and England on January 20, before three World Cup games are held in Brisbane.
Carlton Mid ODI Australia vs. South Africa Series
Friday Nov 14 - WACA, Perth
Sunday Nov 16 - WACA, Perth
Wednesday Nov 19 - Manuka Oval, Perth
Friday November 21 - MCG, Melbourne
Sunday November 23 - SCG, Sydney
Cartlon Mid ODI Tri Series
Friday Jan 16 - Australia vs. India - MCG, Melbourne
Sunday Jan 18 - Australia vs. England - SCG, Sydney
Tuesday Jan 20 - England vs. India - Gabba, Brisbane
Friday Jan 23 - Australia vs. England - Blundstone Arena, Hobart
Monday Jan 26 - Australia vs. India - SCG, Sydney
Friday Jan 30 - England vs. India - WACA, Perth
Sunday Feb 1 - Final - WACA, Perth


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Islesboro Island Cottage Rental Photos and Description
Pebbly/Sandy Beach, Sleeps 8, Great Views, Updated Bathroom w/ Outdoor Shower
Solsidan is a traditional-style Maine beachfront cottage. The setting, nestled on a quiet point with pebbly/sandy beach front and back, is truly spectacular. The cottage has a magnificent view across Penobscot Bay to Cape Rosier and Castine and beyond to Blue Hill.
You can step off the porch and walk the beach with your morning coffee. The beach is regarded as one of the best on the island. The cove has a small number of original summer cottages. Enjoy quiet walks, boating, reading, and relaxation. Dine on the covered porch and enjoy the view.
Some changes have taken place during its life but Solsidan retains the original wood open-wall construction. The house has a spirit that conjures up images of the summer-long family sojourns that have occurred many summers during the last 100 years of the cottage's history.
Water on two sides.: See the view of the back beach while preparing dinner in the kitchen!
Narrative description: Solsidan has 3 bedrooms, one on the first floor (queen bed), and two on the second floor. There is also a large open room (studio) overlooking the bay that has two twin beds. The first floor has a bedroom, kitchen, living room with woodstove (wood provided), spacious bathroom (recently redone), laundry space, and glassed-in porch sitting/dining area. There is also an outdoor shower area. One full side of the house overlooking the water is a covered porch, with plenty of room to spread out in the separate dining and sitting areas. The house is fully equipped with bed linens, towels, pots, pans, and bakeware, dishes, coffee grinder and maker, lobster pot, toaster oven, blender, charcoal grill, radio, CD/iPod player, books, puzzles, and games.
- Suitability:
- Long-term Renters Welcome
- children welcome
- non smoking only
- pets considered
- suitable for elderly or infirm


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★ Yo yo
So I will hopefully get more pictures on here soon. Going to look into some camera options. But for now I'll be posting pictures while I'm in Puerto Rico. So enjoy those I guess haha. Some are taken with my phone camera and others from my brother's GoPro.
I just feel so unmotivated about everything