our front yard

purple texas sage, a photo by Digital Heather on Flickr.

So this is what we woke up to this morning.

We have three of these purple Texas sage bushes in our front yard, but the other two are much smaller. This one needs a serious trim. When we moved in, it barely crept past the bottom of my office window and now I can barely see out of it.

This is the purplest it has been in the 8 months we've lived here. It's usually just green and in the past has flowered a few times but never like this. It's so pretty. I can't bring myself to trim her if she keeps looking so pretty. Hopefully we won't get a dumb letter from our dumb HOA.

the positive pieces and opportunities

escalator, a photo by Digital Heather on Flickr.

So my urban exploration / photography opportunity was awesome. I don't think I've ever explored an abandoned building before. I went with a friend and a group of local amateur photographers, otherwise I would have been too scared to go.

I took this photo yesterday. It's from an abandoned horse trotting park that's a few minutes from my house. It's been closed down since the 60s. It has an eeriness that beckons you from the interstate as you drive by. I've been itching to check it out since we moved to this side of the valley 8+ months ago.

I didn't get murdered. We didn't even see homeless people. It was incredibly hot and stunk with tons and tons of bird and bat droppings-- but I got some pretty decent pics. I'd like to go back when it's cooler and during a different time of day.

I realized last night that I would have never had this adventure if I was still pregnant. Traipsing around in asbestos and feces in an unstable building wouldn't have happened. So while a miscarriage can be devastating, you have to find the positive pieces and opportunities, keep finding them, and be thankful for them.

Check out the rest of my photos from the park here.

grown up things

07272013, a photo by Digital Heather on Flickr.

I want to buy everything from World Market from now on. They have the best everything. I wish I had an extra 800 bucks laying around for their beautiful bureaus and dressers. I settled for clearance jewelry and some two-tone heart-shaped ramekins.

I'm going to photograph an abandoned horse track tomorrow. It's just up the interstate from our home. There's something very haunting and depressing about it. It's been abandoned since the 60s. My husband says murderface is going to get me. I'm taking my friend Jeff and meeting up with other local photographers. Just in case.

I've known Jeff since 2005. Hanging out together used to mean setting things on fire-- like Spongebob pinatas. Sounds juvenile, I know. Do people still do things like that in their twenties? We did. We're older now. So we do grown up things, I guess. I'm excited to see him. We used to work together years ago and hang out all the time. We rarely see each other these days. I last saw him when I was hospitalized for my second overdose. That was barely four months ago but it feels like so much more time than that has passed. In a good way.

waffles for dinner

Mickey Mouse Waffles, a photo by Digital Heather on Flickr.

Jason and I went grocery shopping yesterday. I had a strict list we were adhering to.

A Mickey Mouse Waffle Iron was not on that list. It was too cute and too on sale to pass up. We came home so excited that we made waffles for dinner.

I've avoided waffle irons in the past because:

+would we really use it?
+it's a messy appliance
+I don't want to clean it
+The batter sticks
+Waste of money
+etc

I was wrong. At least when it comes to this one. It was so easy to use. So easy in fact that my husband made the waffles himself. The iron stayed clean and not a single waffle stuck. It's also a small appliance so storage won't be an issue.

I love it so much :) <3

the hanky pankies

frozen blueberries, a photo by Digital Heather on Flickr.

I'm still on my smoothie kick. I get a kick out of the pretty little crystals that always grow on my blueberries so finally took a pic.

I had my post-op follow up. Everything is normal and or as expected. Well except a bladder infection-- but that's normal too. I didn't even know I had it. Usually infections like that have me writhing in pain but this one was a nice guy, I guess. Or girl. Oh well. Three days of antibiotics to kick it out and hopefully no subsequent yeast infections. My vagina can be a real bitch.

Got the green light for the hanky pankies but CANNOT get pregnant for at least two cycles. It'll be hard to resist but I'm glad I read up on it.

Lots of dumb women on forums admit their doctors told them to wait a few cycles before getting pregnant, but they waited just a few days and got pregnant again just to miscarry. Again.

Are you an idiot? (Not you, of course. Them.) I refuse to be an idiot if I can help it.

a hint of white trash

sunburn2013, a photo by Digital Heather on Flickr.

I got such a bad sunburn the other day. I'm a grown adult. I know better. Yeah yeah yeah. Fresh cold aloe from my garden makes everything better.

My birthday was uneventful. My husband made me a beautiful hot mess of a birthday cake. My friend treated me to a manicure. The end. It was really like any other day. Oh well.

My parents' house is almost done. It's been about 6 months since the water damage. Multiple repairs had to be done twice because the jokers that were contracted by the insurance company screwed up so many times. They had to rip out an entire ceiling and do it again because they rushed the job and the first new ceiling came out cracked everywhere. It's been such a joke.

The moral of the story is... I really need to get that Star Wars tattoo touched up. It's getting a hint of white trash to it.

under control

lovenox, a photo by Digital Heather on Flickr.

So I picked up my 30 day supply of lovenox the other day. I inject it every 12 hours into my stomach-- so that's 60 needles. Actually it's the generic for Lovenox, Enoxaparin Sodium Injection. Our insurance covers every penny, otherwise it would cost over 4 thousand dollars for every month's supply. Yes. $4,000+. It's so much money. Blah.

I'm content staying on this for as long as they'll let me. I did Coumadin (which is a pill) for two years before this and I've been injecting now for about 3 months. I can't take Coumadin while pregnant, so I'd rather just stay on this from now til that happens and then continue instead of playing musical medicines.

People always ask me if it hurts. It does. The needle is small, so it could be much worse. After these past few months, I'm developing little areas of scar tissue in my stomach where I can no longer feel the needle go in anymore. The actual medicine hurts though too. It burns. I guess like poison? I have no frame of reference. Actually like a bee sting. It burns like that. And then for about 30 minutes after, I feel like I got punched in the stomach. Then it goes away and I do it again 12 hours later.

In the beginning, I couldn't do it and my husband had to. When we got the news that there might be something wrong with the baby, I told myself to just get over my hangup and do it for the baby. And I did. It still grosses me out. It's hard to do to yourself, especially when it hurts.

All of this probably sounds dumb when I have tattoos and slit my wrists both times I overdosed. Phlebotomists always make some kind of comment. "If this hurts, how do you have that giant tattoo?" But it's different. And I also don't remember doing what are now scars on my wrists and arms-- so I guess it didn't hurt at the time? Who knows. Your guess is as good as mine.

But I do know that I'll have to take some kind of blood thinner, whether it's a pill or these needles, for the rest of my life. I have two blood clotting mutations. Factor II and lupus anti-coagulant mutation. They affect how my blood clots. I didn't know I was so special until I wound up in the hospital a few summers ago with 15 blood clots in my lungs. It happened one more time after that but for the most part I can keep it under control.

a monsoon hangover

My husband made this yesterday while I was working on my office and I totally love it.  The Man of Steel theme is so good-- it could make me want to watch just about any movie.  I already love the Star Trek reboots, so I don't need any extra coaxing.  I wasn't really a fan of Man of Steel though.  Especially not a fan of my girl Amy Adams as Lois Lane.  I had high hopes and she just didn't do it for me.  I think Michael Shannon as Zod was great though.  That man just has the face of a villain and while seeing Man of Steel a couple weeks ago, I just kept thinking... "I can't wait for Boardwalk Empire to start up again this fall!"  His story line in the show as Nelson Van Alden was always good but never particularly grabbed me in earlier seasons.  I'm excited to see what happens with him though.  In hindsight, I've enjoyed watching him crossover and evolve as a person.  This last season, I found myself rooting for him and wanting everything to work out.

Okay enough pop culture.

I have a monsoon hangover.  This time in Arizona we have some pretty intense storms-- haboobs, microbursts, etc.  I enjoy a good storm.  I love to watch lightning and fall asleep to the sound of rain drops.  My husband and dog don't.  They both hate storms, especially lightning and thunder.  Our dog Bowie gets so upset.  So if starts storming when we're sleeping, we're usually up for the night at that point.  We take turns comforting the dog.  One or both of us will be in some kind of physical discomfort the next day from laying in a weird position or place for the sake of keeping the dog calm.  We've had Bowie for 5 summers now.  We've come to call the day after effects a monsoon hangover.  I have the most monster headache and feel absolutely drained of even the slightest energy.

There are a lot of things that are just not getting done today.

a typical girl

self pics july 2013, a photo by Digital Heather on Flickr.

In case there was any doubt... I really am a typical girl. I take pictures of myself and then over-edit them in instagram. I haven't done it in awhile though and felt compelled to share because I felt pretty today. Also, a lot of my "recent" pics are old. My hair is so long compared to last summer when it was boy short. Is it just me or do these pics look like ads for Ray Bans? Tell me about it. :)

pretty makeovers

crafting cans, a photo by Digital Heather on Flickr.

I've been pretty motivated to finish my office. I started painting a bookcase with chalk paint and gave some cans pretty makeovers. We actually rarely have cans like this to use. We do fresh fruits and veggies instead of canned (but I'm a sucker for that peach syrup). I'm gonna grab a few more at the store next time specifically for this. Whatever food happens to be in the can is just a bonus.

time passes

little and big Bowie, a photo by Digital Heather on Flickr.

I came across a memory card from 2008 with pictures of Bowie on it. We had just gotten her as a puppy. I don't remember her having the black around her eyes but I guess she did. She still has the three white shapes between her eyes, which we always called her "saguaro." The pic on the right is a recent one. She steels my spot when I get up to go the bathroom or get a drink during the night.

Cleaning my office is like cleaning my bedroom as a kid. I pick something up and look at it or read it and time passes and nothing gets done. It'll happen.

I'm ready to do something awesome that I couldn't do if I was still pregnant. Like get my nose pierced or go to Disneyland.

not 15 anymore

cold birthday candles, a photo by Digital Heather on Flickr.

My birthday is in one week. That means I have 7 days left to organize my office. But more importantly, it means I'm not buying candles for my cake this year. I told my husband that instead of buying candles, we're just going to use whatever neon candles are leftover in the frig from my birthday last year (or two years ago) -- no matter how many that might be. I counted today and there are 15. So I'm going to be 15 again. Yay.

I didn't think I would, but I'm starting to get bummed out a bit. My husband and I are the same age but his birthday is 6 months before mine. Half of the year he's older (kind of) and the rest of the year we're the same age (kind of). It's not complicated but I'm probably complicating it and I'm sure I explain this every year. I just enjoy that my husband and I share our birth year. It's like we grew up together in so many ways even though we didn't meet until we were 20.

Okay so back to getting bummed out. Every year, every January I should say, my husband gets bummed out about his birthday and getting older. I tell him to knock it off and stop being a baby. He says he looks old. I tell him he looks hot. Same thing every year. Then come summer time when it's my turn, I get a little bummed out at the taste of the same medicine. So here we are. Although I don't think I look old. I feel old, but that's another story. I'm mostly happy with how I look for my age. I want to lose a few pounds but other than that I'm pleased. No one ever thinks I'm as old as I am. I get mistaken for a teenager at least once a week. It's going to be awesome when I'm 60. I'm pretty sure I've said that exact line in this blog every year for a birthday post or pre-birthday post like this. Ugh.

I hate feeling old. My body has not been kind. Genetics have not been kind. But all of that aside I just hate memories that make me feel old. This is probably going to sound dumb. I recently saw pictures online of Trent Reznor and Marilyn Manson. The first has gotten fat while the latter just looks so old. It's sad. It hurts me to say it, but it's the truth. And if they're old, then so am I. And while I may only have 15 candles on my cake this year, I'm certainly not 15 anymore.

This is life.

hydrocodone, a photo by Digital Heather on Flickr.

I take back what I said about this being easy.

Last night was especially horrible. I'm trying to deal with the pain without taking medicine, if I can. I try to just sleep it off or occupy my mind but it's difficult. I even pulled out my sewing machine for the first time since 2009. I don't understand but it's like a stronger, delayed pain. My surgery was five days ago. Maybe my endo coming back from the dead for revenge-- who knows.

These pills look different with their polka spots, but I know them. The dots make them appear almost dessert-like. Actually they look like breath mints. I over-dosed on these, or their non-spotted cousins earlier this year. So it feels strange taking them. Granted, that time I took 50, but still. They also gave me zofran, another drug from my overdose. It's an anti-nausea medicine. When I was out of my mind and trying to end my life, I figured all of that hydrocodone would make me go to bed and not wake up. I worried about my body waking up and vomiting it out so I figured the zofran would help. I was so out of my mind and didn't know what I was doing in more ways than one. It's not like I had planned any of it or even googled what to do or not do. Acetaminophen overdoses are, as my nurse later told me, "a fucked up, long and brutal way to die." I didn't know at the time, but if my attempt was unsuccessful, I might have needed a new liver instead. For the record, it was 50 hydrocodone, 100 Tylenol, a dozen zofran and half a bottle of rum. The first time.

I've avoided all medicines since April, so all of this is just weird. I also avoided alcohol too. Except I began to drink a daiquiri on the 4th and immediately stopped when I tasted the rum. This week has just been a series of little deja vu... I guess we'll say monsters since they're not really triggers. Too many to actually name and catalog.

I think I finally stopped bleeding from the D and C. It lasted about five days, tapering off at the end. Just like a period. I'm so thankful because I forgot how ridiculous giant pads are.

It's startling how many people suffer with depression or struggle with suicide and how many women deal with infertility and miscarriages. It bothers me that no one talks about it. I didn't know that most of my friends also attempted suicide until they found out about me. I wish I had known. I wish I could have helped them. I wish they could have helped me. But not talking about it helps no one. The same is true for sharing my miscarriage. If it weren't for women posting online what happens or what to expect, where would we be? My doctor and mother couldn't tell me what kind of physical pain to expect from my surgery.

So that's why I say the things I do. Keeping quiet for appearances or the neighbors or my in-laws is just ridiculous. This is life.

what my body thinks

Paintings at St. Joseph's, a photo by Digital Heather on Flickr.

I can't explain why, but these paintings give me a mild case of the jibblies. And I guess a mild case of nostalgia for a time I couldn't possibly remember. But I feel like I've seen them in a first person shooter hallway in a war-torn or post-apocalyptic video game setting that I never finished playing. They actually hang in a hallway that leads to the surgical unit. I've seen them before but finally took a picture earlier this week when I went in for my procedure.

Surgery was okay. I started bleeding right before and had to deal with about 45 minutes of intense pain before the anesthesiologist came in and first drugged me, then knocked me out. I woke up in a world of (more) pain. It was actually more painful than I imagined it would be-- but only for the first 24 hours or so. I also woke up without a voice because I had a breathing tube during surgery that did a number on my throat.

By the next morning, I felt mostly better. My voice came back. I only needed pain medicine once or twice a day instead of every four hours. I had some painful urination for a few days because I was catheterized during surgery, but other than that, this whole thing was pretty easy.

My family came and stayed for a few days to watch me while my husband worked. It was a nice little break/visit. Now it's just me and the dog, back to our regular quiet routine.

I want to get some work done today, but I guess we'll see what my body thinks. In a day or two I'd like to start exercising. I was happy with my body a couple weeks ago, but that was different. We have to wait two cycles before we try again so I might as well do something while I'm doing nothing.

Miss Independence

Sparklher, a photo by Digital Heather on Flickr.

Happy birthday America. You my girl.

Also I love photographing sparklers, so any excuse for that is always aces.