And now, I’d like to take a moment to thank the sponsors…

I have a ton of posts still queued up in my head about the specifics of my Blissdom experience, and don’t you worry, I’ll get them up in the next couple of weeks, with photos and enough rainbows shooting out of my arse to make you all vomit copiously. I am juggling some family travel things and some work travel things right now (which I will also tell you about in due time and with much excitement) so my lazy douchery is being worn on both sleeves and the middle of my forehead as far as the ole’ blog is concerned.  Ya still love me, right?  (Speaking of #love, check this out and jump in! I want to hear from all of you so I can include you in a future blog post this month.) 

Now, about Blissdom posts…

This one is first, because it’s a nod to the Blissdom sponsors. Without them, the show doesn’t go on, ya dig? They are the companies that invest in this dream that gets dreamed and then nurtured, hatched, grown, and set free every year. They provide and then show up to showcase their goods, share their knowledge, and connect with us on a professional and personal level.

They’re putting their hands into an effort to lift us up and help us find whatever it is we may be looking for when we join together at a blogging conference that has our hearts and minds, this Blissdom Conference that we fall in love with and want to come back to repeatedly.

My personal favorite is Freschetta, and I’m not going to lie, but they had me at NOMMY PIZZA and then they only grew my love up greater when they said “here, put on crazy props and pose like a moron with your friends in our awesome photo booth of love!” Dear Freschetta: will you please marry me? Thanks.

I also throw heavy props to:

• Con Agra Foods – I think that I could probably forget to eat with all the excitement and hugging and the being a little bit dizzy from being out until 4 am the night before so thank you so much for making sure we ate well balanced foods while we were enjoying the conference that were flavorful, interesting, and totally delicious. (Will you please come to my house and make burritos for me? Come on, I’ll give you a foot rub. Okay, the truth is I’ll make my husband do that, but still. Free foot rub. Eh?)

• Lisa Leonard Designs: This woman is incredibly talented, massively loved, and so adorable you really have to restrain yourself from running up and hugging her until she breaks. Her jewelry is beautiful. Thanks for another amazing piece to treasure, Lisa.

photo of and by Mishelle Lane

• Dear Blue Bunny, I have LUSTED AFTER YOU SINCE HIGH SCHOOL. I will marry Freschetta, but I must have your ice-creamy babies. I would like to extend to you an invitation to the pants party, if you know what I mean. And I think that you do. *salacious wink*

• Quaker Oats Company: They make the most delicious, energizing, fill-me up and get me going breakfast food that my son and I both love equally (which happens to be great, big boatloads of lovin’). In our home, Quaker Oatmeal = Yes, Please. This is one of my personal “fitness-health food-breakfast of champions” foods.

• Hallmark: Their cards are the thing I think about first when I hear the Hallmark name, and I love them, but they are so much more. For example, they have a recordable storybook (received in my Prep for Bliss package) that is going to bring my husband’s loving voice to my son at bedtime even when he’s out on the road (touring musician). For that, I thank them endlessly. And I might cry in a minute, so I’m movin’ on now.

• Purex: I used their free and clear detergent for years, and I’m a huge fan. I was introduced to the crystals at Blissdom – haven’t used them yet, but I have great expectations. Of note: their rep at the conference was one of the most delightful people I spoke to all day (and that’s saying a lot at an event like this) so KUDOS to them on hiring fantastic people to represent them and speak with compassion and humor, on a personal level, with prospective clients/consumers.

Smiles from my swag bag:

• Vintage Pearl – I have another lovely necklace to treasure! This delicate and meaningful piece will be well worn before long.

• Unilever’s Dove Ultimate Nectarine & Ginger Deodorant – It’s tiny, which makes me squee (don’t judge me, I love miniature and travel sized packages of happy), but also smells like win and works fantastically. Thumbs up.

• Kleenex Tissue! Finally a blogging conference has tissues in the swag bag! Dude, you know we are ALL GOING TO CRY AT SOME POINT during this thing. You know that, right? RIGHT??? Trust me. We are all going to cry AT LEAST ONCE AT THIS THING. Amen to tissues on hand.

• Dear Jockey, you gave me a pair of tiny underwear that fits on my foot.  You also gave me $20 off any order with free shipping, AND provided an opportunity for me to act like a pompous ass on the “red carpet” one night. Need I say more? Mad love.

photo by mooshinindy

Thank you to all the sponsors who helped support the Blissdom experience. You help pull off an experience I look forward to more and more with each passing year, and I am truly thankful to you for that.

For a complete list of sponsors, please visit this page.

Once more, for good measure.

Long time readers will
remember the story of
our last, moldy house.

What a trial that was!
We have been in this new home
for a whole year now.

I could never say
thank you enough times to those
who helped us get out.

To all of you who
stepped in to help us move then
and are still around

I want you to know
that I think grateful thoughts of
each of you often.

And now we’ve got a
whole year of new memories
in a better home.

So much has happened
in this year that has now passed.
It’s remarkable.

March 2008………………………………………………………………………………………………………….March 2009

So, once more I say
Thank you, Thank you, Thank you all
Thanks so very much.

The Elves Came Early

They told some of my friends to send me things… they all chose things that would comfort me… how did they know? Now these are good friends…

Like my Cheese, Fruit & Cookies-Giving Friend…

She even put in presents for Braden to keep him distracted.


Or my Coffee-Giving Friend…

Gorgeous Tumbler and Charged Card so I can buy coffee and get free internet access at Starbucks. Me time!
*faints*


Or how about my Beautiful Soaps & Chapsticks-Giving Friend?

This was so perfect for me… I have a chapstick addiction. Do you know what I mean? Anyone?


And who can overlook my Chocolate & HooHaa Care-Giving Friend?

Gotta love a pad with BEWBS drawn on the wrapper. Also? Don’t touch my Russell Stover German Black Forest Truffle or you will draw back a nub.

And then I will rip off your nub and bludgeon you with it.

Yes, it’s that serious.


So, Nub Bludgeoning aside… would you be willing to give me a gift? Do me a favor right now and gift me this Christmas by doing something for someone else.

It’s really easy; all you have to do is click a link.

That’s right. I want you to click a link. Until the end of December, every time you click this link, or load any of the other pages on that website, you help earn ad revenue, 100% of which will be donated to a non-profit charity called “To Write Love on Her Arms.” (You can check the charity out here.  Make a donation, buy a shirt.  I’m going to buy a shirt… I’ll post photos of me in it later, even.)

They are “dedicated to presenting hope and finding help for those struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury, and suicide.”

So, from a person depressed as she’s ever been this Christmas, please click. Click as many times as you feel moved to click, between now and the end of December 2008.

If you click right now, leave a comment on that post, then come back to me and tell me you did it.  It’s like my Christmas present. But even if you don’t feel like coming back, just click anyway, ok?

Merry Christmas, to all of you. And thank you.

Bet you didn’t know you had wings.

On Monday I sent John to get us a Christmas tree.

I like real trees. I know that many people have their own, good reasons for having fake trees, but I just can’t have one. I need the smell of a real tree. I need the mess of annoying real tree needles to scatter the carpet. I need the real tree sappy bark and the real tree prickly branches.

I like it when things are real. They hold more meaning for me, somehow. I am alive when I feel.

Real.

Monday evening, I opened a large storage container. In fact, last year, I closed myself up in it entirely, which is a humorous thing for me to recall. What’s even more amusing to me is that, in true camera-obsessed form, I had my Kodak in there with me.

Instead of a dork, it now contains our Christmas decorations. One of the things inside was the Angel we top our tree with each year. We have owned her for about 4 years. Her arms, held open with ribbons and ornaments streaming from one, are posable. I have never moved them, however, and I pack her carefully each year so she that remains in the same position.

So I was more than a bit taken aback when I pulled her out of the box on Monday evening like this:

It was a striking image, her arm thrown across her face, ribbons and ornaments still streaming from her hand. As if the Reality of the family that she was joining this year was too much to bear.

Was she shielding her eyes from my pain? Weeping for us; unable to bear witness.

Tuesday morning, looking down at my own hand, I was reminded of my Angel.

And I realized that I had misinterpreted the message I’d received in her the previous night.

Others are not shielding themselves from this hurt I’m sharing. My pain is not being avoided – it is being shared by and divided amongst all of my “angels.” Without them (you guys), the burden would be heavier, because I would carry it practically alone.

You are my Angels, so to speak.

Every message you send me. Every comment you leave. Every email I get. Every @SarcasticMomLC you shoot my way on Twitter.  You are bearing witness, standing with me, and sharing my pain – you are lessening my burden by supporting me.  All your messages do this.

Please forgive me if I have not the strength or words yet to reply to them all… but know I see them all. I see all of you.

I see you, throwing your hands across your faces with me, the ribbons streaming from them beautifully as you each take a little piece of my pain so I do not feel alone here in “the abyss.”

Sometimes it hurts when things are so real. But I wouldn’t have it any other way, really.

Thanks for letting me feel safe being real.

Just two words we often forget to say.

Braden has learned how to say “please,” when he wants something. He also says, “thank you,” and I’m struggling to make sure he understands how to use that phrase properly.

It’s so important.

Do you remember your senior year in high school? Teachers who were just so out of it? Do you remember all the things that were so very important to you?

So little that had previously been important to me was still important to me that year. I had always done well in school, had genuinely cared about my performance. Something shifted in me that year.

I just didn’t care anymore. College was just around the corner, and as such, you’d think I’d have been more worried than ever about letting my grade point average slip.

But no. I skipped classes. I diddled and ignored what was going on while I was in classes.

Some of my teachers doubted my actual abilities; how could they not? One of them for sure did not.

She wore stockings with open-toed sandles. Her hair was short and very permed. She spoke sort of strangely. She was totally into Beowulf. She was the perfect target for mockery and insult.

And that’s what I used as my shield of defense. While she worked to crack through my Senior Year Apathy and inspire the student she somehow knew was hidden within, I deflected her efforts by mocking her mentally. I made her into an icon of ridicule in my mind, so I wouldn’t have to admit to myself that she was right. That she cared.  That I should listen to her.

The soft-hearted part of me would have never been able to keep it up. Not if I allowed myself to see her as a real, caring person.

So I mocked her with friends. We made fun of the strange way she talked, her appearance, her quirks. We laughed, we told jokes.

I was obnoxious to her. I didn’t finish work on time. I tried to avoid her. She persevered and she got to me.

I told myself I was performing just to get her off my back. She taught me things. I wrote better and better. I saw her for real. I appreciated her. I did not admit it to anyone.

I never thanked her.

In college, my performance in English and with other writing was directly affected by her earlier attention to me. I applied things she coached me on when she was forcing her way persistently through the stupid shell I was sporting back then.

I never thanked her.

She used to come in to the Diary Queen where I worked while I was in college, with her husband, and she would ask me about how I was doing. She would tell me what a good English major I would make. That I could be an excellent writer. She was proud of me. It made me feel good about myself. I appreciated her.

I never thanked her.

I heard rumors through the grape-vine of a small town. And I began to see that she seemed more frail when she would come to the store with her husband.

I never thanked her.

One day, her husband came for ice cream alone. And every time after that, he was alone.

I had never thanked her.

The brain tumor had claimed her life, and for all that she gave me, I never thanked her.

I never thanked her.

Just two words, but a huge regret.

Thank you, Mrs. Tester.  Thank you.  I’m sorry it was so hard for me to learn how important it is to say those words.

Thank you.

I Gots The Feevah

Thanks so much for all the kind words, prayers, and sweet things so many of you said to me (us) on yesterday’s post! It was a real treat for me to come home yesterday afternoon and see so many wishing us well… and to keep seeing those well wishes and kind comments coming in later in the day. You guys are a wonderful group of friends that I can celebrate my joys with as well as find support from during the bad times. It means so much to me, I don’t feel I can express it adequately.

(Look, the newly pregnant woman is getting emotional… no one saw that coming, eh?)

I mentioned coming home to see the comments… that is because in the morning, John and I packed Braden up and met some fabulous Nashville bloggers for some of child-filled fun at the Zoo!

Malia got us all to drag our carcasses away from our computers for awhile (now that is power), and I’m really glad she did, because it’s been too long since I saw those lovely ladies!

I took my camera with me, fully planning on taking pictures of their lovely faces.

Instead, I got infected with “baby love.” Sorry ladies, I gots the feevah!

Little Jeremiah (Alli’s newest addition)

The Tiny, Lovely Tessa (Michelle’s brand new sweetie)

Tessa’s big sister was close by, and she was not to be left out, which was fine by me… she is incredibly beautiful…

Sabrina

But seriously, I couldn’t stop eyeballing the babies…

Baaaaaaaabbeeeeeeeees.

*dreamy sigh*

I have to wait 9 whole months again, right? *grooooaaaaan*

*fart*
(sorry.)

Don’t get me wrong, I’m MORE than happy to be unpacking.

Been scheduling posts
all week amidst the moving
chaos we are in.

So many of you
have already helped us with
gifts, words, and support.

We thank you from the
bottom of our collective hearts.
It means so much.

New internet should
be hooked up sometime today.
I won’t hold my breath.

What will I be doing?
Taking a bath in front of
a window, for fun?

At some point, I guess.
But until that time comes,
we’ll be unpacking.

Unpacking, you know,
is another way to say,
“wishing I was dead.”

First, I totally bore you with the medical stuff… then, Pee Pee!

Several kind readers have been asking me about how my appointment with the Endocrinologist went on Jan.28.

(For links on the back story, visit here, here, here and here. I have Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis, and have been experiencing Clinical Depression for some time.)

This post will probably be very long, and probably not all that funny. I know some of you come here for your funny. If you stick with me while I’m playing Debbie Downer today, I’ll give you some funny at the end. Promise. Okay?

Okay.

The actual Endo visit was like this:

Got there, signed in, sat down. Read book. Suddenly wanted to cry. Had no idea WHY. Unable to keep reading. Closed eyes and put head against wall. Receptionist asked if I was okay. I nodded yes.

Then I started crying.

I couldn’t stop it from happening. I didn’t know why I was even doing it. It.was.so.embarrassing.

They took me back to the exam room early because they felt sorry for me. Nice, really. But damn, did I feel stupid.

Nurse: “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
Me: “No. Uh… I don’t know?”

Ugh.

The doctor was very kind. She was compassionate, reassuring, attentive, and never rushed me. She explained that I need another ultrasound of the thyroid since it has been 3 years since the last, and I may have developed cancerous nodules during that time. We also agreed on a 3 month cycle for my blood test check ups. Ongoing monitoring is necessary because the status of the disease can change at any time, and can ostensibly be life-threatening.

She indicated that the symptoms of hypothyroidism that I’m experiencing are also the symptoms of clinical depression (you don’t say?) and that if my hormone levels are normal (they were in December) that it is likely that is my problem, as per those symptoms. She said I would need to see a Primary Care Physician to address that. (Like I can afford it, but oh well.)

Before I left the office, I gave more blood. She wanted to make sure there had been no change since the blood tests from December. The results arrived a couple of days ago. My thyroid antibodies are insanely high (you can read about that in one of the above linked posts) but the hormone is “normal.” So no treatment for me from the Endo.

And if I want to get treatment for the Depression, I’m being handed off to yet another doctor, along with another visit fee, plus any other fees for tests and treatment. The bills are already crushing us, and so far, since being diagnosed with the Hashimoto’s back in early 2005, I have received NO treatment that would improve my symptoms. NOT ONCE.

Rewind: When I got home from the appointment on Monday, I decided to continue on some research I’ve been doing lately concerning the link between depression and birth control pills. It can get confusing wading through all that’s out there, but the thrust of it is this: there is a link between depression and birth control pills. Many women report feeling symptoms of depression while on The Pill.

Recently, Veronica told me that when she was on triphasic birth control she “got horribly depressed,” and has “felt miles better since [she] stopped the pill.” Similarly, Jill told me, “it [birth control] drained my energy and stole my libido.”

The progestin contained in the pills is thought to aggravate depression in women who already have it, or trigger it in those who are sensitive/prone to it. In combination pills (estrogen/progestin) the estrogen is said to balance out the negative effect of the progestin. However, again, women who are sensitive to it may still be affected by the progestin ingested.

My own experience, now that I can look back at my past history, has been that while taking a combined pill called Triphasil, I suffer low levels of depression (somewhat manageable), but on Ortho-Tri-Cyclen (what I was on years ago, and then again this year) I suffer incredible depression, including, but certainly not limited to: physical pain in back and neck, extreme fatigue, mood swings, numb/flat affect, irritability, sadness, and loss of libido.

It should be no surprise to learn that, though both pills are triphasic, combination pills (varying levels throughout the month of both estrogen and progestin), The Ortho-Tri-Cyclen will deliver two and a half times the amount of progestin in 3 weeks use as will the Triphasil. [source]

That’s Two And A Half Times the ingredient which can aggravate/trigger depression in many women.

Not a single doctor I have ever visited suggested this as my problem. Not once, in the 13 years I have taken birth control pill. Not once in the very many times I have complained about depression, fatigue, and pain to many different doctors who all knew I was on The Pill.

(Incidentally, both the types of BC I have taken are on the low side for progestin doses, when compared to the many other types of BC, but because I am obviously sensitive to it, that was enough to cause an imbalance for me.)

There has also been recent research detailing the loss of libido for women who take the pill, including a warning of long-term damage. In one study, women who had been taking The Pill for some time had 4 times the amount of SHBG (sex-hormone-binding globulin) in their bodies as did women who had never taken the pill. Hello, depleted libido! Even after 120 days off the pill, these women still had twice as much SHBG in their bodies ad did those who had never taken The Pill. While this is somewhat depressing itself, as it shows that there can be long-term damage to the libido… it also means that some amount of healing can occur over time! YAY!

Last Monday, feeling unhelped by a series of doctors, and without the money to keep visiting more, I did my research on birth control. I talked to John about what I had found so far, and we agreed that it was enough information to prompt me to stop taking birth control to see what happens. After all, things have been very, very much “not good” around here for the past several months.

I try to be frank and honest with you all always, but I talk about the tip of the iceberg here – I don’t like to drag you down with the specifics of the pain I (and my family) endure because I am mentally ill. But do a little reading about Clinical Depression on your own, and you will see that it can be a very frustrating, very ugly thing.

So. I stopped taking The Pill Monday, January 28th. It will probably take some time for me to know for sure whether this is really going to help, or whether I will still need medication. But I can give you a positive report so far. It has been a week, and already John has said that I have been less moody and more kind to him.

And me? I can sense a great change in my “thought life.” I am already finding that I get angry about things less often, and my mood feels generally happier. The debilitating pain in my shoulder/upper back/neck that I have been struggling with for over a month is GONE. I am not feeling as tired as I have recently felt and am more motivated to do things around the house. I think I’ve prepared dinner more times this past week than I did all last month. So? Already feeling better.

In just one week.

I’m not calling for every woman out there to stop taking the pill. It is probably the right thing for some women. But it is definitely not the right thing for every woman. If you take it, and you feel depressed? Ask your doctor for answers. Ask yourself – is it worth this? Could this be what’s hurting me, and those I love? I wish I had known this stuff sooner. I wish my doctors had told me.

I want to take this opportunity to apologize to every single person who’s had to be on the receiving end of my problem, in any way, at any time. It gets hard inside my heart sometimes… it gets ugly inside my head. That flows out of my mouth and my fingers sometimes. Sometimes a lot. I am so sorry.

I want to thank my husband for trying not to kill me, and succeeding.

And I want to thank every single person who says nice things to me on a regular basis. Thank you to every friend and acquaintance who has tried to brighten my day. Thank you to those of you who stick by me and are helping me get through the dark days and make it back into the light. Or, well, into the light at all. You all mean more to me than you can possibly know.

Thank you so much.
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So, you made it to the end? Did you read, or just fast-forward for the funny? Ah well, whichever it was, you made it to the end. You deserve your funny, just because you came here to see me. And also because it’s Tickle Me Tuesday, according to Marie.  

So?  Here’s my funny for the day:

My child is prone to butt rashes, and so, 85% of the time, he is at least half-naked. Regular readers can confirm that there are several Braden Hiney Sightings here on a regular basis.

Result of giving in to the desire to hold and love on your half-naked child: