Thursday, January 7, 2016

Goodbye 2015, Don't let the door hit you in the Ass on the Way Out.

Some of you (by which I mean, probably just my parents), may have noticed that I haven't been updating Sean and Katie's place much in 2015.  There are two very good reason's for that. One is about 30 pounds, and knee high, and wants to be a flute player/dragon rider when she grows up.  The other reason is a little sadder.

 Some of you may remember the Spring of 2015, when I announced that I was pregnant, after failing to convince my neighbor Bill that I was going on a cleanse. Sadly, 4 1/2 months into this pregnancy, I went into early labor.  Our second daughter, Adeline was born on June 2nd, and did not live. I debated whether or not to even mention this on Sean and Katie's place, because the tone of this blog is so playful, but I've decided that it's important for readers to know this about us, if you plan on following along in our lives.  I've written extensively (mostly for myself in order to process grief) on a separate blog. To read about our Adeline, click here.

The health complications that followed for me have been shocking. For months after Adeline's death, I dealt with extreme blood loss. I had 3 surgeries, 4 blood transfusions, and went into something called "septic shock." (given it's name because it feels like you are being buried alive in an actual septic field.)  On three separate occasions, I was in critical condition and on three separate occasions, Sean and I said our goodbyes to each other. And, if you think that last sentence sounds dramatic, wait until I tell you this.  At one point, I was rushed in a helicopter to the ICU in downtown Cleveland by a life-flight Paramedic whose ACTUAL NAME was Alan Jackson. Then, a medical student stabbed an IV in my ACTUAL NECK, while I was still awake.  It was crazy.

For all these reasons, as I reflect on 2015, I just have one message for this awful year, which is best expressed in picture format:

2015 go f yourself

And then in break up letter format:

Hey 2015, 

We need to talk.  I've been thinking for a while now that this isn't going to work out. It's not me-- it's definitely you. I just can't keep living with this much DRAMA.  Actually.... it's kind of awkward to talk about this, but I've recently been seeing someone new.  His name is 2016.  He's older, more mature, and has a better job than you. I think we're going to be really happy together. 

See you around,

And then is hashtag format:


So cheers.  Let's all raise our glasses to 2016.  I hope this year is full of blessings, toddlers pretending to ride dragons, and women saying goodbye to abusive relationships with time-periods.  As for me, I'll be sitting in my house, soaking up the good times with my family, and listening to Alan Jackson's "Chatahoochee."

Happy New Year

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