What to Think?

So I heard about this story on the news a few days ago and thought it was one of those "myth buster" shows. Then I saw in Pe*ple Magazine and realized it must be true. It is true.... what?

It turns out it's no myth at all and it's certainly not some kind of freak show either. It's a story of a transman who was smart enough to keep the girl parts that allow some of us to create a child. I'm not saying that trans men who choose to opt out of all things female are stupid, I'm sure they're not. But for this guy & his wife - what a bonus!

I have to admit, I couldn't stop looking at the photo of him with that beautiful belly full of baby. Like me, you must be curious. & imagine... being a woman, married to a man and having a conversation that went something like this:

Wife: I'm just so tired of this ttc thing. I've tried and tried and failed and failed. I think we need to start looking into other options.

Hubby: Honey...I'm so sorry. I wish it wasn't so hard. Hey, I just thought of something! Why would we consider further options when we have another perfectly healthy womb right here? (points to self)

Many of you have had this same conversation (well, the YOU that are lesbians) but I bet you never thought that the hetero couple down the street could possibly do the same thing. Yeah, me neither. I think it's amazing.



Thoughts?

I'm a Swinger

Still nothing. Like stale air I just sit here and wonder what is happening with my body. I'm still waiting for cd1 and it looks to be nowhere in sight. Maybe I've begun my own personal summer. :) (I've always wanted to put that in writing.) Maybe my body is trying to tell me that it's tired of me filling it with chemicals so it acts according to the script I write. My head is tired too. As is my heart.

Cristy met me at home early yesterday. She called my boss at 2pm and requested he boot me out the door. It was very sweet, actually. She took me to a movie to hold my hand for two hours. She reminded me how special we are and how this is just a small piece of what our lives will hold. She knows I have issues at failing with this. My last relationship took a huge blow with the fact that I couldn't conceive. Not because of her, but me. I held the blame back then. All I could think of were the promises I had made - that I would carry the rest of our children. But I never could. This time, we share it. We share the process as much as we'll share the result. It feels beautiful and safe and reassuring. And it makes me all too excited to get there.

It's crazy to want something so much and not get it. I'm not a spoiled brat or anything but I don't think the average Jane waits this long for anything. I mean, I've been there before but ttc is a whole new ballgame. Typically you can work toward something. Like, you try for months and months - even years - then you should get closer to the goal. I mean, you're trying that whole time. We must be getting better at it, right? Closer to it actually working?

Maybe it's like softball. I played that damn game for 3 years when I was small. I showed up at every practice, swung at the ball and aimed my mitt to catch pop-ups. But I never got better. I was terrible. The poor coach of the Green Machines, my team, finally just asked me to stop swinging. I had better luck to walk. He was right.

ug, that sounds pathetic. Don't worry, I'm not that down on myself. Sometimes I just wonder when it is that I'll move on to another "way". We talk about all of our options and I feel so fortunate that we have so many. But right now, this is the one I choose.

I'm swinging, damnit.

My One Night Stand

I got your attention, right? I'm not talking about that kind of one night stand. Tonight we went to a comic/monologue called My One * Night * Stand With * Cancer, by Tania Katan.

She wrote a book about her experience with breast cancer. Her first bout at age 21. And another at 31. She talks about her life and it's almost like a dance. She's a Jewish, lesbian playwright (probably not in that order) and she's had an incredible life experience. It's amazing. At the end she ripped off her shirt and stood there with bravery draped across her chest - proud that she was still standing before us. I sat there - stunned...knowing I wouldn't be that strong in the same situation.

I'm telling you this because you first must read the book. Although...I feel like a hypocrite for saying that as I haven't yet read it. But I'll have it my sticky hands tomorrow and I'll read it right away. THEN, you must see the show. Just look it up and see what you think. I'm not kidding. It's funny - witty, charming, heart breaking, scary and then funny all over again. I laughed so hard and then I thought, "you know, I really need to have my first mammogram."

My grandma had a double mastectomy. & they didn't get it all. She likes to say the had a triple mastectomy. I remember playing with her silicone filled bra when I was little. My family used to laugh at me when I put it on & ran around the house. I wonder now, what bra was she wearing when I did that?

Anyway, it's something I think about all the time. I think things like, "my mom should be sure to do self breast exams" or "I would die if my mom got cancer". But I never think it could be me. I'm too young. But I'm way older than 21. I'm even older than 31. & I heard that lesbians have a higher chance of breast cancer because so many of us don't have children/breast feed. I'm not sure if that's accurate but it's enough to add another reason to my list of why I really want to have a baby. :)

So do it. Go get the book. And then tell me what you think. I was moved and I kinda think you will be too. And before you do that, go see Turtle & Butterfly and give her some love $$. She's taking the high road later this fall and doing something wonderful for those who came before her and those that are surviving!

btw...11dpo & I'm surviving over here too. :)

"Lost"

Does anyone else still watch this show? Finally, tonight, it's back. Jack, Kate, Sawyer, Hurlie...

I've watched it since it's first episode. It's about a group of people who crashed in a plane. And when they crashed, they found faith. All of their lives had been mishaped. They had trials that weren't be handled in a healthy way. One girl was pregnant and alone. Another was paralized and wanting to die. They crash on this island that has slowly, over three seasons, given them faith in one thing - the mirror of themselves.

Today was a hard day. I feel as if we've been thrown under a bus - I feel it for my friends and their friends. We were part of a group that had been lumped together to gain a little ground and stand a little stronger. There were three parts to our group. & let's just say, the other two left my part behind. The worst part? I get it.

As I spent all that time fighting for Gracie, I never wondered how bad I might make it for a mother behind me. Of course, people would tell me so I knew the possibility but it didn't matter. I was fighting on behalf of my daughter. If I could save her, I could work on the rest of them later. But that's what parents do. There was nothing that could have convinced me not to fight for her incase of creating bad law. I was fighting for her, not my people.

So now, that's what these people are doing. We hoped that a Bill that protected us all would pass through with flying colors. Instead, they cut us out to guarantee passage. (kinda like HRC did with ENDA...) Now, children of step-parents and grandchild of grandparents will never lose those relationships because there will be a law to protect them. But our children won't be included. Everyone's children but ours.

I found myself the "mirror of myself" today. Lost. I felt like karma had come to kick my ass. I was willing to sacrifice others to protect my daughter. The other parts of my army did the same thing today. They did and they should have. I can't blame them. Hundreds of children will be safe from the very thing Gracie wasn't. I'm grateful for that.

This bill has nothing at all to do with our adoption bill and we are still going full steam ahead with that. If it passes, the other won't matter. If it doesn't, we have to work that much harder next year. Wish us luck - lots of it.

Forgiveness (I might be preaching a little)

If you've read here for a while, you know this word has been a common thorn for me. I pretend to let things go and try to move forward but then I hear myself say things like, "except for them" and "I guess I deserve that". I remind myself daily that I can feel whatever I feel but that holding on to what ails me, dampens my spirit and keeps me from feeling whole. But then I give myself permission to keep holding on to it. It's a vicious cycle.

I've thought a lot lately about things I count as "unforgivable". - certain people who made it their priority to separate me from my daughter, certain people who will punish me until the end of time for something I can no longer say I'm sorry for, myself for a million little things that weigh so heavy in my heart. 'Tis the season for forgiveness and I still can't grasp what I wish for most - to begin again without holding or placing blame.

Like a twelve year old, I look at myself in the mirror some days and see an internal tantrum. I'm still mad. I still have thoughts that cling to my shoulder muscles and wake me from my sleep. I'll hear someones name and I'm angry in an instant as though I'm back in the courtroom, listening to hateful words and lies - even people I've already "forgiven" can bring me right back there.

I'm reminded every time I turn on the radio that what we wish for will be granted by simply saying it out loud. Not in a "click your heels" sort of way but by prayer. Whomever you pray to or wish to, if you do and once you do, you're forgiven. If I made a mistake and I'm sorry, I say I'm sorry. I let it go and "it's as far as the East is from the West". & if I don't, the bible says I'm insulting God by asking for forgiveness twice. - that I'm not trusting in Him to forgive me the first time I asked. In God's eyes, I am perfect. He would know, right? :) My mistakes are part of my free agency. He asks that I do my best and be my best. I try to keep a positive spirit - live my life in a way that makes me proud to repeat it.

So why can't I do this? What are they rules around how long it takes? Because I actually feel pretty good until I realize that the result after my "ask" still leaves me without her. & then I go back to punishing myself & grabbing back all the "forgiveness" I've doled out - because it starts over and it's a vicious, endless cycle. And maybe it doesn't start all the way over but you get it.

It's almost been a year. And a year ago I thought this day would never be. I thought I'd see her every Christmas, every New Years, every "all the time" - forever. & I get stuck with knowing where to start living differently. Or maybe I've already begun but I don't like it. Maybe that's why I can't let the bad stuff go - because at least it's part of her. It's just big and I'd like to give it all away. Maybe I'll send it to one of those people I haven't forgiven - for Christmas. :) See, I can still be funny.

But this I know:

"To forgive is to set a prisoner free and then discover the prisoner was you."

I'll still work on it.

Birthday Eve

It's mine this time! Tomorrow morning, I will be thirty-seven years old! God all mighty - hold back the tears! Well, that's a bit dramatic but it does seem strange to be heading to forty.

Remember the day when you had your whole life planned? I was sure to be married at 23 and have three kids by the time I was finished being 26. Two girls and a boy. I think their names were something like "Chanda, Patricia & Christopher". Not pretty. I think they even had nicknames. Odd. They would be perfectly dressed at all times in their pinks and blues. I would have a house and a husband. (insert cough) I would be some kind of part-time movie star or talk show host - married to some kind of rock star. It was lovely. But all of the sudden I was finished being 26, realizing my life was kicking along and looking nowhere near what I thought it would be - in a good way.

That year I had been with my first girlfriend for about four years. We had started talking about having kids but (thank God) didn't do much more than talk about it. We had a house and a couple of dogs but it was one of those relationships where we were simply the only lesbians we knew so of course we should be a couple, right? Wrong. At 26, I knew I was on the wrong track.

A few years later, back on the track of beginning my life...I fell in love with the first rock star I found, got married, had a baby and thought I was living the dream. Wrong. Turns out, after watching a recent commercial she did, she knew she wasn't gay as soon as "God allowed her to be pregnant". A train wreck of mistakes and what ifs and life fell apart right before my eyes. You all know how that turned out.

Fast forward to now. This is my last day being 36. Ten years ago I was supposed to have everything I wanted but now, finally, I feel like I'm in my groove. I am exactly who I'd like to be and exactly where I fit and grow and heal and dream. I am loved wholly by the most wonderful person I've ever known and feel lucky every day for it. I have friends and family who I trust will always hold my heart and I plan and dream in a way I've never dared.

Here's to the rest of my life! Cheers!

Facing Demons

I feel like I've been doing that a lot lately...facing demons. I don't mean it literally. Mostly. But I've had some experiences this month that have really thrown me back into the nightmare of my battle for Gracie.

First, I spoke with her. That alone was facing the demon of again wondering every single day when/if I'll ever speak with her again. I also spoke to her other mother in a way that felt very peaceful, familiar and normal. Then I ended up back at the same courthouse where I spent years (many) fighting against hurtful/hateful people that I never even knew existed. And today, I sat before the Utah Supr*me Court Justices that changed my ruling and took my daughter away.

I was attending a reception for my friend that just received his law degree. They swore him in and continued to talk about justice and ethics, equality and righteousness. I had no idea they would be there and listening to the Chief Justice brought a heaviness in me that left me full of tears. She stood up for my daughter. She, alone, cared about her and not the law. She, alone, said her name. It mattered to her what my daughter would lose. But no one else. The others that sat on that stage today never said her name - never thought about the loss.

I stared at them and wondered what it must be like to make decisions like that. Do they look out into an audience and know that they've changed a life sitting right before them? Do they wonder about her and how her life might be now?

In a strange way, I feel like I've been full circle. I suppose something else could happen that would prove me wrong.

To keep the ball rolling, I called her. No answer. She hasn't answered since that day and it breaks my heart every time I try. And it makes me question what I did right the day she picked up the phone. How can I re-do that?

I miss her. It seems like planning for another baby makes me ache for her so much more. I miss her being my baby. I miss the idea of knowing how happy she'd be to have a baby sister. I miss the funny things she says. I miss her lisp and every "l" word that starts with a "yu" sound. I miss her perfect little lips and squinty rootbeer eyes when she smiles. I miss the way she tantrums. I miss her poorly painted toenails and fly away hair. I miss her prayers. I miss her songs.

I miss you baby girl. I miss you tonight. And I'll miss you again tomorrow. I wish I were lying next to you and running my hands through your hair. I wish I could wake you tomorrow and spend Halloween trick or treating with you. I will think of you a thousand times. I will think of every costume you've ever worn and know that this year, you'll be a beautiful Princess...again.

Sweet dreams.

When it rains...

It's been a hard week. I like to blame it on astrology and say that my planet is out of line from my moon - or something. If I read enough horoscopes, I'm sure to find one or two that affirm it.

You are all so wonderful about listening to me and telling me I'm okay. You're like little friends in my pocket - I can just pull up this blog and if I'm feeling blurry, you remind me that I'm doing fine. And I guess I know I am.

I spent years with a woman who told me I had never done anything brave in my life. I'm not sure if it was a challenge or just a way to make me smaller but I did my best to prove to her otherwise. It didn't work. The word "brave" is not something to which I relate. To hear you say it gives me strength but I really feel like I stand on so many shoulders to be as strong as I am.

I've spent too much time inside my head and finally crashed to earth yesterday during lunch. Hard and heavy. There's a lot to think about and far too much to feel. And with everything so busy lately, the noise is beginning to overwhelm me. I showed up at work ready to implode but instead my boss thought it a better idea to ex'plode. He was right. I felt better letting it out. J called me when I walked through the door to remind me that I had an appointment with an Energy Doctor at 3:30. All I could think of what that I was so emotional that she would surely peg me as "unworkable". I stressed myself out about it after I assured J that I wouldn't. (but you knew I would, right?) I have such an ignorance/aversion to hokey things and I was worried that my spirituality would be taken out of the equation. I always close off to that. But my dear friend reminded me that God speaks through everyone and this just might be the way I finally hear what I need to - not for closure but just to manage what is.

I took some time to talk and cry and felt better before I went.

I walked in and I was so nervous. I have not had any luck with any kind of therapy since this journey with(out) Gracie. It seems people are far too interested in the parts I don't want to talk about - like the Court part of it. I expected the worst from her. I had stubbornly decided I wouldn't be talking. J & E had already told me this would be fine. "energy work doesn't need talking" - then that's what I'll do! Perfect!

But she was soft and kind and I'm certain she's lived dozens of interesting lives. & not because she hasn't fulfilled them but because she wants to keep learning and teaching. Oddly enough, the clock rang 1 hour and 15 minutes later and I was still spilling my life onto the floor like hot chocolate sauce that would harden if I didn't keep spilling. It was so strange that I didn't even know what I had said. - or what she had asked. She knew things about me before I said anything other than names of people I hold closely. She told me how I felt about those people just by the energy I gave off when speaking their names. She knew when I loved someone, when I missed someone and when I was scared by someone. She knew things - not in a "i can read your mind" way but in a "i can see your soul" way. She was standing behind me, holding my head, for the longest time. And she started crying. I felt terrible about it and wanted to comfort her but before I could say anything she said, "just let me go". I swear I wanted to die. But then she moved her thumb and my veins were filled with cold water. I felt like I was floating and I think she stopped crying.

When I got off the table, I felt taller. I know, it even sounds funny when I write it. But seriously, I kept looking at the ground because it seemed so much farther away. And when I walked out her door I walked into a lobby I hadn't seen going in. There was a hard floor and stairs I didn't remember. She's magic. She explained myself to me and while I don't like that whole "i know you and you don't" thing, it felt very genuine - almost scary. She moved my insides. Who does that? Hokey, Magic Lady! I'm telling you!

She gave me homework so we'll see how it goes. If nothing else, at least I'll end up a bit taller. A girl can always use a few more inches upward.

Becoming Jane

We went to this movie tonight. I'm not a big Anne Hath*way fan but I love stories like these. I went with Cristy and a friend whose husband is gallivanting around India. (love you, Brandon!) I think she liked it too. .

It's a love story. It's tragic, as are most. She has to give up the love of her life to do the right thing. And it was the right thing. Then she began to write novels that shook the feminists around the globe and never, ever is there an unhappy ending in the stories that surround her.

Is it odd to say that I'm certain I wore dresses like that in my last life? & that I danced in circles with my sisters and friends? I know, it is. But I swear I had loosely tied up hair and big bustled dresses. It sounds like torture but I bet I loved it. :) But that's another story.

Life is full of stories like this - people that try so hard to take chances and risks but bravery and reality escape them. They lose. I have been that girl. I am ashamed to say that bravery has escaped me before in my life. But I also like to think that I've learned to hang on to what I love. I hope I've learned enough to not make the same mistakes. Jane Aust*n lived her life without love - well it was outside, not in. I left the theater wanting to read Pride & Prejudice again and again, knowing she wrote it during the fullest time of her life.

I think I might.

Sandy, Scooters, Sushi...

Another mom added to the list of so many of us on Friday. Her name is Jacqui and while I don't know her whole story, I'm glad she's here. - you are among friends.

The weekend was healing. Thanks for sticking it out with me. Every time I logged on to write, I ended up soaking in all of your words instead. It's amazing what a difference it can make for me. I hope you all feel the same.

Friday night was full of rest for us. I had a blueberry cocktail with J that afternoon that kind of set the scene for a relaxing evening. Cristy cooked a wonderful meal and allowed me to make her suffer through two movies. Both with Sandra Bullock and I didn't even do that on purpose. The next morning we woke up early and went to the Farmers Market. We were on our scooters for most of the day - it was lovely.

That night we had sushi with friends and planned to "swing by" the girl bar to say hi to a few friends. We ended up running into more friends and didn't get home until almost 3am! Mind you, we are girls who never "swing by" girl bars. There are only a couple anyway and neither are worth the "swing" but when you mix drinks with old friends and new friends...you just never know what will happen. It was so fun! At one point I asked E what time it was - thinking it was 11 or so - it was almost 1am. & we were just getting started! & to all of you who sang your hearts out...man I wish I had it in me! Thanks for the entertainment! Who knew you all had it in you? Besides Cristy, of course. She's a natural! :)

Last night we had dinner with my attorney (now very close friend) and her family. She reminds me how hard we tried but also about how much we lost. We also found out that there's yet another case looming in the distance and I just cringe when I think about what she's going through and what she has ahead of her.

Life is strange. & so uncertain. & what you know might really not be. I feel like I'm turning a corner and I'm finally starting to feel the anger that I've desperately needed. I've been too afraid to be mad because for so long I had to maintain a relationship with the mother of her. If I got mad at her she'd just pull Gracie farther away. I guess I have the freedom to really hate her if I want to. And that just makes me sad.

Damnit. Maybe I need to spend more time at the bar.

Come Take a Walk With Me...

If you haven't heard Pink's "Dear Mr President" with the Indigo Girls - take a look at this. They're not actually IN the video so don't comment and say I teased you or anything. :) But it's worth it. Check it out.

All my favorite girls with guitars...

& if you haven't registered to vote, please do.

June 29th - Twenty years ago.

Of all sad things of tongue and pen, the saddest are these, "it might have been".

And yet, another Anniversary.

Twenty years ago today, I lost my little brother. He was bright and beautiful - an identical twin to my other amazing brother. We grew up very close. We all shared the same friends - about twenty of us grew up in the same small neighborhood and there was no one spared from the story of that day.

I know many people have experienced the loss of a family member. But I tell and re-tell this story to put a face to such a senseless tragedy. My hope is that you'll spread it around in a "i know a boy who.." kind of way.

This is my memory of June 29, 1987.

Twenty years ago I was sixteen. I think back and I was such a grown up - even then. That morning I was getting ready to go swimming at a local Crazy Wave place. I'm not sure if you know but in 1987, even if you're about to swim all day, you still put on a full face of make up and curl your hair. He came in the bathroom and looked at me through the mirror and asked if he could come with me. I wanted to bring him/them. But there are two of them, twins, & that meant two tickets and I only had enough money for one. He turned away - sad that I said no. I'll never forget it. Ever.

My next memory of that day was coming home. My mom had picked me up and I made her drive around the long way so I could see if my boyfriend was outside. Waste. We came up the hill and saw what seemed like hundreds of Emergency Vehicles. Fire trucks, Ambulances, Cop cars and even a hovering helicopter. I said to my mom, "I wonder if *old neighbor man* died." She nodded. But as we got closer we could see that all the people were surrounding OUR house. All of our neighborhood was just standing and staring at OUR front door. I was terrified.

My mom threw the car into Park so hard and fast that we flew forward. She jumped out. I saw her running and I became so afraid for her. The panic in her made me fear for her safety - not even thinking my little brothers were in THAT house. I mean, the house is what everyone is staring at! There must be something awful in there. I prayed that she wouldn't go in and I got to her just in time. But I didn't save her from what she would see. We ran up as they were wheeling my brother out on a stretcher. He looked sick. Very sick. And worse, the people around him looked petrified/hollow - like they had been through a hell they'd never seen before.

My mom, with her maternal instinct, knew something was really bad. She stayed with him and left in an ambulance. I was whisked away - into the house to come to my own conclusion and to find my other brother. ...'I saw his face and he had no color. He must have had an asthma attack. I mean, he always does. We can't do any activity for very long before he has blue lips and is wheezing like crazy. That must be it!'... So I went on my way, cleaning up the mess they made in the house. Wrappers - everywhere. Weird ones - not for band aids but for long tube things that looked scary and important. But still, I was certain it was an asthma attack.

I heard a noise and ran to the window. I saw my dad pull up on the lawn. ...'he's on our lawn. He's in a big hurry!'... I went to run outside but by the time I got to the front door, my other brother had jumped in his truck and they were driving away.

I was left alone.

I went back inside and took messages from the many people that kept calling. I got tired of cleaning and taking messages so I went outside to see our friends. They were all still standing out there, staring at our house. I grabbed the basketball and asked who wanted to play Horse. I remember very clearly how they all just stared. This was my first experience with people tip toeing around me. Still, I didn't get it. We started playing Horse and no one said a single word.

But it wasn't long until the neighbors came out to get me. They said my grandmother had called them, trying to find me. They said I was supposed to go with them until my parents picked me up. I asked, "does she know Paul is sick? did she say how he was?" Their answer will be in my memory forever. "Yes honey, he didn't make it."

What? "didn't make it" - what does that mean? Didn't Make WHAT? The football team? Lunch on time? How could this be? I hadn't even begun to think it was serious - let alone, possibly fatal. And that was it. The first day of a new life for us.

I have struggled a lot with all the "what if's" from that day. What if I had taken him with me? What if I would've stayed home? What if my mom didn't have to pick me up before going home? What if I wouldn't have made her drive by my boyfriends house when every second counted? What if I would've jumped in the ambulance or made it in time to leave with my dad and had those last few minutes with him? What if - a million times.

But I realized, after many years, that none of those things would bring him back and none of it's my fault. My brother's were playing the pass out game. All the kids were doing it back then - where you hold your breath upside down and you get that sort of "rush" that makes for a great story at school on Monday. Only my one brother decided to do while he was alone, thinking he'd pull a scary trick on my other brother. Scary all right. Unforgettable.

My family has spent many hours over the last two decades educating other families and school children about the danger of this game. We traveled around to schools, churches and news programs. Every year, I try to do just one more thing to tell one more person what a tragedy this has brought to our lives. My own Party of Five is now a party of four. My twin brother is now twin-less. & my parents will never be whole again.

This year, this is my "one more thing" and "one more person". My brother was only 14 when he died. But he lived a big life and that's the part we still remember and tell and re-tell to the nieces and nephews/wives and partners he didn't get to meet. We miss him so much that even they miss him.

Happy sleeping brother.
Twenty years later and I still say, "see you soon".

Seven Year Old Lesson

I picked up Yegs from school yesterday. He was crying. Someone had said something bad about him that hurt his feelings. It wasn't true. But some of the kids believed it and that left him terribly upset. We spent hours talking about this. Hours. He couldn't understand why this girl had said what she did and all we could say to him was - sometimes you just can't understand why people do the things they do.

As we were driving, I decided to take my own advice.

First, I forget there are a few Utah readers now and that some of you may know the person I've been speaking out. That bothers me to some extent because my intent is not to talk badly about her - just to vent and try to gain understanding that some of you might be able to share.

Secondly, the point is I'm never going to understand why she did what she did. It doesn't matter why she named the dog the name she chose. Whether she did it to personally hurt me or if she just didn't think about it - it hurts me the same. I'm not going to understand it. And she doesn't owe it to me to give me a reason.

Lastly, I have to know this person my whole life. She is the other mother of my stepson. She is 2nd in the long line of mothers to him. & she's a great mom. That's what should matter most. Always. Her obligation is to him, not me.

I'm finished talking about this. My hope is that it will just go away.
Thanks for all your thoughts - reminding me that I'm not totally crazy. :)