Tired.

A few days ago, I wrote that I hit rock bottom, and you know, not in such a bad way. More than anything, I just feel worn out.

I'm just floating along with it for now. I do still plan on calling around for therapy and professional help to treat depression.

But, part of me wonders if I'm not just exhausted. I was pregnant for nine months, gave birth, Cora died, and then I launched a nonprofit. And, in between, advocated my husband during a serious injury and dealt with a move across state.

Maybe my mind and body are just giving up for a little bit.

It was about a week ago I decided to take a few days off from the part time jobs I'm working and from really going at the nonprofit work, and it's just kind of drifted into over a week. I've done the minimum to make sure everything with the nonprofit is taken care of, and of course, am always thinking of ideas.

But, I still crave rest.

For now, I'm floating along with everything. Taking the pressure off.

Totally worn out through and through. 

I don't like putting things to the side and falling behind. But, it's just necessary right now.

My mind and body are just quitting on me. Refusing to let me work anymore, sleeping so much. And, rather than fighting any of that, I'm going along with it.

Rock Bottom

I feel like I've hit rock bottom of the hole I fell in sometime earlier this month. I wrote about it, feeling like I was a tunnel. Today has been the worst. Everything is such an effort. Honestly, don't even know how I'm even writing this blog post, except it's all I can do.

Poor Ben, I just took two hours to give him an answer about what to eat. I can't leave the house, it's too much.

I feel so behind in all my responsibilities, but oh so tired. My muscles ache.

I'm okay though. Stable. I know all of you worry.

Something tells me today is the worst of it. The darkest. I can't even think straight. The fog is heavy.

I'm giving in to today. I'm not pushing myself.

Tomorrow, I have plans. Waking up at a decent time, getting out of the house. But, I'm giving myself today. Sometimes you just have to.

I know it's depression. Rather it's postpartum from birthing a child, or depression because of her death, or a mixture of all.

I feel almost lucky that I've had depressive episodes before. It's a bit less scary at least knowing what I'm going through. I feel really, really, really lucky to feel hope despite of all this. I know beautiful things will come. I held and cuddled and kissed true beauty. It gets me through this.

Monday, I'll make phone calls and drag myself to doctor's offices. Today, I give in.

We are sisters: Not an easy topic. What is fistula?

I know, I know, half way through the month and I haven't introduced the topic.

As you might have gathered from my recent blog posts, I've been dealing with grief a lot, well, always am, and it's always hard, it's just sometimes somehow more time consuming.

This month's topic isn't easy to talk about. It's one of those subject so horrific, I think we'd all rather block it off. But, that's what this is about, helping our sister's without voices.

Fistula.

When someone suggested the idea on the Facebook page, I'd never heard of it, so went to do a bit of research.

This is the link left for me:
http://www.fistulafoundation.org/aboutfistula/

I was so beyond horrified with what I read. Wanted to click away and never talk, think, or read about it again. But, I knew I couldn't I knew I owed it to these woman to talk about.

Since, it's a hard topic, we'll go slow. This will be something the rest of you will probably have to digest in pieces. So, I'm starting with just a definition.

From the Fistula Foundation:

"A fistula is simply a hole between an internal organ and the outside world that should not exist.  There are two primary causes of fistula in women in developing countries:  childbirth, causing obstetric fistula and sexual violence, causing traumatic fistula."

 As  you might imagine the health issues, physical and mental, that go with this are huge. These are not treated in developing countries often. These woman need us.

I hoped this wouldn't happen... I'm a kid hater.

Hi, I'm Kristine, and apparently, I'm a child hater.

Don't know when it happened, but I can't look at them right now. It's so painful.

I fought this. I didn't want this to happen.

In the months after Cora died, being around kids didn't bother me so much. I even held a newborn a few weeks after she died.

But, now I hold back tears. Being around children, especially little girls is pure torture. I think it's why I fled New York. All those kids. I can't do it.

And, when a baby cries in public, my heart gets smashed. 

Only, I love kids. I always have. I don't want to feel like this anymore.

I don't want to feel tears run to my eyes every time I see or hear a child.

I hope this too, shall pass.

And, the worst part? I don't know how to fix it.

Don't know how to get over it.

08.02.09 The day I married my best friend

Tomorrow is my anniversary, so you're getting bombarded in sappy-ness today since I rarely schedule posts and don't plan on being online tomorrow.

Once I remember talking to another newlywed friend, telling her how great it was to marry your best friend. I expected her to nod in agreement, instead she looked at me oddly and then said "that's great."

It's then I realized not everyone marries their best friend.

I did.

On 08.02.09.

A year ago tomorrow.

In our first year of marriage...

Ben put up with my crazy couponing nesting and comforted me after I started crying at cashiers that wouldn't take my coupons.

He went along with the idea when I insisted we buy 25 cans of green beans because they were on mega sale when nesting. We still have some of them nine months later.

Ben tied my shoes in the last few months of my pregnancy.

He hid my flip flops from me because he didn't want me to trip while pregnant. Sweet now, but I was not happy.

He bought me a record player for a birthday surprise just a few weeks before Cora was born because I'd talked about one since he knew me and said repeatedly how I wanted music in her life.

Ben picked me up off the floor once when I was very pregnant and very upset and after falling to the floor in a hissy fit found I couldn't get back up.

He listened to me read Cora books when I was pregnant with her.

Ben gave out pink bubble gum cigars to everyone he saw after Cora was born.

He stayed up with her while I slept so little Cora in her five days wasn't ever alone.

Ben drove to the hospital to try to save her with his head out the window because the windshield was frosted over.

He was the reason I came back after giving up and collapsing on the hospital floor. I saw his face.

I checked on him constantly the days after Cora was gone and made him eat and made sure he was safe.

We delivered her eulogy together.

I made a video of her pictures he sometimes watched late at night.

He took me away after we got her autopsy report.

I listened to him and made sure he knew it was okay to cry.

He went everywhere I wanted to go and stopped so I could take pretty pictures during the trip.

I fought for him when he got stuck in an awful hospital after falling from a treehouse and shattering his ankle.

I pulled him out of the hospital MIA when they didn't give him proper treatment and drove from Atlanta to Indiana straight through.

He still did the dishes for me a few times when he was in a wheelchair.

Ben supported all my ideas and gave me space and time to build Cora's non-profit.

...

Everyone says going through a tragedy, such as losing a child, either rips a couple apart or brings them closer together.

Ben and I are closer than ever.

Yes, Cora was at my wedding. That's my baby bump. If you're curious about why I'm not in white, go over to Cora's Story to read about our wedding day.