Censorship, blood, guts and the effect on blogs in the modern age

It happened again.

Now the part where I have a new bleed every week.

I can constantly smell blood.. but it's not the normal period blood smell it's more metallic, like I've slashed my hand. I have of course, washed my hands a hundred times, but the smell persists. Is it really the scent of blood or is it all in my mind?

Out damn spot, indeed.

It's not like they're ordinary periods either. Normally, I have one or two agonising days with a volatile tide of blood then it's like my body forgets about it and we move on with a few sluggish bleeds before it tapers out. These last few weeks, I've had at least four-five days of full on bleed and extreme agony on each one.

My husband is sympathetic and does what he can. I don't think men can ever really grasp how bad periods can get. It seems like mood swings and chocolate sales are the common idea, but whenever people try to give men an idea about what it's like they inevitably bring it back to a comparison of kicking a man in the balls.

Maybe that is what it's like? I don't have balls, so I don't know. What I do know is that I get a bit more sensitive and depressed, I more often than not have no idea whether it's just cramps, or if I need to crap, fart or vomit - or if it's a bit of all three at the same time mixed in with cramps. I lose energy like a leaky can of V yet find it hard to sleep. I'm constantly hungry but don't want to eat. My heat packs are never far away. I feel as unsexy as dirty old men look. Nothing holds interest for me - my art, my comics, TV and games. Often - I will cancel a day out with friends, even if I really wanted to go - because I'm in too much pain to leave the house.




Side note: This post was from November, after a second IVF round began but failed within a few weeks of the positive result.
You may notice that I haven't posted since this. These words are from April 2019.

Well, I took a break and have been busy with other things. Things, despite my earlier depressed sounding post - are NOT that bad. This is why even though I'm not ready to talk about this event yet, I'm not going to censor myself. The above post is exactly how I felt at that time and it's important to have it out there, so people know it's okay to grieve. That periods suck, regardless. That some days are going to feel like the end of the world, but the world will still continue despite what's happening in your life. Now, that's as comforting as it is concerning, but you get the idea.

I am going to try to post more on the regular. I have been devoting more of my time to another blog but that's starting to get tiring for entirely different reasons. Anyway, till then!

The blog in which I stand under a raining cartoon cloud

Lately I've been getting a little blue again.

I thought I was okay and past it but I guess you can't reason with grief.

I don't think anything in particular set it off, even though the last week or two, well, life seems to be throwing babies at me. Babies I can't have right now.

Overhearing co-workers laugh about some dope getting knocked up. My friend telling me about her other friend announcing her pregnancy. Attending a baby shower for someone I don't even know well. Going out with my sister and her kid.. and the kid finds my shirt more interesting than me. People giving me huge donation bags of baby stuff for me to help them sort and telling me I can take things if I want. Like.. why? I could take all the bags and it wouldn't do me any good right now (although I did keep a pair of dog themed kid's shoes with floppy dogs ears on them because who could get rid of those??)

If these fit me I would friggin' wear them EVERYWHERE

Recently my husband went out to a sporting event with his close friend Jambo, who has also been through the IVF rigmarole but they did get a son out of it. He ended up talking about the miscarriage to him. They were previously unaware of it because we weren't ready to talk. Hubby didn't get a chance to tell me he'd done this as he got back late but the next night I got a similarly late text from Jambo's wife Messi. She said she'd heard about what happened and was there for me if I needed it.

I was initially angry - I didn't want to tell people for exactly this reason. The pity, the sorrow. The huge, aborted elephant in the room covered in blood, stinking of lost dreams and taking up space, like the onesies I'll never be able to put on that child.

So I didn't reply. I felt bad about it but I didn't know what to say. The rational part of me knows that Messi went through a similar thing and we could talk about it. Hell, she has talked to me about it but it was months after the fact and before I could fully comprehend how she must have felt. Even then - after the birth of her current child - she had tears in her eyes and was emotional about it.

Now, my emotional side knows that I would be the same but worse. I would be a mess and wouldn't even be able to choke out the words I want to say. I have always struggled to convey my personal life to others. I especially struggle if I need to say something of importance - I am for the most part, an emotionless stone person with the empathy level of a sociopath but I turn into the biggest sook ever when it's my turn to emote.

Did you get a grass cut? No, I got 'em all cut!

Continuing my little interest into the news and parental/child issues, today I'm going to talk about a news article I read recently about a young boy who got into trouble mowing lawns.

What's that? In trouble for mowing a lawn? I hear you cry. But Lucky, don't we want our kids to get off their screens and go outside and do something wholesome? I don't understand!!
Fear not, my friend. Let's explore this together.

Our story is set in the delicious sounding Maple Heights in Ohio, America. The plucky protagonist is Reggie Fields and his aptly named lawn mowing business Reggie Boyz Lawn Service. This is a business he started in the holiday to raise some of that much needed cash. I think we can all relate to that.

It's kind of refreshing to see a twelve year old kid doing this hard work instead of just vlogging or becoming a wannabe Instagram git. Wow, do I sound old and bitter or what?

Anyway, the story comes to a crux when young Reggie accidentally mows over the border.
Wait, that that makes it sound like he crossed into Mexico - what I mean is that he accidentally trimmed over a boundary and into a neighbour's territory. This neighbour called the police.

There are so many ways to look into this story. The first thing I personally thought of was the ridiculous track record America has for unnecessary police calls. Actually, let's face it a lot of countries apparently have a misunderstanding about what this line is for.

In the News: Landmark rights granted

The Brisbane Supreme Court has been in the news recently because of a landmark decision where a Toowoomba based woman has been granted the right to use the sperm of her deceased partner to make a baby.

Ayla Cresswell had been in a relationship with Joshua Davis for three years and like many couples, they had goals and aspirations about getting married, buying a house and starting a family.
Sadly, Mr Davies took his own life in 2016 without any apparent warning signs.

After speaking to his parents following the incident about how she wished she was pregnant, Mr Davies parents decided to help Ms Cresswell get an urgent court order for removal of sperm, which was approved and removed approximately 48hrs after Mr Davies passed away.




The court had heard about Ms Cresswell having the full blessing and support from both Mr Davies and her own family  for this, as well as the support of a lot of Mr Davie's friends who provided evidence that they were aware of his desire for children.

'Joshua told me that he was very excited at the prospect of being a father, and we often talked about having children, and the effect it would have on our lives,' Ms Cresswell told the court.

In one of my favourite comic books 'Strangers in Paradise' - there's a similar sort of situation in which David is revealed to be dying. He recently got together with Casey - who had been pining after him for years. She is devastated and worried that with him gone, she may forget the sound of his voice. She wants to give him a child who can grow up to learn how wonderful her father was but due to past issues, she's unable to conceive a child. Their mutual friend and protagonist Katchoo readily volunteers for the job so the child will be born out of their mutual love. 

So obviously it's a little different but you get what I mean. This child represents a legacy, and a fulfilment of the life the couple dreamed of together but now can't accomplish side by side. I think it's normal to wish for something like that, especially in the wake of something so tragic. 

Soul Refresher

Last weekend I went to church for the first time in a while.

I wouldn't describe myself as overly religious, but I do try to go every now and then. As I do shift work, that usually makes it harder. I used to go every week as a child, with my family.
It was kind of nice to have a routine like that, a chance to sing, see my grandparents and get out of the house. Sometimes we'd go out for dinner/lunch after.

I still remember someone saying to me after I left school that 'I didn't have to go to church anymore.' and I was like.. if I don't want to go, I won't go. If I do want to go, try and stop me.


That and the kids complaining about religious classes and having to attend mass in school... bro, you enrolled in a Catholic school..what did you expect?
Also, I have little patience for people who get their newborns baptised purely for the photo opportunity and for no other reason.

The church in my local used to be pretty run down and homely but they've spruced it up a little with new seats and a fresh lick of paint. Sometimes if we were travelling, we'd pop in to a different church or occasionally a cathedral. I always felt out of place in the expensive looking ones, preferring the local one.

I was shocked at how few people there were at our session, compared with when I was a kid. It was early in the morning though, so that could be why.

Now, while I have faith and try to be a good Roman Catholic - I also employ common sense.

I'm not going to take a passage from any of the books word for word or extremely literally because I don't think a vast majority of them are super relevant anymore. Bearing in mind that this is a book that's been taken from word of mouth, sometimes several times and then written down and then translated all over the world. Many, many years ago.

What I try to do is take the important bits - for example the ten commandments or any good moral - and live by them or by example of people I look up to, like the kind priests and nuns I grew up with at school and in the parish or family members.

The reason I'm talking about religion is because of all the talk and comforting/confronting posts you see following a miscarriage.

Namely: 'God had a plan for the newborn' or 'if God exists, why does miscarriage exist?'

My So Called Results and other anomalies

Today we got the results of the....  I don't even know what you call it. Would it be considered an autopsy? I'm not sure.

Anyway, we got the results.

Not sure how I feel about it?

Basically my doc said there's good and bad news.

The good news is, it's not any malfunctioning chromosomes. It doesn't look like it's a thyroid issue or anything to do with my hormones.

The bad news is that we don't know why it happened, just that it happened.

Which leaves me like.. well.. okay.

It's great that there's no obvious cause because it means we're healthy and can pass as normal functioning human persons. It sucks because there's nothing we can work on in the meantime?
Obviously we're still trying to get fitter and healthy but still.





I spent the rest of the afternoon sort of in shock after the phone call like.. I think in my mind I was thinking this would give me the answer as to what caused this living nightmare but it didn't. Now I'm just sitting here like a stunned mullet or a pork chop...or the next best food related analogy.

Thinking about food too much now. 

Exercising the Inner Demons

Today is a bad leg day, but overall I think I'm doing great. My husband and I have started a health regime and we're sticking to it admirably. I've lost nearly 5 kilos in two weeks, something my thyroid would have laughed at if you'd told me I could do this before.

Everyday I've been walking, running, using gym equipment. I keep getting spammed by gyms for membership applications but honestly, I prefer to be by myself mostly when I exercise so I'm ignoring them. Particularly the ones that won't tell me their fees. Suss as all hell.

A voucher for $200 off makes me cringe. I paid less than $200 for a year at my last gym, what the hell is the real price if that's the discount??

Plus when you do shift work, it's hard to make it to the gym regular like.
Especially when assholes keep cancelling the gym classes you like most.

Step and Konga for the win. That's all I'm sayin'.



Normally I take my Ipod with me when we go walking. For one thing, it tracks my steps and things, and for another I find music is a pretty powerful motivator. I have different playlists for whatever I'm doing. At first, hubby found it annoying because he thought I couldn't hear him but when we go walking together I have the tunes turned down and I normally play instrumentals.

I can't tell you how much better most songs sound without their idiotic lyrics.

I don't go walking around my suburb without hubby though, while we have a great time together we have discovered that the people who live around here are weirder than we first thought.
Some are okay, a week ago Friday we were on a more lengthy walk where I tried running but it hurt my legs too much to continue. Then we came across a nice lady who had lost her dog. Moments later, we spotted it so hubby ran to try to catch it or at least get it off the road (thankfully cars had stopped) and I ran about three minutes down the track to catch up to the lady to let her know.

Once I started running full bore, and with a purpose, I couldn't be stopped. Until I stopped, and then I couldn't breathe. The point was, I did it when I didn't think I could and the pain was present but nothing too extreme.