Well, this is awkward...I'm still here

It’s been awhile.  How fast the time goes! July? Already? WTF? If someone had told me 9 months ago that time heals all wounds and I’d eventually be around again to register my car for another year, feel the heat of another summer, and catch the latest season of True Blood (how long can they keep going with these ridiculous storylines anyway? Whatever. Eric Northman, I heart you, you big strapping Viking of a vampire) -  I’d have wanted to spit in their eye, bust their knee caps, and dance on their head while screaming, “KEEP YOURSELF TO YOURSELF, YOU WALKING CLICHÉ GENERATOR!”

Well, thank goodness I kept my limbs to myself because a lot of well meaning people who I adore delivered that message in various ways. Instead of responding or doing anything at the time, I simply remained quiet and filed their words away to the way, way back of my battered heart.

And now, I’m still here.  I still live and breathe. I will say that time doesn’t heal all wounds, though.  It doesn’t “get better”. It simply IS. You learn to live with the longing, the what-if’s, and the why’s.  You adjust your life around the heartache.  You adjust the heartache around your life. It’s like a never ending game of Jenga – you carefully build UP, UP, UP – never quite stable, always teetering on the edge of collapse. It takes focus.  It is exhausting.  It just IS.   

And while that raw, intense, unbearable pain no longer weighs like a thousand stones upon my heart – I still miss her every second that I am here living and breathing. That will never go away. I look for her in everything. I see her everywhere.

So, I've decided it’s time for an assessment of where I currently am in this crazy ass journey of life. It’s time to reflect and make some necessary changes. I always want to honor my girl. I want her to be proud of me. Sometimes I succeed. All the time, I need to work harder.

Here we go: 

1. I’m still baking: Little Bird’s Cookie Service does one to two big events a month, which is all I've been able to handle for now. I definitely need to be more aggressive with getting the word out, but I’ve had to take care of a few pressing matters (surgery to correct my errant cervix/fighting with insurance to get this procedure covered. The battle wages on!). In the meantime, a part-time opportunity has come up that I'm thinking about taking. It’s flexible enough that I'll still be able to work on Little Bird orders and even step it up a bit. It’s not an untruth that you need money to make money.  Butter is expensive. The good shit always is.

  

   2. Singing: This actually has been going well.  I’ve already done 4 Angels games this season and I still have 2 more to go, including any cancellations they may call me for. I still get the shakes before singing, but I know Ligaya is always with me. I wear a necklace that sports her little footprints right close to my heart. I always spot her on the field in some form – little birds, a butterfly, and a dragonfly have all flown right next to my head before I walk up to do the Anthem. It brings me so much peace right before the moment I lift my voice to sing. I lift my voice for her. There may be tens of thousands of people there, but I sing for her.

I’ve also started up with my old guitarist again. It’s been awhile, but we’re getting up to speed so we can start playing out like we used to.  And finally, I will be a music volunteer at different hospices and care facilities – just spending time with patients and sharing my voice and love of music. I hope I can bring comfort in some way to those who need it most.

 

3. Health: my cervix is now bionic (translation: what happened with Ligaya will NEVER happen again).  I flew to Chicago in May to have a transabdominal cerclage placed by one of the best surgeons in the United States. I don’t know what other issues may pop up in my next pregnancy, but it sure as hell isn’t going to be my cervix. That thing is not budging. Now I just have to get the rest of my body in order.

• Zumba: I hopped back on the party bus and rejoined the Latin Dance craze.  I was doing up to 2 hours a day for weeks until my damn calf muscle snapped during the warm-up a few days ago. Snapped like a rubber band. Snapped like a wet towel. Snapped like me at the IRS office (see below). So sad.  I love Zumba! It’s so fun! My goal is/was to become a certified instructor by the end of the year (or middle of next year). Doctor said recovery could take about a month, so I’m getting off the party bus for now and jumping in the pool for some aqua aerobics (in a few weeks when I’m able to walk without cursing)

• Aqua aerobics: I may be the youngest person in the pool, but don’t let the geriatric crew fool you.  They are intense. They are super adept at throwing shade and yelling “SHUSH”. They rock at Zumba, too. In time, I hope to be able to out-swim and out-twerk them (you haven’t lived until you’ve witnessed an 80-year old twerk as if her life depended on it. Miley Cyrus ain't got nothing on her. Unfortunately, while the rest of the class whooped, hollered, and pointed while thinking the old gal was simply dropping it like it was hot, her knee had actually given out. She really did drop.  She ended up being ok though….unlike me and my busted leg)

• Diet: Not so much. I have no problem salsa-ing, samba-ing and riding a water noodle for several hours a day (oh stop), but all of that hard work is often negated by the amount of food I cram down my throat. I need to stop.My cardiologist basically said I sucked and need to get my health in order, so I’m going to work on a little something called m-o-d-e-r-a-t-i-o-n. “Maintenance” should only apply once you hit your goal weight, not while you’re still at your fat weight.
  
  
  

4. Patience/Tolerance level (for idiots):  Slim to none. I was escorted out of the IRS office last week by security after a beyond epic meltdown in front of quite a lot of people.  After waiting over 6 hours to talk to someone, I got stuck with a real winner. People can blame it on culture or a language barrier, but asking questions about the nature of my daughter’s birth and death were not appropriate.  Asking if she was born with all her body parts (WTF) and telling me I basically had a miscarriage since I was only 6 months is not the way. NOT THE WAY.  Adding insult to injury, the dumb broad couldn’t even help me and told me I had to come back another day and wait all over again – she even said that I didn’t understand how the government worked in terms of timelines. BITCH, I WORKED FOR A COLLEGE FUNDED BY THE STATE OF CALIFORNIA FOR LIKE A MILLION YEARS! I KNOW HOW THE GOVERNMENT WORKS (does not work).  So I basically snapped. Like Amanda Bynes. Like Lindsay Lohan. Like an Amanda/Lindsay cray-nado.  Like my calf muscle.

After 6 hours of waiting in a crowded lobby, having no sustenance the whole day,and  having to explain that I did, in fact, deliver via c-section a “real baby, a beautiful baby girl who looked like her dad – one that we had a funeral for, that we buried in Corona del Mar and visit almost every day”, I exploded into a million fragments of mad and sad and furious and indignant and enraged.  I begged her to let me call Nate to ask him a question. As soon as I picked up the phone, security came to take me away. She said using a phone was against the rules and I was some kind of security threat because I refused to leave. Oh, the fury.

I’m not letting this go.  I’m waiting for a call back from her supervisor. I’ve also emailed two different departments at the IRS with my complaint. Oh, and Yelp -  a 1 star review, Santa Ana office – a 1 star review when I really mean 0, but that is not an option! There is no reason she should have been asking me questions like that.  Who in the hell asks a bereaved mother if her baby was born with a head and body?!? Jesus H.

How am I with everything else? Pretty good. I’ve managed to keep my stress level in check regarding most other things.

  

5.  Spending:  like a mofo.  Gotta work on this. There is no reason I should be having iced caramel macchiatos every day. They cost a grip. Plus, the extra caramel is against doctor’s orders (see #3). It's definitely been all kinds of weird not having a steady paycheck the last few months, but the peace of mind I've had since leaving that 9th circle of Hell of a job has been priceless. I really just have to do better with my cash.

Well, there it is - a brief update and assessment of the last few months. So many things to work on, but I will. I made a promise to Ligaya and I’m going to work harder than ever. No excuses. 

The leg situation makes things like mobility and coherent thought a little more difficult, but I won’t let it stop me. I got this. I even lifted weights (not quite like a boss) while lying on the couch yesterday. Unfortunately, I almost broke my back and required Nate’s immediate assistance. But other than that?  I got this. If this is my prison, then my leg is my bitch!

9 months – wow, it goes fast. Miss you every second of my existence, Little Bird. 

Love, Light, and Ligaya - CS