The house of my past lives

Last night I had this bizarre dream, it was like a collection of all of these things that have happened to me over the course of my life, and each one of them had their own room inside the house. What was even weirder about it was that those things, like my first real boyfriend/heartbreak for example, were there in an updated state. Like for example, I just happen to know that this guy, the one who first broke my heart, is getting married this weekend...so in the dream, he was there in the house, with his own room, but with his soon-to-be-wife. Then, this girl that I used to be really good friends with, who totally ditched me in the end, she was there with her new husband, in her own room, doing her own thing, but it was all updated.
It's weird because obviously I have no desire to be back at those times in my life... right. (?) I don't get it. I think I get like this, sort of nostalgic but not nostalgic at the same time, whenever H is not around. Lately, he's been working at nights and I feel like I haven't talked to him in weeks, literally...and I feel like that because it's true. He went to visit Savannah the first week of February and now he's been working nights ever since, so we really haven't seen each other except in passing since then...it's totally sucking. And so what happens to me whenever he works like that is that I start to feel this big fat void in my life, and then anything and everything starts to look like a possible filler.
It's totally stupid, I know, but that's how it is. I just thought that the dream was so interesting, because I am constantly thinking about my past "lives" and how they play into who I am now and the things I do now. I am constantly wavering between feeling this complete disconnect between the past me(s) and the present me, while at the same time feeling such a strong connection to them, and to those times in my life, that I can't seem to move forward. I wish these were things that people felt comfortable talking about, because I think it would be very nice to have a comparison for myself.
I remember once when I was younger telling someone much older than I was that I felt like I was going crazy. That person told me: "don't worry, you're not going crazy....people who go crazy don't realize that they're going crazy. It's only normal to wonder if you're already crazy or if you're going to be crazy." Back then I thought that was such a novel idea, but now, I get it. It doesn't really apply here in the sense of insanity, but it does apply in the sense that it would be nice to know, in any area, what is "normal". I just wish that we could have more open conversations about things in general, just to see what the "normal human experience" is. I am not saying that I suppose that everyone out there is having dreams about houses with rooms filled with memories from the past, but I just want to know: is it so unusual to feel these things I feel?
Am I so bizarre for keeping my memories housed up, locked into rooms, only letting them free in my dreams?

I'm so stupid

Just like last time, I'm up on a menstrual cycle and I'm freaking out. It's totally stupid and I am totally stupid. I've been reflecting a lot on what has been happening to me lately, and it's brought me to the following conclusions: (1) I need some time before I get ready to start trying to have a baby again, I need to repair, (2) I have to get control of my life, externally and internally, before I can feel confident that I can handle whatever comes to me (baby or another miscarriage), and (3) controlling my weight can help me do that.
So I've joined Weight Watchers (again) and I'm trying really really hard to follow it to the tee. It makes me feel better to focus my energy on something else besides these miscarrriages, although I have to admit that this impending period has totally gotten me on edge. Why do they have to be so similar? It's too much to deal with, and according to H's advice, I've taken a pregnancy test today just to reassure myself that it's not another miscarriage and it's not...I mean, the test was negative. But even still, I feel freaked out.
The thing is this: I have all this stress in my life, what with the Comps and my other classes and then the miscarriages on top of that. I think I need time to decompress and relax a little bit before I start trying to add more and more things into my life. I hate saying that, because each day that goes by I'm just getting older, but it has to happen. I'm tired of being tired and I'm tired of being a cow, or at least feeling like one, so I have to take control. And I have.
That, at least, makes me feel better. I've also decided to start Yoga once a week again, to at least take some time to myself to try and blow off some steam. Working out is great and it gets rid of a lot of stress, but the reality is that only Yoga has been able to help me manage my stress in the past, and I'm ready to try it again.
I haven't blogged in a while because I have so many other blogs going that I rarely get to this one any more, not to mention that I've just started another one specifically dedicated to my weight-loss struggles. It's my new tactic, but we'll see how it works. For now, I'm feeling a bit better since I've started to get back under control....oh, and Louis and Virginia are flourishing beautifully. I'll put a picture up soon...

The circle of life

H and I have been trying to decide on the most appropriate way to mourn, and simultaneously commemorate, those poor babies that I lost. I honestly wasn't expecting this feeling to stick with me for so long, but it's nearly never left my mind since the whole thing(s) happened. I've heard of a lot of people doing things like burying the fetal tissue or something like that, but I have to admit that it's always sounded a bit weird to me. Even now when I think about it, it's hard to imagine me doing that, especially since it would have involved keeping the tissue, or recovering it from the toilet. I mean, it's just not for me.

We did say a (very tearful) prayer over the tissue before I flushed it, so I guess that counts a little. But the thing that has been haunting me endlessly is this idea that there are two children whose lives will never come to fruition and whose faces I'll never get to see, even though they belonged to me. It's hard to accept, and it torments me. Every time I see a baby I just get this feeling deep in my chest, similar to the sensation of hearing nails run down a chalkboard, it just sends shivers down my spine and makes me dizzy and nauseated all at the same moment.

So, after talking about it for a while and trying to figure out how to get some sort of closure (at least SOME), we've decided to plant a couple of trees. I guess it works out, though, because if those little beans had grown to be full adults, and then they died one day after a long life, their bodies would have most likely become food for plants, just like all the rest of our bodies will. So I guess we're just commemorating their contribution to the circle of life by growing trees, it's just unfortunate that their circles were so prematurely closed. I can't think about it too much or I start to get upset, so instead I'll talk about the trees.

We decided to buy citrus trees, since they could flower and bear fruit, and they could most likely live for quite a while...maybe not as long as a human, but a while....longer than my little ones got to live anyway. So here they are:

They haven't been potted yet, so I'll have to make another post for that, but it makes me feel good to have them. It sounds stupid, but it sort of curbs my sorrow and disappointment about the miscarriages to know that there are still two new living things in this house, and that they represent those other two non-living things that were never able to begin their lives here. Maybe it's a little weird, but I feel like I can put all the energy of caring for them and watching them grow that I would have put into my little beans into these plants...and the fact that they bear fruit makes me even more excited.

I realize that it's just a symbol, but it's a very important symbol to me, and it's helping me to cope with these feelings of insignficance and depression that I feel like I'm fighting daily. Each one of the plants is beautiful in a different way, and I've given them names. The taller one is Louis...he's a Key Lime tree, and guess what? He's already got two limes on him (photo to the right)!! The shorter and prettier one (sorry Louis!) is called Virginia and she's got pretty little pink tips on her, with yellow and green leaves. She's a Pink Lemon tree and her fruit will be striped green and yellow, with pink flesh. I'm really excited about seeing what her fruits look like. She doesn't have any yet, but you can still see how pretty her leaves are from the picture to the left. They are both very small plants right now, but I'm hoping that once I transplant them, they'll be able to stretch their legs and grow some. They should do well indoors, but I'll probably put them outside during the day to let them feel the sunlight on their leaves.

I'm not sure what a psychiatrist would tell me about all of this, but honestly, I couldn't care less. Right now, all I'm worried about is doing what I need to do to keep myself sane and to get some closure...and I'm just trying to focus on a future filled with good, sweet fruit.