Looked at my titles today, they seem to get increasingly morbid....this one isn't different.

I went to the doctor and found out some terrible, life-shaking news. I hadn't written about it before, because I didn't know what to write,or what to say.

My doctor says I have something called moderate dysplasia. Also known as the first stage of cervical cancer.

It isn't all that bad, and chances of recovery are pretty okay.

But at this time, things are uncertain. They want to wait to operate, because if I did it now, I'd lose too much blood, and my baby would come too early. Definitely don't want that.

I really don't know what else to say. Right now, I'm still wading through the family talks. I feel so numb-and my family is shaken.

So yeah. THere it is. I've gotten it out. I'm gone be neutral on this post. Still waiting for the shock to pass.

Keep us in your thoughts. Steve's having a hard time with it.

Accent:Idahoan......or something

Booze: Heh, since I'm pregnant, none. But I personally like vodka.

Chore I hate: Clothes. I hate them.

Dog or Cat: Either. I love all furries.

Essential Electronics: Coffee machine. Computer. Alarm clock.

Favorite Shaving Cream: I use soap

Gold or Silver: White gold or silver. Gold itself is gaudy.

Hometown: Northern Idaho. Still in the same town I was born in.

Insomnia: Only since I became 8 months pregnant.

Job Title: Inbound Sales and Service Agent

Kids: One on the way!

Living Arrangements: Apartment with Steve.

Most Admirable Traits: My curly hair. A lot of people like it.

Number of Sexual Partners: 4-5. Can't remember.

Overnight Hospital Stays: When I was born. None since.

Phobias: Death, ripped off fingernails, spiders.

Quote: "Shnitzel!"

Religion: Follower of God. I believe God. I hate church.

Siblings: 8. 5 sisters, 3 brothers.

Time I Wake Up: 5:30-6:00. AM.

Unusual Talent or Skill: I have a double jointed arm.

Vegetable I Love: Corn.

Worst Habit: Subconciously touching my face-makes me break out.

X Job I Hated: Working at McD's. Everyone hated me. It was my first job, and I was stupid enough to let everyone walk all over me.

Yummy Foods I Make: corn bread muffins, unleavened bread, french toast, scalloped potatoes.

Zodiac Signs: Leo. Roar.

1 thing I like about where I live: The scenery. So many people call in and tell me my hometown is so gorgeous.

2 people who rub me the wrong way: Tina and Carrey

3 foods I can't stand: Meatloaf, Stuffing, Liver

4 hobbies I love: playing violin, scrapbooking, blogging, singing

5 places I wish I could go: Scotland, Ireland, Japan, Italy, Disneyland.

6 movies I thought were retarded: master of disguise, bring it on, the disney version of Madagascar, Pokemon the Movie, anything past the 1st Land Before Time, the woogles movie premiere.

7 people I know will read this: Sophist, Forrest, AM, uh.....psh. I dunno.

8 things I want for my birthday: A blow drier with a diffuser on it. Electric mixers. New pots and pans. Scrap booking stuff. a puppy. Decorations for the bed room. A large gift card to Ross. bacalava.

9 people who ought to be shot: *sigh* I dunno. I know certain governmental heads out to be paintballed, but shot? Not sure.

10 animals I wish would have been left off the ark: Mosquitos. Flying ants. Poisonous snakes. Black widow spider. and anything else that annoys me. Gnats.

I took this great picture of Steve today, you want to see it!

Well, maybe you don't, but i think he looks hot in it-and his eyes are perfect! *gah*

I don't know whats wrong with me.
I'm taking Zoloft, and I'm taking prenatals. I work at CP. My man is spectacular to me, and tries so hard to make me smile.

The night before last, I pulled a stupid, and it snowballed from there.

Lately I've been physically frustrated with Steve. Because of my hormones, I want and want, and Steve isn't exactly a sex happy type of guy. He's happy with, like, 3 times a month. Me? I need at least 1 a week or more. So it frustrates me just a bit.

Night before last, I was denied-again-and I was simmering. He got up to go on the computer, after holding me for a while. And while he was getting into it, I was stewing about how sick I was of being turned down. He only cared about himself, I rationalised. The more I thought, the more pissed I became.

Finally I sat up and grabbed pillows, and he just kinda looked at me. He asked me what was wrong, and I didn't say anything. He told me he loved me, and I said not physically.
He was really befuddled. I grabbed my pillows, and slept on the bed in the spare bedroom. Of course, I cried a whole lot, like I have been for 4-5 days.
The next morning he warily came in to wake me up for work. I was overwhelmingly depressed. Everything sucked. We apologised to each other and then-it happened. I just....snapped.

I'm not really sure what it was, but suddenly, nothing was right. I got everything off my chest: the sexual tension, the overwhelming chores, work, bills, and the stress was killing me.
I started to cry as I explained that I didn't know who I was. I didn't know what had happened to me. I cried and said I didn't know what had happened to me, but it scared me. A lot. I didn't recognise my face. I was breaking out all over my body, and I had lost all motivation. I hated work. I hated coming home to my semi-dirty house. I hated feeling fat. I hated going to work. I hated.....life.

The entire day I felt hollow. Went to my "doctor." I honestly decided to switch. She doesn't strike me as someone who knows what she's doing. I went in to ask, the depression was really bothering me. The nurse went to get my doctor so I could talk to her and see what she thought-the doc never even came NEAR my door. No, instead, she gave me some random anti-depressants, and sent me on my way. No closure, no "how do you do."

I mean, I've seen her maybe 4 times in the entire 8 months I've been pregnant. She barely remembers anything about me. Rhonda, a different doctor, knows more about me than she does.


I woke up this morning feeling irritable. I kept waking up last night and dreaming of having to make cakes for people. I dunno why. I woke every 5 minutes or so, though. I ended up going to work this morning with about 4 1/2 hours of sleep.

I don't know what to do. I feel hollow on the inside. Hollow. And aching.

I want the pain to stop.

I watched her as she cried, and I didn't know what to say. Every day I ran to my room and looked out my window to the world, hoping I'd know how she was. Was she doing any better? Any update? Was she okay? I pondered about her a lot as the weekend passed, and as Mothers Day came and went. I woke up this morning, coffee in hand, and checked again out of my window, but no sign that she was alive.

I worry, but know she is too strong to let anything get her down. I worry that she's broken hearted even more, and that she's taking it out on the wrong people. My heart aches at how she is responding to the reaching out of other people. How she responds to the man of her heart, of her life.

No one knows how it feels. No one can know better than your own aching cavity that should be your heart. No one can know the pain, confusion, and dark surprise that consumes you. No one can know the painful grieving process better than you, because you are experiencing it. Until they have a glimpse of the terribly dark pain in you, they can not fathom what you may be experiencing. The ache, the tears, the feeling of helplessness.

You realise that not only are they never going to speak to you again, but you'll never be able to feel their touch, watch their eyes light up, or help them when they feel down. You realise your own mortality. It becomes crystal clear that you wont live forever. That more death is to come. That someday, people will be going through the exact same grief as you. You can still feel their skin from the last time you touched. You can smell them, remember their hair in the light. You can remember their monkey antics. A friend, deep, close, or even not so close, can have such a profound effect on you. It'll rip open that veil that we all wish would stay closed. The piece of delicate cloth that seperates us from the mysterious beyond, that waits to envelope us soothingly into it's hold.

AM, I can never console you, tell you that everything will be okay. I can never hold you against me and whisper what you want to hear. My heart aches for you, far away as you are, and I promise.....I may not be experiencing the pain with you, but I remember the pain, as only those who have lost a part of themselves can.

Keep your faith, and remember, life is not over at the funeral. The Great Beyond is just another part of life.

My heart cries for you, and I hold you in my thoughts constantly.

Stephanie