Tuesday, July 30

Trailer Time

I've mentioned many times before that Mr. Lina makes movies in his spare time. I've had some involvement, occasionally sewing backdrops or props, more frequently feeding cast & crew or production meetings. Well, I have something to share.

The latest film is called Tasha and Friends and is finally done. It's taken a long time to come to this, filming started 11 months ago and Mr. Lina is starting to submit to festivals this week. They have created a T&F facebook page and to celebrate having 100 likes, they have launched the trailer for the film.

The girl who did the voice for Jingles (the pink puppet), wasn't available and given how long they spent getting the film ready, they didn't want to wait to reshedule the voice work for the trailer. So guess who was the only female in the house on the day they DID want to do the voice work?

Yep, that's me as Jingles.

Also, in the trailer you get about 1 second shot of a black pair of panties I made in a rather un-panty like way.

And a brief warning of what to expect, there are very quick cuts to lots of fake blood and latex gore, there is one line of dialogue with swearing. I wouldn't watch this with children around but it's not so bad to be offensive.

Tuesday, July 23

Check In

I have started posting a couple of times and I'm still struggling to find the right words.  I have so many trees that I'm struggling to see the forest.  Just so this isn't totally pictureless, I'm going to add a few vacation pictures from our time in Manitoba.  I came back to "bad things" and didn't really get to talk about our vacation.  It was very restful but I look tired in every picture.

In general, I'm doing quite well.  I've been able to focus at work most of the time.  I'm not a teary mess prone to negative thoughts, nor a complete space cadet (although I did leave my purse at home on Thursday).  I can see a little anger poking through now and again through sarcasm or self depreciating humour, but it's little peeks, not full blown craziness. 

Does this look like someone who slept 10 hours?

Physically, things are also good.  I pretty much fit back into my old bras.  The bruises on my abdomen are pale brown, if they were elsewhere you might think I missed a spot with sunscreen and have a strange tan line.  I somehow lost a little weight.  That has helped with my body acceptance.  I don't feel fat on top of not speaking to my uterus and I fit into another pair of pants.  I'm about 10lbs down from my high weight and looking at my book of measurements, my waist is the same size as it was in 2007 (granted it was an inch smaller in 2010, I still have a little ways to go).  I don't really have the resources to focus on weight loss, I'd just like to continue making wiser choices and keep an eye on my portion sizes.  I'm not in a rush and this seems to be working.

I am struggling to do some things I would have avoided while pregnant.  I guess to do some of these things I really have to be okay that it's done.  Really done-done.  This is where I see a little disconnect.  I'm not sad, I can talk about what happened and adoption, and yet I can't seem to accept a diet Coke or a glass of wine.  I am easing into these things and trying not to make a big deal of it either way (neither beating myself up for not being ready nor forcing myself to do it).  I'll get there.  I've had a few sips of Mr. Lina's beer and is it really such a bad thing to not have artificial sweetners?  Weight loss sure is easier if I'm not drinking a bottle of wine.

Mr. Lina is doing a little better too.  Not that we've talked much about the loss specifically, but we both seem to feel like we've said as much as we can on the previous losses and we are able to talk about what's next.  He is starting to say things that he will miss because we won't experience a new born baby.  It's a start.  When I went to see our therapist I went on my own.  I was worried at first she would think things weren't good with us, she's often commented on the strength of our relationship.  But she agreed with me, if he wasn't ready to talk to her, that's okay and it was okay for me to come on my own.  I'm pretty sure he's coming with me on Thursday for the second appointment.

Moving onto adoption is a big domino to over turn.  We had already said we would need to move, so naturally that's next on the to-do list.  (Side note, it's not Children's Aid Society/Family & Child Services (CAS/FACS depending on the region) that would require us to move, but this isn't our "with-kids-forever-house" and it's not fair to adopt siblings and realize 3 days in that there isn't enough space and putting them through more upheaval.  I'm not giving up my sewing room.)  I'm not sure how ready I am for that.  It's making me more likely to pitch things while cleaning up, but it's moving that makes me feel overwhelmed when I really think about it.  I'm not sure where we should go to, which employers we should focus on when picking a location, it's a lot to juggle and I don't like ruling out options.  Not to mention 9 years of crap in the house that needs to be dealt with.  I've packed up two clear 62L bins of fabric.  It sounds like a lot but it still leaves lots of fabric to work with should the muse strike.  I could probably fill two more and still have fabric out for a dozen projects.  Cleaning up my sewing room like this also made me realize just how many UFO's I have.  UFOs are something to contemplate another day.

In the meantime, I've ended up crocheting a lot.  Granted it's all the same blanket pattern that I made for my niece, but I find it soothing and it makes television time with Mr. Lina feel less... wasteful.  One project is in a white yarn that I'm not overly happy with.  It felt softer on the ball than in the project and it's made up BIG.  This is not going to be a baby sized blanket.  I need to buy another crappy ball of yarn because it's not long enough for the width and it's not so crappy that it isn't worth finishing.  So it's on hold for the moment.  While in Manitoba, I started a yellow blanket I'm happier with.  It's soft and the shells are smaller and popping to opposite sides nicely.  As much as I bought 3 balls of wool, I think I'll need a 4th, it's not getting a lot of height in the shells.  I put 27 shells across instead of 29 that the pattern calls for, but it is still going to need more rows to look balanced to the width.

And just a reminder that there will be a Toronto meet up on August 10th at 10am.  I am really looking forward to it.  FunnyGrrl is coming to town and the details are on her blog, Falling Through Your Clothes.  It looks like we're up to 9-10 people so far.

Wednesday, July 10


Thank you so much for all the comments on my last post.  I read each one as they arrived, it was like being surrounded by much needed love. 

I am doing...  okay.  Coping is maybe the best word.

Monday was a bit of a blur.  My parents met us at the clinic, the plan being they would take Mr. Lina to pick up his car that was in for warranty body work while we were gone.  When I walked out of the clinic, my mom was walking towards me and all I could do was shake my head and I was enveloped in a tearful hug.  Dad took Mr. Lina to get his car, Mom drove me home.  My parents stayed until about 3 and by that point I was still stunned, too stunned to really feel anything. 

Since they left, time has passed oddly, sometimes dragging, sometimes I'm surprised to find myself hungry again.  We had a 5 hour black out (6pm-11pm) thanks to the storm that hit Toronto.  This is much better than other areas of the city, a friend was without power for 24 hours and his last Facebook status indicated his neighbours across the street were still without power hours after his came back.  I have spent time on the phone with my parents talking about everything but "the m word".  My walking friend came over for a chat this morning.  People have emailed me, I have replied when I can.

My workplace has been fantastic.  On Tuesday morning, I sent an email to my manager and our director.  I told them I wasn't sure what kind of time I was going to need, this is about mental health more than physical.  Given that nothing developed, this has not been physically difficult.  Not without pain, but I have known worse.  We are so short handed at work and trying to train new people...  I know they need me.  And yet, in reply I was told by my director that I came first.  My health was more important and I should take whatever time I need.  I know this, but it is something I needed to hear so I don't rush back early with a false sense of guilt.  I am going to take it one day at a time, not looking too far ahead.  And today, the two of them sent me flowers.  Flowers.

My crazy hops plant, post trimming.
I am struggling to sleep.  I don't feel particularly tired during the day, I feel unsettled.  Sometimes I can sit and read, other times I need to putter - dusting at random, a single load of laundry, packing up my leftover medication, hacking at the explosion of plants (notably the hops above) and weeds in front garden, crocheting.  I bought a gift for my niece, her birthday is coming and it will take time to be shipped so far.  I lack focus.  I thought a house plant needed watering, I took the bottle I keep near it into the kitchen.  I don't remember exactly when I did that or what distracted me, but I found the water bottle full in the sink this afternoon.  I have had moments of crying, but not as many as you might think.  It's still a little surreal, this doesn't feel... final.  But I know it is.
Clearly more emotion could be aimed at the weeds in my roses.
Mr. Lina can't talk about it yet.  We cuddle, he holds me when I cry and we talked nonsense at 1am when neither of us could sleep.  He sends me lots of DVR times when the kittens are being cute to make me smile.  But for him, life is carrying on - he's gone to work, he's at a concert tonight with a friend.  His crazy director left the company, so he actually had something to celebrate yesterday.  And going on with "normal" is okay too, for now.  We often feel the impact and grief at different times, I know his time will come and I will be in a better state to help him when he gets there.  But he's not ready to listen to me either, and that is unusual.  On the plus side, I don't really have much to say yet.

I have booked an appointment to see our therapist tomorrow night.  Mr. Lina has a production meeting that has been cancelled three times (including Monday) that he would like to continue on with.  And that's fine.  I'm not sure he's ready to hear me talk anyhow and the first visit will be a lot of catch up on what's happened.  The rest of our appointments will be together, but I need to see her to start opening up a little more than stating facts like it's someone else I'm talking about.  She will be key to us getting real closure on this chapter of our lives.

One thing I am feeling is anger at my body.  I can't look at myself naked right now, no lingering between the shower and getting dressed.  This is going to sound irrational but it's the way I feel, no one said it had to be logical.  I'm angry at my breasts for lying to me and I don't want to observe the changes as they go back to normal.  I don't even want to support them with a proper bra.  I don't want to see the bruises on my abdomen that are a reminder of what I was doing to make this work.  I'm not speaking to my uterus, it should not be empty.  Writing that, thinking about that, acknowledging that there is intent behind my behaviour, that makes me feel something and tear up.  (But no, I will not end up a never nude like Tobias, I will like my breasts again when they fit in my very pretty bra.)

I guess this seems like a bit of a list.  As I say, it's like talking about someone else with the exception of the last paragraph.  The hard emotional work will come.

Monday, July 8


It was not to be.

I had a fantastic vacation.  I slept.  I swam.  I fished.  I crocheted.  I slept.  I felt pretty good.

But I had my 6 week ultrasound today and my uterus is empty.  There is no fetal pole there, no heart beat beyond my own.  So they ran blood work and sure enough, my HCG levels are down.  They aren't even making me come in to check again so it must be really low, they usually want to track it to lower than 5.

I'm numb.  I'm sad.  But I'm... okay.

I have been here before, I know I'll get through it.  I also know this blog will be part of getting past it.  I'll write more when I'm ready.  Believe you me, I'll be writing.