Wednesday, November 30, 2011

All About The NaNo...

This month has been a busy one.  The husband was away for 8 days.  I had surgery a week after.  Thanksgiving came a week after that and from day 1 of November I have been participating in NaNoWriMo - National Novel Writing Month where you're expected to write 50,000 words in 30 days on an original novel project.

Writing straight through without stopping. 1667 words a day.

This is my third year participating.  I didn't finish but I came closer to the goal than I ever have at over 30,000 words.  

I am left with a sense of rejuvenation and a consistency in writing that I have not had in a looong time.

With a momentum  in my writing that I plan to keep up in the coming months.

Not to mention a good 150 pages of an original novel draft. Yippee...

So though I didn't get the win, it's been an amazing experience with amazing results.

I am left with some things more important than the win.

Truly unexpected, NaNo has meant more to me and my writing this year than the previous two years.

I almost didn't participate.  So glad I did.

So that's been my November.  

Congratulations to all my NaNo peeps who finished.  Kudos!

And to the rest of the participants, like me, who didn't finish, kudos to you too, for putting forth the effort.  We are closer to finishing that novel than we were at the start of the month.   Happy Dance! 

Did you participate in NaNoWriMo?  How was your experience this year?

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Recovery and Reflection

I had that surgery - a laparoscopy and I am now recovering.  No driving or heavy lifting for a week and that especially includes the 25 pound toddler.  I should be fully healed in two.

I am sore.  I tire easily.  I have three incisions with three sets of stitches to heal from.  It reminds me of those days after I gave birth where all the steps I took where gingerly so there would be less pressure on the pelvic area and how much I dreaded going to the bathroom because it hurt.

The surgery went well and I didn't have to have the fallopian tube removed.  It was discovered that the mass I had was not on the tube at all but on my ovary.  So the mass has been sent away to pathology and she will call in a few days with the results -- hopefully it will be negative for cancer.  Praying and crossing all fingers.

I still have my fallopian tube.

I am still the woman I was before the surgery.

Amazing that a moment or situation can cause one to reflect like I did on my last post.

It was good for me.  I needed that self-reflection...that reminder of what really makes me who I am as a woman.  A reminder not to get caught up in the physical aspects that make me who I am.

Vulnerability feels prickly but it is good for this girl who plays down everything.

Thank you for your words of encouragement during that most vulnerable time for me last week, on this blog, on my Facebook page, via email.  So good for me.  So what I needed to help me through the emotion I felt.

Onto the next thing: Thanksgiving Dinner.   My oldest son's favorite holiday.  Luckily I just have to make the list, he and his Dad will make the rest. 

And the next round of reflections will be on what I am thankful for...

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

PYHO: Losing My Womanhood?

This Thursday, I am going in for surgery to possibly (strong possibility) to remove one of my fallopian tubes.  There is a sizeable mass either in or on the tube itself and the doctors want to remove it.  They don't think it's cancerous but they won't really know until they go in and see.

I'm a little scared.

A lot apprehensive.

I'm ready to back out.

This fallopian tube is a part of my reproductive cycle.  It's an organ that physically and specifically defines my womanhood, like my uterus.   To not have it anymore is a daunting prospect.  It's a part of me, after all.

The doctor is decisive as is my husband.  If the mass is in the tube, the tube has to go.   Goodness forbid if this mass causes my fallopian tube to rupture.   That would mean emergency surgery and we wouldn't want that.

No, I think.  We wouldn't but then taking my fallopian tube means it causes my chances of getting pregnant to take longer.   And what if you affect something else in that area?  Cause damage of some kind that limits my chances of getting pregnant again?

Not that the hubby and I are planning to have anymore children -- at least we're 98% sure of that.

But still,  what about the 2%? I think.   It's nice to have the choice.

Only one tube.

Will I be half a woman because part of what defines me physically as a woman will be gone?

I know the answer to that.  Physical body parts and organs aren't the only thing that make me the woman I am.   I know.

But still it's hard not to feel that I will be less the woman I am physically because part of my reproductive system will be gone.  That area will not be whole ever again.

So I'm sad.  Grieving a little...over the loss of part of my womanhood; over the possible loss of the opportunity to be able to bear children again; over the fact that my reproductive system will not be whole.  A huge piece will be missing from it.

I know I shouldn't feel sad.

I know I should just focus on the three beautiful boys I have, but I can't help think that this could be the end of my childbearing times.

I'm just saying.

I am grateful for my life - wish feverently that this mass is not malignant and that I go through the surgery with no complications.

As I work through being okay with only having a part of my reproductive cycle.

According to my husband, the "healthy" part.

He's 100% right.

I'll just need to have my moment to grieve.

I promise it won't be a long moment and I will come out of it grateful for the blessings I have.

Pouring my heart out at Shell's...


Tuesday, November 15, 2011

A Featured Post...

Today I have written a post featured in the magazine over at Studio30 Plus, an amazing community for writers and bloggers who are thirty years and older.  

Feel free to stop over and visit. Any comments you leave would definitely be appreciated as I'd love to read your thoughts.  It's about a topic that is close to my heart right now.

And for you writers and bloggers who are thirty - cough!, check out the site.  Join us.  It's an amazing community to be a part of.

Thanks much!  

Monday, November 7, 2011


"Sorry.  We've...we've decided to get back together."

The words were in the back of my mind as I entered the local bar/dance club on 145th street between Amsterdam and Broadway in Harlem with my friend.  They were from the man I had fallen in love with and were spoken to me just a couple of days ago.   He went back to his girlfriend of eight years.

A dance club mix of Michael Jackson's Billie Jean emanated throughout the club.  As my friend and I walked towards the center of the room, the rhythm and beats pulsated from the walls.

It was dark and packed with gyrating bodies.  Within minutes, my girlfriend became entwined with her boyfriend.

I yearned to be wanted.  To have someone desire me.

He was dancing in the corner of the dance floor and looking at me.  Tall like my ex, yet fair-skinned with an easy grin on his face.  He started dancing his way over to me.

He held his hand out towards me.

I couldn't resist the invitation because the beats were flowing through me, urging me to move.  And because this tall, good-looking guy with the laid-back smile held his hand out to me.

He wanted me.

I took his hand and he led me not only to the dance floor, but later, in the weeks to come,  to his apartment, to his room and to his bed.

And that continued.

Me, feeling desired, sought-after, then empty because whenever we came together, it was about the same thing.

Yet, it didn't matter because this tall, handsome, charmer wanted me.   Though it was clear in his distant eyes and his rushed manner when we were done spending time together, that he really wanted something else.

So four weeks later, I sat on the floor of my room, holding the phone in my hand after dialing him for the fourth time in a row.  He had picked up then.

"Mel, we're done, baby.  This is not going to work,"  he said in his lazy drawl.

His words echoed through my head as I sat staring at the blue carpeted floor through hot, flowing tears.

Of course, it wasn't going to.

This relationship was doomed from the start.

This piece was inspired by a memoir prompt from Write on Edge which asks you to write about a relationship that you knew was doomed from the start.  

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

While The Honey Is Away...


While you are away, I will take a deep breath and fully care for our three sons, ages 6, 4 and 1, meeting their every milk and snack demand which comes once every hour, a few times unwisely so, just because I will need a few moments of quiet and three yelling voices is not conducive to a joyful Mommy.

I will do the school drop-offs you usually do, though this newbie driver may bow out of driving in the most extreme snow conditions - like today, for instance. It's an unofficial snow day, by the way.  The boys aren't complaining and they should be at school tomorrow.  I hope.

I will pray for lots of patience and creativity.

I will read to them and pray with them before bed like you do, though I'll have only one brain cell left and will barely be able to concentrate.

I will endure the cries of "Daddy" from the 19 month old whenever we pass by the front door. "Daddy will be home soon" I will say about 100 times before next week.

I will try to avoid the doctor's office and any run-ins the law.  Thank goodness our car registration is up to date.

Though I get the whole bed to myself, I will miss the cuddling. The cat is trying to take your place.

Oh, I will try to remember to take care of the cat - though there's only so much my one brain cell can handle.

I will hope to have nutritious meals on the table for your sons, however we may be rocking the hotdogs alot.  And the mac n' cheese.  And the halloween candy.  Yes, seriously.  Feel free to cringe.

We will survive, I promise, and I will have the boys greeting you in one piece with all their fingers and toes and teeth and not so many bumps and bruises when you return in a week.

That's my hope, anyway.

Most importantly, while you are away, I will try not to miss you too much.

Okay, fat chance of that happening.  I am really missing you terribly right now.


In fact, when I'm done writing this, I will probably go and have a good, aching cry.   Ugh!

And then I will have some coffee and try to refocus.

Enjoy your trip, love, and I can't wait to see you again soon.