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sluttypatrickstar · 1 year

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i have suffered. i have received unspeakable brain trauma. i have read sentences that i simply cannot unread. that's right, it's time for my chaotic review of verity by colleen hoover!

now i wrote an actual, proper review of this book that used paragraphs and real grammar, but this is tumblr. you're getting the bullet points, you're getting the sweary words, you're getting the dissolution of my sanity.

there's a lot of graphic and disturbing content in this book, so if you're bothered by that kind of thing, it might be best not to read.

the plot:

so our narrator, lowen ashleiggghghghg, is hired by this guy jeremy crawford to finish his wife verity's thriller book series bcus verity was in a car accident and is now profoundly disabled (can't move, can't talk, needs regular care, etc.)

she needs verity's notes and somehow ends up living in verity's house so she can spend literally all day going through verity's office. the only believable part of this is that a writer could be so disorganised that you'd need full days to try and go through all of their stuff

for some context, jeremy is apparently brooding (though i see like, 0 evidence of this) over his wife's accident as well as the deaths of his twin daughters chastin and harper

in verity's office, lowen finds a manuscript that looks like it's verity's autobiography

verity's autobiography starts as overly detailed jeremy smut and oh my fucking god i mean overly detailed i wish i could GOUGE my fucking EYES out this is just BAD PORN this book is like 90% porn 10% no-plot

anyway as this autobiography goes on, lowen is like. holy shit. verity is cuckoo bananas. she is OBSESSED with jeremy. she does that patrick star thing of "what do you when i'm at work all day?" "wait for you to get back :(". she wants to be jezza's ONLY focus and resents her daughters for taking his focus away

like, she tries to plan out her pregnancy so that she'll gain as little weight as possible, but then she finds out they're twins and she's like omg im RUINED and tries to miscarry and abort them

after they're born, she has a premonition of her daughter harper killing her other daughter, chastin (the only daughter she likes, verity fucking hates her kids but randomly starts loving chastin). chastin does in fact die of anaphylactic shock when she's around 8 and verity blames harper

jeremy won't fuck verity because he's so sad about his daughter's death, and verity is not having this, but through some twisted logic she's like maybe he'll be all out of grief if another daughter dies! so she kills harper and stages it as a canoe accident

back to lowen, she's reading this autobiography at an absolute snail's pace (like 1 short chapter a day) while also living with Hot Dad Jeremy (she's into him, especially after reading all that Jeremy Porn), this is most of the book tbh . a series of weird things happen that convince her that verity is faking her disability

lowen is also 100% convinced that verity is PURE FUCKING EVIL from this autobiography

fast forward, jeremy and lowen hook up (surprised pikachu face)

and yes, verity was faking being disabled, where is her OSCAR for that METHOD ACTING that fooled the HOSPITAL the NURSES for MONTHS!!! she didnt even flinch when lowen tried to startle her by literally throwing something across the room. daniel day-lewis is SHAKING

lowen shows jeremy the autobiography and jeremy starts choking verity

lowen is like, stop! they'll know u did it! think of ur son, he'll be fatherless!

actually you should kill him by making her puke instead so they'll think she just aspirated on her own vomit ;)

so jeremy does that instead because that's totally the most sensible option to do in this particular scenario

7 month timeskip and all is great because EVIL verity is DEAD and now lowen and jeremy can be together forever and they even have a new baby on the way bcus jeremy came inside her no condom and apparently every woman in this book is insanely fertile and gets pregnant on the first try

TWIST TIME!!!

they go back to verity and jeremy's house to finish clearing out their stuff

but... lowen finds a note in verity's room...

verity claims that the autobiography was just a writing example to help her write from an antagonistic perspective (her thriller series is notably written from the villain's POV)

jeremy found the autobiography and tried to choke verity to death, but when that failed, he set up her car accident, after which verity decided she had to fake being disabled so she could run away with their living son crew and eventually explain everything

but this plan is an F bcus shes fuckin dead now isnt she

so much effort and for WHAT

the book leaves us with the fucking stupid dry ass cliché question of: WHICH WAS THE REAL VERITY? WHAT WERE THE LIES? WAS THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY REAL OR NOT? and actually i dont give a flying fuck i was just glad to be done

my thoughts

the characters in the book make the most ridiculous and nonsensical decisions and trust me i can say that for sure bcus i have never made a good decision in my life

in the opening chapters, lowen witnesses a car accident & is splattered with blood on the way to her publisher meeting

she encounters jeremy (tho she doesnt know who he is yet) and he takes her to the men's bathroom of a coffee shop to get cleaned up

lowen tAKES HER SHIRT OFF IN FRONT OF THIS ABSOLUTE STRANGER

i am trying to ignore this red flag maybe shes just confident

jeremy proceeds to lock the door to the men's bathroom so that no one else can come in, and lowen finds this comforting! how chivalrous of mr sexy man jeremy!

WHAT THE FUCK LOWEN? HOW IS THIS COMFORTING? I'D BE FUCKING. I'D BE PANICKING SO BAD I'D BE OUT THE DOOR

later in the book we find out that lowen has a chronic sleepwalking problem and can even open inside locks when she's sleepwalking

she broke her wrist sleepwalking when she was a kid so it's not really safe for her to be able to get out and about while sleepwalking

jeremy offers to install a lock on the outside of lowen's bedroom door, so that she can't leave her bedroom without him opening the outside lock for her

instead of finding this FUCKING TERRIFYING

she's Thrilled by his generosity! wow! isn;t jeremy so kind and thoughtful?

lowen! LOWEN!!! GIRL!!!!!!!!!

lucky for her jeremy is apparently a nice guy so jeremy's fucking weird actions are glossed over and theyre so nice arent they... haha...

dude i wanna know what the fuck jeremy has that women are literally OBSESSED with him. hes so bland. he has no personality. he's a cardboard cutout of a man but apparently he has good dick idk

lowen is so besotted with jeremy that she doesnt think it's bad that he tried to kill his wife twice and then succeeded on the third try

no! it's actually so sweet because it proves how much of a dedicated father he is! he thinks verity killed harper so by killing her he's just being such a good and protective dad haha! murder is okay

there was also just way too much sex in this book like i said it before but truly i cannot encapsulate how much of this book was sex. and in case u were wondering about the quality of the sex, 50 shades author EL james is in the acknowledgements of this book.

how are people giving this book 5 stars? it's fucking. it's laughably bad. the plot is so stupid. the characters are boring. no-one makes a single good decision. jeremy is white bread. it's like, really really bad. i really need to know if the straights giving this book 5 stars need help, therapy, or jesus. if u do, please blink SOS in morse code, i will come and get u.

everyone who has a superiority complex because they've never read a single CoHo book is correct . u guys are doing great

#rant review #anti colleen hoover #anti coho

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thenotetoselfpod-hq · 3 years

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“The answer is yes if you were wondering if y’all were spoiled. Whew, Chile. Don’t ask me for NOTHIN’ else.” Zion chuckled sweetly as she dramatically cleared her throat. “Lets get into it. Welcome back to another episode of the Note to Self podcast where we talk all things self care of the body, spirit, mind, work ethic, sprinkled in with a whole lot of motivation to carry us into a new day. I am your host Zion Taylor and with me in my makeshift studio is my lil baby who listens to all of my problems, my boss friend THEEEEE Brilliant O’neal.” Zion air claps as she smiles over at Brilliant. “How are you on this lovely day, mama?”

“Hey, hey, hey! I’m so excited to speak to the note to self listeners all over, it’s been fun listening in and making my own input here and there but wheww being here feels so rewarding.” She said warmly before playfully exhaling. “I’m doing good, managing like I usually do but good nonetheless. How are you?! What jewels do you plan on dropping for the people today?”

“I’m probably doin’ a little less good than you since you’re managing but girl .. I cannot complain at all. So thankful to have you here for this episode and to just catch up. We’ll get into the tea of it all a little later. We start every episode with a brief recap and I wanted to thank everyone, again, for all of the love. I hope you all were inspired to really keep killing shit in the industry that you’re in and watch the doors open up for you. Last weeks top listeners were the beauty that is known as @royalnike who spoke about her Black Owned Mechanic business and the short term goals that she has for herself in that business. Of course you, Mrs. Brilli Dis, founder and owner of The Glamour Parlor, and the beautiful @syxrai, who I’m obsessed with on IG by the way, but who also is a film producer ALL shared your short term goals which inspired me tremendously. If you missed out on that go give it a listen and drop your own goals in the comment section.

Music is the only thing that gets me through my week sometimes. This week is on you because Channing is still pressed about Good Days so that shit rings in my head every day because of her.” Zion laughed, “What have you been listening to this week? Any new music you wanna share? Put us on.

Brilliant cracked up in laughter at the mention of Channing. “That baby got taste, because that’s my jam! But this week I’ve been on my Gangsta Brilli, I’ve been playing A Gangsta’s Pain by MoneyBagg on repeat. I think his track with Jhené is the perfect vibe, so if y’all need something to vibe to, with a nice little glass of wine, One of Dem Nights, but the whole album bops.”

“Okaaaay. Now see I haven’t always been a MoneyBaggYo fan up until his songs started getting airtime on the radio. I’ma definitely have to give that a listen once Channing is done boppin’ to her fave.

And that brings us right into the TEA for the day. I’ve known Brilliant for several years now and I feel like I’ve only known her as this amazing business women, wife and mother. We both know how crazy it can be going from Hashtag Living Single to Mommy Duties real quick once you’re married and have wifely duties, etc. How long did you know your Husband before you two decided to make it official AND tie the knot? Was marrying young something that you were open to or did it not matter? What’s that young love story you can’t wait to share with your kids?” Zion smiled as she looked over at Brilliant.

“So I always tell people that me and my husband’s love story is literally crazy, and I don’t think it could’ve happened any other way. Because were short on time, for the real how we met tea, watch our YouTube video! But..I think we dated for about a year before I got pregnant and just because of the type of man he is and how in love we were, and how happy we were when our son Justice was born, we got married when he was about 3 months. I honestly didn’t see myself marrying that young or having children..and my life did a whole 180. I just thought damn I’ll probably hate it here but when you have that person to make those defining moments with..it was a breeze and I found myself being happier with my little family than when I ran the streets. I don’t think marrying young is for everyone but when you make the right decision..man the moments you’ll create..priceless. Still a hot girl though, don’t get that twisted.” She said with a playful laugh.

“EXACTLYYY. I have to remind Lex all the time when he sees me playing dress up in my boots and coochie cutters that mama BEEN a stallion, okay?! Hot Girl Summer me, please!” She laughed, “No but seriously the feeeeels. I’m obsessed with the love you two have for each other. It’s infectious. But I’m sure it hasn’t always been cupcakes and rainbows, right. Y’all, shit gets real after the wedding and the vows and even after that honeymoon phase. I know for me and Carmelo, I’m more of the opinionated one and I really had to learn to step down and let my man LEAD our home. We were pregnant before the wedding ... liiike ya girl had her dress taken OUT 4 times before I was satisfied with how my hips looked in it.” She chuckled, “You said something so special, when you have that person to make memories with you will DEFINITELY not want to live a single day without them and expanding that love into children only makes it better. Melo was trying to get me pregnant BEFORE he proposed to me and I wasn’t having it because at the time I was dealing with fertility issues and having a baby seemed damn near impossible. I always say that he spoke the life of our son, Lexington, into existence because I didn’t think that I could physically carry.” She stated, smiling again at the thought.

“I remember you alls last video where you announced the pregnancy of my other child, Jewel” She chuckled, “Um, what was the experience like for you? Having to go through all that you did for the blessing that is currently your literal shadow. She looks like her Daddy but has your everything else. What was that like?”

“That’s your child for sure.” She said with a laugh. “It was actually on the difficult side, she’s my rainbow baby. I suffered a miscarriage and some issues with fertility so I actually got pregnant with Jewel through IVF. I adore her, it’s scary having a mini version of myself. Someone who’s with all my hair, makeup and nail antics because my son Justice is not with it at all! He won’t even let me take his picture half the time.” She laughed momentarily. “I know it’s the same way with you and my baby Channing”

“I can imagine it being extremely difficult. When God’s mind is made up we can only pray that He’s included us in His plans and when he made Channing? He definitely had me in mind.” She laughed. “I still don’t know how we got so lucky but I don’t question anything. She’s obsessed with all of my clothes and hair and everything in between.”

“The last thing I wanted to talk to you about is what’s been going on in the media with Porsha, Falynn, and the Husband who I don’t even know his name yet. So Porsha Williams brought onto the Real Housewives of Atlanta show her friend Falynn a few years ago. Maybe like two seasons ago. This is someone who was also featured on this last season of the RHOA show that was filmed in 2020. Apparently the two are no longer friends and Porsha is now ENGAGED to Falynns’ Husband because they haven’t even gotten a divorce yet. I wan’t to know your thoughts on the whole situation. What type of friendship dynamic do you think they had for Porsha to be comfortable MARRYING this man?”

“Engaged. To. A. Former. Friend’s. Husband.” She said slowly before letting out a low sigh. “Now, the first mistake she made was being engaged or dating a man who is still married. I don’t care what the circumstances are, he is legally married! It is literally code and decency not to date or marry after your friends. If y’all are friends or have ever called each other friends, that’s just unacceptable. I would beat the breaks off anyone I called a friend for going after my husband if we ever were to divorce. That’s just grimy and I don’t think Falynn is mad enough. I do know though, one of my followers who is a hair stylist said how she married one of her old client’s ex husband and child’s father. Do you think that’s acceptable? Say I did a woman’s hair for years and nothing besides that and I went on to date her ex?”

“Absolutely not. Unacceptable and I’m the type of crazy that belongs in jail so you already know how that’s gone gooo. It’ll forever be up until they give me life.” Zion laughed and shook her head, “Period. Porsha is most definitey a fucked up individual but I would LOVE to hear y’alls thoughts on the matter so leave alll comments in the comment section below.”

“Thank you all so much for listening to me and Brilliant catch up. Brilliant please tell my listeners where they can follow you and how they can support The Glamour Parlour. Alsooo, when’s the next brunch or giveaway?”

“It has been sooo fun talking with you! I’m glad I got the opportunity to talk with to boss friend Zion! I get this question a lot..so often.” She let out a low laugh. “All I’ll say is to stay tuned, we’ll be turning up soon and the giveaways won’t stop!”

“Ayyyy so there it is people, the beautiful Brilliant O’neal. Be sure to check her out across all social media platforms at @brillixdis and I’ll talk to you in the next episode. Byyyyyyyye.”

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swest1903-blog · 4 years

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What if -a fathers story coping with miscarriage

What If ? This is something I have asked myself over and over again and I suspect that all dads to be who have had to deal with the loss of a child have had the same thoughts. We didn't have the surprise that many couples get when discovering they are going to be parents, my wife and I had been receiving fertility treatment, this was to be our last attempt using “clomid” before the doctors investigated further. Day 28 came and still no sign of that moment when your wife looks and you know “not this month” a test was taken and not much hope was held. At first glance there was only 1 line, but as I looked harder I could see the faintest 2nd line (or was I looking for something that wasn't their) many tests were taken over the coming days and they kept saying POSITIVE, we were over the moon but were told not to get too excited, the clinic would do a test in 2 weeks to confirm if the news we wanted was in fact true. My heart was pounding as the nurse looked for a little flicker on the screen, it seemed like an eternity and then the words came “theres your baby” I gripped my wife’s hand as she gripped mine (we were going to be parents). Telling my parents that they were going to be Grandparents again was a very proud moment. The weeks passed, keeping this secret was getting harder, deciding on names and buggies was now the main topic of conversation (I was enjoying every minute of it) 12 weeks came and like the first scan we were gripping each others hands, and there it was the heartbeat, the scan wasn't just a bean anymore it looked like a baby. We got so much pictures, smiles from ear to ear. The picture went public and everyone was over the moon for us. A couple of weeks passed and then we decided to find out the sex, my wife was 16/17 weeks Pregnant at the point. IT'S A GIRL, well I was over the moon, I was going to be a daddy to a little girl. My wife was excited as she had all these plans, Pink, Pink and a little more pink. The next day was a nice warm day so I decided I would go play golf, boast about going to be a dad , etc. My wife was working and said she would either get a taxi home or walk depending how she felt after work. She called to say she got a taxi and was running a bath and she would see me when I got home. 2 holes later I’m putting out when I feel my phone go, all I remember was my wife crying down the phone “somethings wrong, somethings coming out of me”. I took off over that golf course and got to the car, called my parents to tell them something was wrong and I would let them know. I got home in no time at all, ran inside and my wife was on the bed. I called an Ambulance which seemed to take forever but in reality took only a few minutes. The nurses were asking questions, taking readings and doing checks. A female surgeon turned up and examined what was going on. She was going to Theatre but her senior consultant would do the procedure to see if they could solve the problem. I went outside and made some calls thats when it hit me that something was wrong, I had been staying strong for her and didn't even let it hit me I guess. She was taken to Theatre and I went home to get changed and get the car, I arrived back at hospital as she was being wheeled back into the ward. As I walked into the single room I looked at the nurse and she just shook her head. I walked out the room into the corridor and fell to the floor in an unconsolable mess, my family were there to help me to my feet and calm me down. The next morning I was attending the funeral of my Nana (grandmother) I was numb and broke down whenever anyone tried to speak to me or say how sorry they were. I spoke to the man who held the service who knew my wife and I because he married us not 2 years previous. I told him what happened and he said he would do anything he could for us. I got a call form my wife that the surgeon wanted to talk to us. The surgeon came and spoke to us he said the words “Premature Rupture of Membranes” he tried explaining but it wasn't sinking in. we were told my wife’s cervix opened and the membrane burst when they tried to insert a stitch to keep everything intact. We were now faced with the decision to let nature take its course or “take a tablet” we had just heard her heartbeat so in our eyes if she was fighting we would fight too. This went on for a few days, hearing the heartbeat and thinking we made the right choice, she can do this I kept thinking, she is fighting so hard. On the Thursday our world stood still, my wife gave birth to our daughter that evening. She never took a breath and was still born. “what was her name” the nurse asked; “Olivia” I said, she weighed less than a tub of Pringles 156 grams. She was perfect in every way. We held her, we looked at her we fell in love with her. She was wrapped in a lovely pink knitted blanket with a knitted hat and in a Moses basket. The nurses done a terrific job ensuring My wife was well looked after and that she was comfortable. It fell to me to call Family and friends, one of the worst things to do telling people your child has passed away. We were given leaflets on what service we would like, we didn't have to decide then but we did, a burial seemed the right choice. Once we got home we sat in silence, all the baby pink things that were bought not even a week before were sitting in the corner. Flowers were arriving in what seemed to be a never ending shipment. People had been so generous and there sympathies were heartfelt and appreciated. We started going over poems, the tears started to some but I felt like I shouldn't cry as I HAD to be strong for my wife. We chose a poem, service was organised. We placed the only picture where the 3 of us were in it (the picture we put on Facebook) into the coffin with our little girl with a letter explaining how much we loved her and wanted her to be part of our life. It was just the 2 of us at the service, when the poem was read I had tears that were rolling down my face that I tried to stop because I HAD to be strong for my girls. We went for something to eat and to raise a glass to our baby girl. We don't want to cry anymore But the pain won't go away Our hearts are torn in two Because our baby couldn't stay We don't want to cry anymore God had other plans for you Mommy and Daddy will get through this someday But right now our world is blue We don't want to cry anymore We never thought we'd be torn apart Even though we can't hold you in our arms We will always hold you in our hearts We don't want to cry anymore Our Angel, there was nothing we could do Mommy and Daddy will miss you so much And never forget, we will always love you Over the coming weeks things would return to normal, we got away from it all and went on a little holiday, came home and got about our business, the whole time she was never far from our thoughts, I see her everyday when I look at my arm and see her name with her footprints and the saying “Briefly known forever loved” Fast forward to February 2015 and I get a message from my wife but it's a picture, “1 - 2 weeks pregnant” I am back on the top of the world, I am going to be a dad, then I start worrying what if we have more complications ? We tell less people this time, we don't make it public, we feel that way if something goes wrong we don't have the anguish of telling the world that we wont be getting our little bundle of joy. I am so happy for my wife as people close to us have told us that they are expecting so I'm glad my wife can join in with all the baby talk, even though she is being very conservative and rightly so, especially after what happened last year. Were in a different room this time but were still holding hands tighter than we ever have. "there's the baby's heartbeat" again I'm on top of the world, but I don’t get too carried away. After what happened last year My wife has to get a procedure that will involve getting a stitch to prevent ”PROM" The procedure was a success, I feel some weight lift off my shoulders and start to believe I am going to be a dad ! “IT’S a girl” she says as we both stare at the screen, tears of joy running down our faces. The name we decided on was "Aimee Olivia” a perfect name for a perfect little girl, I thought. Picking out pregnancy pillows and looking at buggies was becoming a nightly conversation along with wall decorations for the room as we were getting further along in the pregnancy. I was working away from home, constantly talking on the phone and checking in everyday to make sure everything was ok, Getting told how much she was kicking and wriggling about put the biggest smile on my face, getting pictures on how big the bump was getting making me wish I was kissing and talking to Aimee through the bump. Sitting having some food before I head back to the hotel and my phone rings and it’s my wife “something is wrong” she never calls me. “I haven't felt her move all night, and I have cramping” my heart starts thumping but I know I HAVE to stay strong for her, everything comes rushing back to me from before but I block it out and say to myself “this cant happen again” she is away for a scan so I wait by the phone. “baby she is gone” I break down and try to call her but I cant get through the signal is terrible, I eventually manage. Her heart stopped beating they said, labour pains were starting to get worse, I felt helpless halfway across the world, I organised my flight home which was 5 hours away. I called my parents and everything seemed like a daze, I was fine until I spoke to someone then I would break down, they didn't know what to say, they were in shock also. My wife gave birth to our baby girl and I wasn't there to hold her hand, to give her words of comfort, it felt like a nightmare that I couldn't wake up from. I slept for the first 5 hour flight, While I was waiting for my connecting flight I called my wife to tell her I was on my way and waiting for my next flight. The next flight was 8 hours and I hoped it would go by in a flash, an older woman sat next to me and started talking to me asking questions about where I was going etc, well I broke down. I explained everything that happened and she started crying and said a prayer for me which I thought was a very nice gesture. I wish I got her details to thank her for being next to and listening to me. I got home and my parents were waiting at the airport for me, my mum couldn't look at me as I knew she was ready to burst, my dad grabbed me and hugged me I felt the tears coming but I held back and grabbed my bag, this felt all to familiar and I dint know what I was going to say when I seen my wife. As I opened up the door to the single room I pretty much collapsed on my wife and started crying, all I could say was “sorry” “I should have been here" she asked me if I wanted to see her and my immediate response was “yes" when she came in everything came flooding back from when this happened with Olivia but she was much bigger this time, my wife had been 27 weeks into her pregnancy when this happened. she was beautiful, again a beautiful baby pink blanket with a little hat. some photos had been taken and I looked at them, my wife holding her and looking at her perfect little face, these first pictures should bring joy not sadness. Again burial arrangements were made and the same man carried out the service and it was just the two of us. Aimee was buried across from her sister just 10 feet away, I liked this because I knew they were close to each other. “this isn't right” I said to myself, I shouldn't have to bury 1 child let alone 2. Of course I got the usual “but how are YOU” “I'm doing good, trying to be strong for my wife” which was true but it was killing me inside. Driving to and from the office I would cry in the car, I would get upset at work and have to walk outside incase anyone seen me, explaining to the few people at work that knew she was pregnant what happened. The whole time this was happening to us others that were pregnant were now having their baby’s. This was extremely hard on both of us but they knew what we were going through and were very understanding. I am no writer by any stretch of the imagination but I wanted to share my experience to anyone else going through something similar, There is nothing wrong with showing your feelings and that you are hurting. I have found that I ask myself what if quite often. What if someone picked up that there was something wrong during a scan, what if I managed to get her to the hospital sooner, what if I wasn't away working, what if I made sure she ate healthier, and what if I made her quit her job so she was at home instead of work. I know I am not alone with thinking what if ? If you are going through this then talk to people open up, mention their names all this helps. Below is something I have found that I believe any man that has been through this type of situation will resinate with. It must be very difficult To be a man in grief, Since "men don't cry" and "men are strong" No tears can bring relief. It must be very difficult To stand up to the test, And field the calls and visitors So she can get some rest. They always ask if she's all right And what she's going through. But seldom take his hand and ask, "My friend, but how are you?" He hears her crying in the night And thinks his heart will break. He dries her tears and comforts her, But "stays strong" for her sake. It must be very difficult To start each day anew. And try to be so very brave- He lost his baby too.

#miscarriage fathersofmiscarriage itsoknottobeok mencrytoo

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chrysolina · 6 years

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Chris as a dad headcanons

A/N - Now I KNOW I’ve done some headcanons and fics very similar to this but since it just felt right to do so, here it is!! Our Captain and his rendition of being a parent!! Enjoy!!

Okay so let’s start of with the basic basics, the every beginning of yours and his journey - the big pregnancy reveal

At the time, Chris was unfortunately away wrapping up filming somewhere across the country and had left you, his just gone year long wife, to rest up at home back in Sudbury

It never occurred to you until you passed the fertility supplements and pregnancy tests that something inside was ‘off’

Your sudden cravings, change in moods, tender breasts, pudgy belly and vomiting - it all screamed the obvious in your face

Instead of taking time to think, you decided on taking two different tests home just to be on the safe side.

And it really was gonna happen, just an hour after you got back you had found out yours and Chris’ future like that - you were pregnant with yours and Chris baby!

And told him so the morning after when he came back, a little impromptu considering he was just about to fuck your brains out for being without you forever but it was, undeniably, cute as fuck

And so were his little quirks he’d develop as your belly ballooned and your pregnancy continued - late night belly rubs to put the baby to sleep, a part of him always touching you whenever, micro-analysing everything you did were just to make a few of the things Chris would do

And let’s not get started on the insecurity he’d have as you got bigger

“Y/N/N, are you sure she’ll like me? I don’t know if I couldn’t stand it if my own little princess hated me...”

“What happens if...”

“What happens when..”

You had to stop his ramblings on several occasions before it spiralled out of control and became a panic attack or something

And let me tell you that all those fears faded away to dust once he held your little girl in his arms, her tiny puffy Blue eyes fluttering open at the feeling of someone lurking above her

And the smile she gave you and Chris one afternoon after a good feeding

It just made your hearts MELT

And it wouldn’t be the last time your breath would catch at the sight of your little angel or Chris would do absolutely adorable

I cannot stress how much Chris would be that dad who’d stay up all night cradling his little girl on his chest because she can’t sleep

And he would most certainly be that dad who’d always fall asleep with her on his chest, hands splayed over his little sleeping body like a protective blanket.

Scroll on a year, through the terrible teething months and sleepless nights trying to pacify a bubbly baby now toddler - Chris can officially say he’s really getting the hang of this parenting thing.

From allowing his little angel to stand on his feet as they both practised how to walk to taking her on sets and showing her around, Chris had become the oblivious epitome of a protective dad who just couldn’t stand to see his baby upset or in danger

Which, on times, made for your intervention when he was getting a bit too protective.

It was when you were watching your little girl stumble her way around the living room that IT happened. No, not her first steps - but the first talks of maybe giving Y/D/N a little brother or sister

You two agreed on a few dates, numbers of children you’d like, work schedules etc and within the space of a year, Y/D/N was sat next to you in a hospital bed with her new baby brother in her lap, a very confused expression stuck on her little face

And so the cycle would start all over again

And again for baby number three

And once again for baby number four

But hell, does Chris care? Of course he doesn’t! HE’d even ask you to do ‘it’ once again if he could do it all again.

But in general, Chris would always be that dad who’d be there for his kids. To help them take their first steps, calm them from their first tantrum, take them to their first soccer or ballet recital/game - you couldn’t have asked for a better father to your children even if you went to God himself to ask (:

Chris / Steve rogers tags - @patzammit @tacohead13 @youreahandsomedevil @thisismysecrethappyplace @fanfic111

Permanent tags - @multireality @its-a-pretty-interesting-wall @coffeebooksandfandom @titty-teetee

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x pregnant!reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans headcanon #sgtevanstan halloween extravaganza #chris evans drabble #chris evans imagine #chris evans fluff #chris evans oneshot

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thirtyandpregnant · 5 years

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9/29 update ( long post )

I know I’ve been slacking on running this blog, but that was because outside of just trying to get pregnant these last nine months by tracking my cycle and taking ovulation tests I haven’t really done anything to make sure that me and my husband are physically in good condition to have a baby. I struggle a lot to take care of myself, very specifically by making doctors appointments that are necessary to make sure I’m in good health. Even with knowing that I’ve been trying to have a baby this whole year I only started seeing a primary doctor in February and for the first time in over ten years made an Ob appointment two weeks ago.

To start with the OB appointment it was very standard. Met with the doctor, had a pap done ( no news was good news so that’s all good thank goddess ) and had a consult about what to do about trying ( and failing ) to conceive. She could have done a lot more testing during that appointment ( blood work, ultrasound, etc ) but OB’s recommend starting a specialist after 1 year of failing to conceive. Since I am so close to that year she was afraid if she did those tests, and then the year mark came up and I didn’t get pregnant that insurance might not cover the same testing the Specialist would want to do because they would want to do it themselves. With that in mind she recommended just going right for the specialist now. So I did.

My specialist appointment was on Friday. I went with my husband and met with the Fertility specialist for a consult which included going over basic health questions, blood work on both me and my husband, and an invitro ultrasound on me.

Good news: My insurance covers everything up to IUI if I need it. So that made me feel better. One thing my ultrasound revealed was that my eggs look very good!

Medium news: As all doctors say gotta work on eating right, losing weight and exercising which I actually do at least 3-5 times a week. We have to wait a few weeks on the blood work to come back, and I need to wait til my next period to have a dye test done on my uterus.

Bad news: My husband’s pre diabetic condition could be causing infertility issues on his end that he needs to get checked. My ultrasound revealed a fibroid on the outside of my uterus that was pretty big. On one hand the fibroid on the outside means nothing. She wouldn’t even be worried about it at all so long as there are none on the inside of my uterus. If there are they could be causing infertility problems on my end due to either blocking the Fallopian tube or just being in the way in general and will need to be removed. I won’t know if there are any there until my dye test is done.

now I know that is very common. I know that a fibroid is benign. I know I might only have the one and then there is nothing to worry about at all. I’m still mad though. I’m mad that I have it at all. I’m mad that its genetic which means my mother probably passed it on to me and that means she is just getting in the way of something I want again in my life. I’m mad that she could have 4 pregnancies and be as horrible as a person as she is and I am taking forever to get pregnant. I’m mad that anyone I talk to in my life just tells me ‘it’s fine, it will happen oh those aren’t that big of a deal, I thought you were going to tell me something bad’ Well yeah I’m grateful it’s not actual cancer or anything like that but to me this is bad. To me this is just another obstacle I have to worry about. To me... I’m just mad.

Anyway it’s the waiting game again. I’ll update you when I feel like it. XOXO.

#ttc #ttc over 30 #ttccommunity #ttcjourney

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ladywithoutababy · 3 years

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IVF Transfer #1: 41 weeks pregnant

Did you know you can be 10 months pregnant? How about 10 and a half? Because for first time babies, the average length of pregnancy is 41 weeks and 3 days. (We did not know this.)

Logically, I know how averages work, and that I should have been prepared to have my baby at 41 weeks and 3 days, or even later. Emotionally, I’ve been having a breakdown in slow motion since we passed our “due date” (absolute bs) a week ago.

Here’s what it’s like to be 41 weeks pregnant:

I’d always heard that people who go past their due date think the baby is never going to arrive, and didn’t understand why that would be your reaction. But now, as with so many fertility/pregnancy tropes, I get it. It’s not like a hyperbolic expression (”this baby’s never going to come out lol”) – I’ve literally been starting to fear that this is an indication that something is wrong, or that there never was a baby in there in the first place, and that after all this I won’t get to have a baby after all. I know this is irrational. I don’t know how to convince my brain that it’s irrational. I wonder if this is common for people who’ve gone through infertility. I feel totally insane.

I’m already two weeks into my maternity leave because I was terrified of not being ready in case the baby came early (ha). I'm anxious and bored because I can’t distract myself with work, and can’t stop thinking about the leave time that I’m “wasting”. Everyone keeps telling me it’s not a waste and I should enjoy this time and when the baby’s here I’ll wish I could go back in time to when I had nothing to do, but that’s like when you’re in college and grownups keep telling you to enjoy it because after college you have to be an adult – doesn’t really work in the moment, does it?

Speaking of everyone, a big hallmark of going past your due date is every person you’ve ever met texting you on a daily basis to ask incredulously if you’re still pregnant. I know they’re trying to help (and on some level, it does help my mental state to have people checking in), but it just adds to the feeling that there’s something wrong with me and that I owe everyone an explanation for why this is taking so long.

The pelvic pain. My god. I wish I had the words to describe this. Well, I guess it feels like a large baby head is resting on my pelvis at all times. It started as discomfort maybe a month ago and has progressed into constant pain. I can’t sit comfortably, especially for long periods of time. I can’t lay on my back because then my organs get crushed. Laying on my side feels ok but then is excruciating when I have to shift positions or sit up (because it moves all that weight right back on top of my poor pelvis). My pelvic bones now click when I sit up, apparently because ligaments are loosening and they’re just rattling around in there. I know, gross. I keep telling myself this is all part of my body getting ready – it’s a good thing if my ligaments are “loose” (ew) – but see bullet #1.

My fingers are swollen, like everyone said they would be, but they also hurt; I’m not sure if this is because I’m predisposed to arthritic joint pain or if this is a normal late pregnancy thing for everyone.

I’m so mad at my husband. Just all the time. He’s trying his best (and he’s been really an angel throughout this whole pregnancy), but there’s unfortunately not a whole lot he can do to make me more comfortable or less crazy, and I think we’re both just out of patience at this point. TEN MONTHS IS SUCH A LONG TIME.

I’ve been going into the doctor weekly since 37 or 38 weeks, and at 39 weeks they started doing a weekly non-stress test (”NST”) where they make sure the baby’s heart rate accelerates when he moves, and an ultrasound to check his size and my amniotic fluid. I think normally you don’t start doing this until 40 or 41 weeks, but because I’m “advanced maternal age” (omg 35 so old 🙄) they started early. I have my 41 week appointment today, and will have to talk to them about scheduling an induction – they don’t like you to go past 42 weeks, especially if you’re over 35. Look ladies, I don’t like to go past 42 weeks either.

I had always thought of induction as a no-brainer, like an easy out once you get tired of being pregnant, but there really don’t seem to be any of those when it comes to fertility and pregnancy. Everything has risks, so you end up constantly weighing pros and cons and never knowing if you’re making the “right” decision. Apparently if you get induced, it can mean more pain, longer labor, higher risk of bleeding, higher risk of other interventions which each carry their own risks for you and the baby, etc etc. So, while the induction is tempting because it would give me a hard date to look forward to, I’m still hoping this baby decides to show up on his own.

Yes, there are also “natural” induction methods. (Wow, you can really tell how grouchy I am by how many quotes I use in a blog post, huh?) Most of them – eating dates, drinking raspberry leaf tea, acupuncture, suppositories – don’t seem to have any real evidence that they work. And the ones that do have some (low) rate of success are incredibly unappealing. Are you ready? They are:

A membrane sweep, where your doctor “separates the membrane that surrounds your baby from the lower part of your uterus down by your cervix“. It’s painful, can lead to non-constructive contractions that just make you uncomfortable and unable to sleep, can break your water in a way that requires emergency medical intervention, and doesn’t work the majority of the time.

Sex, which everyone recommends but then immediately follows up with the caveat that you probably don’t feel like having sex, and when they were pregnant they either couldn’t bring themselves to do it, or they did it and had a horrible time (everyone I know who’s managed to do it in their final weeks of pregnancy only did it once, which should give you an idea of how fun it is). Also, this doesn’t work the majority of the time.

Nipple stimulation. I swear to god, if one more person suggests this, I’m going to... I don’t know what. But I would really like people to stop suggesting it. First of all, stop talking about my nipples. Secondly, I can’t imagine anything less annoying right now than someone stimulating my nipples. Thirdly, this doesn’t work the majority of the time. Fourthly, when it does work, it’s after stimulating nipples for TWO HOURS PER DAY.

The whole thing is really kind of funny, isn’t it.

And that’s that. I’ve been pregnant forever. I’m not complaining. I still feel very grateful to be pregnant. But it’s weird how even at this point, the actual “baby” still seems hypothetical. I hope he becomes real soon.

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fostertoforever · 7 years

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Infertility.

This one goes out to all the ladies struggling out there… The women who desperately want to be a mother. Who physically ache in defeat month after month after month. The ones who pay thousands of dollars to get poked, prodded, and pumped full of hormones in hopes of a miracle. Who take their temperatures and pee on sticks and hang upside down in hopes of creating life. The ones who lose faith in their bodies….faith in their God as time goes on and failures continue. As your biological clock continues to tick on and every pregnancy announcement you see gets more and more devastating- not because you’re not profoundly happy for them, but because there are no words to describe the sadness you feel for YOU. There is a unique pain that comes from loving a child that might never exist. It’s extremely hard to wait for something that may never happen, but harder to let go when it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. You fall apart, then start again, fall apart, start again, fall apart, start again. You hear other mothers complaining about their kids, about their pregnancies and you think, “God, what I would give to have one day of your life! Don’t you understand how lucky you are, you twit?!?!” You get told, “Ugh! You can have my kid! He’s driving me crazy!” (Oh yeah, because that’s a big consolation prize for my infertility, thanks). You find out that so and so is pregnant AGAIN when she doesn’t even take care of the ones she has! She said she’s too selfish to have a baby, that she hates kids, and my personal favorite, “a baby is the worst STD you can get,” but there they are. Pregnant. Again and again. Weekend flings gone wrong. Drug addicted women having sex to score drugs are giving birth but you can’t. You can’t, you can’t, you can’t. But you keep trying and trying, don’t you? Because medicine is not an exact science and you convince yourself there’s hope- there’s always hope, right? This time it’ll be different. Doctors scratch their heads and say, “Let’s try this” month after month and you follow the rules to a tee! You take your vitamins, you don’t drink caffeine or alcohol, you exercise, you journal, and you pray. You are strong. You are made for this. “It’ll happen, I just know it!” you tell yourself…And then you walk by the baby section at Walmart, and you die inside. And suddenly you’re the crazy lady in aisle 12 sobbing over burp cloths. Because it’s too difficult to think that everything you’re doing won’t work. That this is all for nothing. I remember through my fertility treatments, my doctor recommended I talk to a therapist about my issues, my feelings of inadequacy for not being able to get pregnant. I think she was getting nervous because of my hysterical sobbing (and sometimes angry outbursts) at every appointment when they’d tell me I didn’t ovulate again that month. So, I went. I sat in this guy’s office and poured my heart and soul out and all he could say was, “I don’t think there’s anything more beautiful than a pregnant woman. I hope it works out.” Seriously. I came unglued. Yes, pregnant women are beautiful. You know what else is beautiful, dufus? STRONG women. Women who have tried, who’ve failed, and who’ve pulled themselves up, put their big girl panties back on, and tried again. Should’ve known better than to pour my infertile heart out to someone with a penis. Let’s be honest here. (I apologize to any of my readers who are reading this and who have a penis. No offense, but this post is mostly for the ladies.) It’s been over 4 years since I went through this, and let me tell you, it STILL hurts. I STILL ache and I STILL grieve for that baby I’ll never have. It sounds stupid, right? Get over it, Jess. I have a son after all. I’ve had him since birth. He calls me Mommy. I have no reason to have those feelings, right? Wrong. It never goes away for me. I am profoundly sad I’ll never feel the kick of life in my belly. That my body will never be able to make a life, grow a life, and bring life of another human being into this world. I frequently feel like less of a woman. I do. And it hurts like hell. Still. And I admit that I am sooo bitter and soooo angry when I hear of abuse, neglect, drugs, etc. towards children, which is an occupational hazard in my line of work. Women that don’t deserve to be mothers- who clearly do not understand the miracle that is motherhood- getting knocked up all over the place. Sigh. So, when did I give up hope? When did I finally accept my infertile fate? It was shortly after the final phone call on October 29, 2012 when my doctor called and said, “We overlooked a test result. This one little hormone shows that you don’t have a lot of eggs and unless you do IVF, which will be a stretch, it’s going to be very difficult for you to conceive. And even then, with your other issues, you may not be able to carry a baby to term. Maybe you should consider surrogacy.” My world stopped. Maybe I had known this in my head for awhile, but I had never accepted it in my heart. I was always so sure it was going to work out- that I was meant to be pregnant. For a brief moment, I considered begging my family for their life savings. I considered quitting my job and moving to Syracuse, New York, to be near a good IVF clinic. I thought of what friend I could ask to be my oven and have a baby for me. Seriously. But after about 5 minutes of these crazy thoughts (which were done hugging my toilet on the floor of my bathroom- because I wanted to puke after I got off the phone), I knew my journey was over. This was the end of the road. (And yes, I’m totally singing Boyz to Men now). So, my husband and I decided to do foster care. We gave up on the dream of pregnancy, but we never gave up the dream of becoming parents. Four years later, we are getting ready to celebrate our son’s 4th birthday. We have a little baby girl in our home, who I thank God every single day is with us. I wake up every morning and look at her sweet, chubby face and am so grateful for another day with her. When times are tough and I’m uncertain of the future or I play the “what if” game, I’m reminded of what I just wrote- we never gave up the dream of becoming parents. Motherhood came to me in a way I had never dreamed of, but it was no less of a miracle. Maybe I’ll never get to grow a baby in my belly, but I’ve got two growing in my heart and that’s an amazing blessing. And just because I still think of the baby I never got to create, doesn’t mean I don’t love the two precious angels that were chosen for me any less. I have friends going through the long struggle of fertility treatments right now- wonderful women who would be amazing mommies. And I can see it in their faces. I know their pain and I know their heartbreak. They smile and go on with their days and pretend it’s all ok. Believe me when I tell you it’s not an easy dream to give up on. The pain will always be there. BUT the hole in your heart can be filled. It seems impossible, I know you don’t believe me, I know you think pregnancy is the only option, but it’s true. There are little people out there who need you, who are just waiting on you. After I laid eyes on my Baby P for the first time, I knew why the fertility treatments never worked. He was MY baby. And yes, the journey to forever sucked. I’m not going to sugar coat it. But he is mine and I am his and we get to live happily ever after…at least until his teenage years. Ha. Foster care isn’t for everyone. I know this better than anyone. And this isn’t some sales pitch for DHHR to get you to sign up. But I KNOW there is a need. I KNOW lots of babies need homes. When I tell people I’m a foster mother, I still get the “Oh my gosh, I could NEVER do that!” But, you’d be surprised what you’re capable of when given the opportunity. The system sucks at times. Those workers are overworked and underpaid. The goal of foster care is reunification with their family. Blood is thicker than any love and security my husband and I can provide for these kids- a fact that I sincerely struggle with, but fully accept. It’s not easy. But it’s what we signed up for. I could have either spent my life savings and my family’s life savings to try IVF and/or surrogacy OR I could’ve opened my home and my heart to children in need with the knowledge I may have to give them back. Double edged sword. What’s worse? It was a gamble we took and we won with P, but it was a hard game to play. Will we get lucky with Baby C? Time will tell. We never gave up on the dream to become parents. Bio, Foster, Adoptive, Step…..it truly doesn’t matter what comes before the word “parent.” What does matter is the love you give. We wanted to be parents. I always thought I was born to be a mother. I THOUGHT that would happen through pregnancy. Turns out, I WAS meant to be a mother, just in a different way. It doesn’t make the role any less important, especially in the eyes of my babies. My husband and I weren’t meant to create a life, but we were meant to change one (or two or three or four). We have the power to say “Nope. I am not going to let their lives be this way” and work every day to provide a safe, healthy, home full of love and laughter so these kiddos can thrive- whether they are with us forever or not. It’s pretty simple. Heart wrenching, yes, but simple. And so I truly encourage those families out there who are struggling with infertility and the immense pain and sadness that can go with it to consider opening their hearts and home to these babies in need. It’s not easy, but clearly, neither is infertility. So, to my fellow infertile sisters out there…please don’t let your hurt and your wounds stop you from becoming a mother. Don’t let defeat after defeat turn you into something you’re not. You are strong, you are valuable and you matter whether your stupid uterus is cooperating or not. And I am here to share my story and commiserate with you any hour of any day. Until next time, Mama Jess

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pumpkincalnee · 5 years

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acceptance of a chronic illness

It has been 6 years (more or less) that I have been dealing with what seems like severe skin issues. When this all started in 2013, no one knew what was happening to me, and various assumptions were made. My mom strongly believed the cause to be that the off-campus housing I was living in was too dirty. My dermatologists thought it was from improper skin care. My doctor thought it was from a staph infection. My specialist thought my symptoms had a hormonal component and the likely cause was my birth control pills or the pituitary adenoma they found on an MRI of my brain. I thought it was from topical steroid usage.

But whatever the cause, the medical treatment has been about the same no matter who I saw (and see). I'm advised to moisturize more with different moisturizers and then prescribed rounds of antibiotics and prescription on prescription of topical steroids (and often oral steroids too if I'm looking particularly bad). The result has also been the same- some clearing up of the skin, followed by a precipitous dive into new flares as I taper off the steroids. It's almost like my skin is addicted to steroids. What I mean by that is that because I have been applying exogenous (not made from my body) steroids for so long, my skin has adapted. So when I stop using the steroids (or at this point, when I start decreasing the amount as recommended) my skin, having slowed its natural cortisol production in response, suddenly can't remember how to make enough cortisol. As the blood all rushes back to the skin, with it comes all the inflammation that the topical steroids had kept at bay. (Oh and as an aside, the reason people can't stay on topical steroids forever is because it thins out your skin over time and can also make you very sensitive to sunlight).

With addictions generally, I've heard you can take one of two approaches: drop it cold turkey or reduce it measurably over time. Both types of approaches have been attempted with my skin. The research behind tapering when your skin is already addicted has been changing a lot and so every doctor has a slightly different plan about how to do it. Unfortunately, every plan results with me having worser flares from the moment I start the taper. It is for that reason that I usually opt for the cold turkey approach.

The problem with cold turkey is that I haven't lasted more than 2 years. At some point I'll eventually give in and go to a new dermatologist and they will scare me into using steroids and antibiotics again. One told me my organs were also inflamed because my skin was (this was said off-handedly when I mentioned my fear of topical steroid withdrawal. No tests were done to confirm such a statement). Another said my choices were steroids or cyclosporine (an immune-suppressant given to patients getting organ transplants so their bodies don't reject the new organ. To be on them requires kidney function monitoring, and your ability to fight off things like the common cold is reduced). Another said that skin regenerates by every 3 weeks so there was no way my skin would still have issues with tapering off. And yet another said I should just use topical steroids as needed just on my rougher spots, but then gave no general instructions about how long "as needed" is, if the skin keeps flaring.

This isn't a blame game towards dermatology (anymore: that was an older stage of grieving). At this point I am more interested in the cultural acceptance for myself and by others of this state of being chronically ill. I'll be honest, it's incredibly difficult to do for myself. I constantly think about how life will be if and when I heal, what things I'll be able to pick back up, what things I'll be able to try. But deep down I have to accept I might not heal. Lately, I've been banking on biologics (Dupixent) to save the day and I just keep being like "okay I'm breastfeeding now but once we're done, so long as I dont plan to have another child, I can go on these groundbreaking but experimental drugs." I have to think about life decisions in that way because no one knows the effects of these medications on fertility or pregnancy, and if I use them I am not willing to take the risk. Harder still is that their efficacy isn't even guaranteed!

As a result, I'm always forced to think ahead. So much of my experience as a first time mother has already been influenced by my condition. It's not just dry skin. My body reacts like it's allergic to everything, even to holding my baby's head on my bare arms when breastfeeding. I always wear loose flannel over myself to not have that skin contact. I can't give my baby baths as easily because my hands freak out from that kind of water exposure (washing my hands in general makes my hands itch like crazy and sometimes break into hives). I can't do crazy sweat-inducing heat-generating workouts as easily without needing breaks to let my skin cool and dry off so I don't scratch myself to death. This also means carrying my baby strapped to my body on a warm day eventually makes my stomach flare up. I am becoming increasing sensitive to new allergens, like developing allergies even to my childhood dog and a lot of my friends' houses.

This condition also impacts my ability to sleep. Sometimes I'm kept up at night by my baby, but often times it's my condition that does it; my skin going through thermoregulating issues or being triggered by friction, sweat, air temperature deviance, my husband's body heat, stress, etc all irritating my body so I am either scratching or my skin is heating up and weeping, or cracking as it dries out. It's a neverending battle to not fear going to bed though I know I need the sleep, because I get so nervous about how uncomfortable the night will be.

And then all the while that I'm slowly learning to accept my own condition as a state of being, I have to figure out how to validate myself to the world. The most common attitude I receive from others is that I am just negligent in using moisturizers, which results in a lot of product recommendations from coconut oil to castor oil, Eucerin to Aquaphor. The challenge is getting people to realize that it's not just a dry skin issue. I often have sporadic allergic reactions to products (no matter how natural) because it's an autoimmune issue. Over the past few months I have reacted to coconut oil, and then vaseline, and then vitamin E oil. Now all three are fine to use.

This condition also impacts what I can eat. I once had a date (the fruit), and immediately broke out hives all over my lips. This happens with foods I previously could and will again be able to eat. The reason is because my issue is internal. The skin is just an unfortunate symptom. And yes sure, if I can consistently figure out how to keep my skin closed (no weeping or open wounds) maybe my other symptoms will slow, but my skin didn't flare up one day in 2013 in a vacuum; something else triggered it.

The next challenge I face is convincing people that this is more than skin deep. I have had people tell me that eczema (the blanket term for having rashes like mine anywhere on your body) is not an autoimmune disorder. One, it definitely is, and two, when you get to my severity level (aka chronic and where the whole body is affected) you have to recognize something else is at play. My eosinophil levels (a type of white blood cell) are often off the charts. I'm talking 6000 units when normal is 60. And again my inner mouth and throat aren't affected by eczema yet they break out in hives fairly randomly. My digestion also can get messed up at a drop of a hat and I often know I'm in a healing phase when I have bowel movements again. Not to mention joint swelling and swollen lymph nodes even in regions of my body where the skin is intact. My body's immune system is definitely overactive.

The next issue comes from dermatologists. I honestly don't know why I keep expecting a different plan of care, as their profession literally meaning the study of skin, but I'm always bummed when they come at me from the approach of only how to fix my skin. Like I said, the problem is my skin isn't the cause. So if they just give me meds for my skin, I finish the medications and the symptoms return because the cause hasn't been found and treated.

All this is to say that finding a way to accept my life as it has become, and getting others to realize what it's like has been difficult. I'm naturally a very anxious person, and the rapid onset of this condition followed by years of being a "medical mystery" and now basically a non-compliant patient (at least towards any derm that recommends steroids yet again without having new scientific evidence proving efficacy in case studies similar to mine) have made me quite wary. I don't have good faith that people will understand what it's like or why I am constantly reinventing my future. Why I constantly change my diet. Why I adopt these "hippie" approaches to skin care like refusing topical steroids or going moisturizer-free during wet flares. I'm not trying to be difficult or ignore medical advice. I'm working to figure out this body I'm in as it is, and treating it gently as I re-meet it and get to know it, accepting that yes, I may now always be chronically ill even though I still remember a time when that wasn't the case. And yeah maybe there will be a cure and/or I will heal one day, but until that time I have to meet myself where I'm at now.

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