I was walking along a sidewalk. I saw a pineapple who could speak, I guess. It says, ‘I’m Jesus,’ then the spiky outside part peels off and it turns into a man. The pineapple was Jesus. Hence why I call the dream ‘The Pineapple Jesus Dream’.
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Throwing feelings into the void. Big sads. No obligation for interaction. I just need to vent.
Gonna pop it under a cut.
CW: pregnancy, parenting, mental health, light medical stuff… stuff like that
Last week my 4.5 year old asked me to rock her to sleep.
The first time in probably a year and a half that she’s asked for that.
She’s a wild ball of energy and I rarely get the sweet snuggles anymore that she happily gave when she was an infant and young toddler. And that is bittersweet for me. On the one hand I get “I love you”s all day now and that warms my heart. I get to learn who she is, what she likes, and what she doesn’t which is all so amazing to watch.
On the other hand, every day I’m creeping closer to having to accept she may be my only kid and all those beautiful firsts I thought I would get to do at least one more time may be lasts for me as well.
When I was pregnant with her we found out I am a carrier for two genetic conditions. One is X-linked. It was terrifying and the first of a few complications I’d have while pregnant with her, but those are for another day.
When my husband and I originally talked family planning, we’d agreed on two or three kiddos. And then we learned of my carrier status and every plan we had was turned on its head. Suddenly we no longer had the freedom to try for more kids naturally. At the time that was a small inconvenience but one we could work through.
When my wee one was 9 months old, everything shut down because of COVID.
My postpartum anxiety, rage, and OCD were nearly crippling.
Inflation hit our pocketbooks as it did everyone else.
And now the timeline in which we were *supposed* to have another child is fucked. We’d planned on starting for baby 2 when peewee turned 2.
Now we have to decide…do we do IVF with genetic testing? It’s not covered by insurance, can run hundreds of THOUSANDS of dollars, and doesn’t guarantee a pregnancy will stick. Or do we just have one? And frankly our window of opportunity is shrinking.
I am grateful I have my kiddo. Please know that. I know there are others who would love to have even one. And that knowledge makes me feel unimaginably guilty for being upset about this. I feel ungrateful. Like I should suck it up and just be happy.
But my ability to choose was taken from me and it’s crushing some days. I’m sad. I’m angry. Some days I’ve accepted it. Others not so much.
So nights when my baby asks to be rocked to sleep…I always do. And then I cry after she’s out, snoring away because the time that she’ll want me to do that is finite.
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my gift for @that-was-anticlimactic for the winter solstice exchange!!
[id: a drawing of yue and suki from avatar the last airbender. they sit on a mattress on the floor and eat pineapple pizza. yue holds a phone and giggles while suki smirks. sokka is talking through the phone and says: it’s an insult to modern cuisine!! there are moving boxes on the ground and a bi flag, and a kyoshi poster with string lights on the wall. end id]
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Going through it right now. So I’m going to be sad in the void right now. Big sads under the cut. TW: pet illness and pet death/euthanasia
This is señor pineapple kitty. I adopted him when he was 6 weeks old from the pound 15 years ago.
He’s the single most sweet and loving little man. In the 15 years I’ve had him, he’s loved laps and snuggles and all the affection you can give. He loves giving nose kisses and tucking his head under your chin for a cuddle.
I took him to the vet yesterday for what I thought was a standard respiratory illness. He’s prone to them. Gets them all the time. Instead we found out he is in renal failure.
They said he might pull through if he is hospitalized. But that they also found a lump. And on top of that he’s been coping with chronic pancreatitis for the last 4 years. He’s so old. And he’s deteriorating fast. Faster than anticipated.
I’ve had to make the painful decision to help him cross the rainbow bridge. And I’m heartbroken for myself and our family. In addition to processing my own grief, I will have to help my 4 year old understand.
I just wanted to share him because he’s such a special boy. So deeply loved. And while death is an inevitable part of life and our beautiful fur babies never live long enough, the pain never lessens. And I guess I hope that word vomiting here will help me feel... less alone? I know I’m not. But for some reason it feels it.
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