Disclosure at Half Mast

Lately I've had a strange peace about TMC. I say strange because this peace is not something I asked for, not something I looked for. I pray for an end, not for endurance. I pray for a resolution, not the ability to soldier on. I pray for something, anything for crying out loud...if I pray at all. TMC normally leaves me feeling constricted. Smothered. Hopeless. Like a misplaced punishment. A guilty verdict even though I'm innocent. So for me, enduring hasn't been an option. I just wanted out. But for the past few days I've just suddenly felt ok with the whole thing. I can think about it and breathe at the same time. I can have a conversation with Ryan about it without my eyes welling up and saying things like "never" and "pointless". It's weird. Unexpected.

And I like it.

And I hope it lasts.

Part of me wonders if God is preparing me to talk about it in my next book. I've been working up a new plan of attack for my next book...and Ryan and I have discussed the possibility of me including my nearly two year struggle with this condition. When it first came up I laughed and told him that I can't even come clean about it on my blog...how am I supposed to write about it in a book! A book my In-Laws would read! And my boss! And hopefully other people! Then I admitted that it could be a help to other people who struggle with the same thing. People who, like me, don't want to talk about it given its sensitive nature. People who could benefit from someone else spilling her guts so they don't have to.

Then Ryan did what Perfect Ryan always does and said the perfect thing. "Yes, it could help other people...but the person it would help the most is you."

Oh right.

That.

It's a scary thing, deciding to deal with something that weighs so heavily. Deciding to lay all my cards out for everyone to see. And judge. And measure. Giving up the one thing that has gripped me so tightly I now take six pills a day....for ulcers. I asked my doctor how long I would need to take these pills and he said, "Maybe for life."

And maybe not.

Illingworth Life Lesson #48

If your dog is fat, there's no one to blame but yourself.

Less Is More

Where have I been, you say?
Sick, I say.
How sick, you say?
So sick...I'll give you two examples that will scare you and cause you to ask no further questions.

How Sick I've Been #1: I went to the doctor. But that's not all, I went to the doctor and got a nice fat prescription. Upon leaving the doctor, I was given a brown paper bag full of samples of my nice fat prescription. Thank you, I said. Upon coming home and opening the brown paper bag full of samples, I noticed something else. Charmin Ultra Cleansing Cloths.

How Sick I've Been #2: It's now been 10 days since my last Diet Coke.

Conversation

The following is direct transcript of the phone conversation I just had with my brother.

Me: Do you know yet?
Him: No, we find out at 3:00 today
M: Well HURRY UP!
H: I know.
M: Are you excited?
H: YES!
M: I think it's a boy.
H: What if it's not a boy OR a girl? What if it's an alien?
M: Then you'll make lots of money.
H: True.
M: So either way, you win.
H: I'm hoping that when we have the ultrasound thing and see the baby that it will be wearing a cape. And they will say "You're having a Batman!" cause that would be cool.
M: Yeah.


UPDATE: It's a Girl!