How Grey’s Anatomy Can Save Your LIfe: One Line of Dialogue at a Time a.k.a. the real story of what happened last year.

Quote of the Day:
Depression is the inability to construct a future.
~Rollo May

Current Local Weather:
White Noise coming in droves from the
Microwave Vent in order to quiet
the storms inside.

Currently on my iPod:
Interlude:
The 2nd Happiest Song in the World
The Project

Dear friends, family and my family of friends,

I’m not one to follow television shows. Okay, that’s a lie. I am. If I had an actual television and cable, I’d be a sucker for a few shows that are on right now.

Grey’s Anatomy
Modern Family
and of course, my absolute favorite show...beating out 90210 from my teen years, Glee.
I’m addicted.
I can admit it but I’m not quite ready to go into recovery.

I know it’s been a long, long time since I’ve blogged on here. But it’s been a long, long, looonnngg time since I’ve even felt like myself. My life has kinda turned upside over the last nine or so months. Throughout these nine months of my pregnancy (thank you Dr. LaMonica and Dr. Martin for making sure it was a nine month pregnancy instead of a seven month one) I spent the better part of 15 weeks locked up in medical hell. One week was in the ICU courtesy of Mag Sulfate flooding my lungs. When the docs asked the father, if it came down to it, would it be me or the baby, I knew I was screwed. Or at least thought I was, but that was after the fact. I didn’t actually hear them say this, but they did. I then spent one week wondering if I was going to live. This wasn’t the week in the ICU. This was the week I was diagnosed with a blood clot in my internal right jugular. Nothing says, you may be dead any minute now, than when the doc comes in, gives you the prognosis/diagnosis and then sends in the clergy to ask you if you need anything and if he can pray for you and then the social worker to help you fill out a will/durable power of attorney.

Then there was the birth. C-section with a massive blood loss that rendered me, as my doc put it, profoundly anemic. What a joy it is to be in my skin!

Not to mention crippling depression that lingers on a daily basis but is somewhat clearing. Every single day, not knowing if it was going to be my last, be painful, or be wonderful will mess with your head. Talk about a range of emotions.

So what do I have to show for all this shit?

Natalie Jane.

December 7th, 1020am
7lbs 11oz.

She couldn’t be more perfect.

So back to that thing about being myself. One would think that it would be even harder now that I’m a mom, again. Starting over in the game of life in ways you will never know about. I could blame the hormones from the pregnancy. Or...it could have been that I needed a break from who I was in order to take a step back and really look at the world around me. My rose colored glasses shattered one afternoon and I began to see the world for what it was. I would like to believe that I found out what is truly important to me. I found love, in all the wrong and right places. I found sacrifice. I found out what it means to fight for what you believe in. I also found out that sometimes what turns out to be the right solution for you is not the solution others thought should have played out.

Going through the amount of trauma that I went through in a small amount of time will change you. It would change anyone.

Now, my life is planning writing retreats (October folks. If you want info, email me), watching shows like Grey’s Anatomy on Netflix while I feed my little one in the middle of the night and then praying, begging, borrowing and stealing snippets of sleep. And I’m trying to get healthy...actually I’m not trying. I’m GOING TO get healthy and stay that way for the rest of my life. This is the year I say good-bye to all the docs and medications and other shit that I’ve been carrying around as if it were a Prada handbag. (Thanks Kate)

Last night, while feeding an infant and obsessing over Grey’s Anatomy, I heard this: “When the battle chooses us, that’s when the sacrifice turns out to be more than we can bare.”

For now, think about that.

I believe the writers of Grey’s Anatomy knew what I needed to hear in that moment. I wouldn't say they saved my life, but they sure as hell helped me gain perspective. Again. I wish I was friends with the writers.

I heard the line, “I’ve heard it’s possible to grow up, I’ve just never met anyone who’s actually done it. Like children, we never give up hope.”

I won’t say that I’ve given up hope, but I think it’s about damn time I actually grow up and take more responsibility for who I am, where I am and what I’m doing. Being aware of this is sometimes more difficult than you would think. Try it some time. And when you try it, don’t lie to yourself about any of your current factors. Not that I’m trying to change the world, but hell, if more of us owned up to our true realities, the world might work a little bit better and more of us would get off our asses and try to truly change it.


So I continue to watch Grey’s each night, wondering if by season 3, Meredith will finally get back into McDreamy’s pants. Then again, McDreamy is just that. A dream. He’s not real. In the end, just like the nursery rhyme, life is but a dream. Is it? Really? I sure as hell hope so because this means that one of these fine sunny days in hell, I will wake up to the life I’ve earned and was always meant to have. For now? For now, I’m going to continue to put myself out there even though I’ve decided that all the craziness will make me crazier, but I’m going to do it anyway.

Yours in McDreams, McShit and McDoing the Right Thing,

Cicily