Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Flood our Hearts.

It's been a strange and surreal week. Christmas came and went and truthfully, because Sam and I set some boundaries with how we needed the day to go, we got through it relatively unscathed. Christmas Eve was hard as going to a church service where you hear/sing and think on the birth of our Savior. The birth of Jesus. Although in the midst of my crocodile tears, I had a huge realization that this same baby is the One that saves me each day from my darkest moments. (sidenote: I know not all who read this blog come from that Faith, and I am so willing to sit and discuss our differences in a manner that would benefit both of us to grow and learn where we each come from. What is NOT helpful is any kind of an email letting me know you don't agree blah, blah, blah....this is OUR journey and the Hope that Sam and I share. So please respect that.) ok...where was I? oh yes, what I have seen over time is that my heart can only be pierced by 2 things. Beauty and affliction. I swing back and forth between those 2 right now. I can't pin point where I am from moment to moment, it's a pendulum. I read in Ecclesiastes this week...."He makes all things beautiful in His time." I often sit and wonder what that timing will be for us and what exactly that means. I am questioning a lot these days. That's a huge part of this and I am ok with the questions. Many go unanswered though and again, only time will and can heal that.

In two months of this journey what I can tell you is I/we have seen growth. And on some days, it is very small, but as long as I move forward and not backward that is all I can work for right now. On a recent trip to Orlando I got to sit up and talk with my wonderful sister, Andrea, to the late hours of the night. She recently sent me an email that said this, "What I do know is that you are a master at teaching us all that life is not only to be lived, but LIVED and experienced, for and THROUGH the good and the bad." (me and my girl Andi in the pic to the right)
When I read it, I had to stop. Was that really what I was doing? If so, I will take it. As my soul takes on this pain, my heart's capacity also grows and expands...crazy, I am making room for more love? To want is to suffer; the word passion means to suffer. And so I am trying to fight my human reluctance and simply listen to my heart. I know that dullness will keep me from the pain of life and what I want out of this is more love and more passion. So bring it. Let it flood my heart. Our hearts.

Part of this journey is how Sam and I choose to remember Juliette. Last Friday we went and got the tattoos above. It was something we had talked about long before we knew Juliette's heart had stopped. I had always wanted some fancy body art, (if you don't have a tattoo, you aren't really "from" Austin) but didn't know what I would want placed on me forever. When this happened, it was clear. This is forever. As hard as is it for me to say. Forever Juliette's mother even though she was gone before her first real breath. Forever.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Just Show Up

“Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don't give up.” Anne Lamott

Today I was reading some Anne Lamont (she's one of my favorites. Her writings are real and her struggle with faith is something I can relate to) , Traveling Mercies and came up on this quote. I stopped and thought how appropriate for now. Right now, I do feel like we are in the dark. Hitting the one month mark this past Saturday was painful. Going through the holidays and seeing the last of the nursery being disassembled...gut wrenching. Remembering that this Christmas we were supposed to be anticipating the birth of our first child and trying to figure out how in my heck will my Presbyterian roots celebrate and reflect on the birth of Jesus. It ain't going to be easy. at all.

Then I read this quote and I think about the last week and some huge steps that I took in returning to life. I showed up to counseling for the second time. Even though I didn't want to, but I showed up. I decided I wanted to get back to my CrossFit gym even though I am aware that this 'baby weight' comes with the painful recognition that there is no baby. And so, I showed up on Friday and Saturday....and again today. I have gotten back out there with running and even though I am slower than I want to be and my hips are still adjusting since delivery...I showed up and placed one foot in front of the other. **I realize these are all workout options but since this is where I also get a lot of my socializing, it was hard for me for the last month to think about returning. I wanted to have a different identity and just run away. Also, the working out seems to help me escape the world of anti-depressants. Again, not a shot down if anyone else has taken these. They are just not for me. Right now. And postpartum is hard and everyone wants to give you the drugs. I say hugs, not drugs. ok wow...I digress.

A good friend that I happen to work with at LIVESTRONG messaged me and told me on Sunday she was proud of me for simply showing up this past week. It helped to hear that from someone else without any prompting and although I am fighting to keep all my emotions at bay when I am out and about....I know that if I just show up, at some point yes, the dawn will come.

Thursday, December 15, 2011


“At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.” — Albert Schweitzer

Today. December 15. This marks one month of when we found out Juliette's heart had stopped. Also happens to fall on a Thursday. Thursday's have been hard. It's the day of the week we delivered her. Particularly between the hours of 9 and 10 am. And then again at 530 pm which is when we handed her back to our nurses and said the worst goodbye we have ever known. A few weeks ago I told myself I would force myself to show up for the hour of 9-10 am. Whether that be to sit outside and catch some sun on my face, to go for a walk or to write. I would not lay in my bed and wonder if Happy Hour could start that early, but get up and lean...really hard into this pain. I truly believe that the healing will come eventually when I let room for this to happen. And when I lean, I get to know my friend fear a whole lot better, not trying to solve anything, simply trying to discover what it is that God has for me in that moment.

The last few weeks I have been going to a yoga class on Thursdays, with my favorite teacher, Leeah Taylor. (I like to say her name Leeahhhhhhhhh, because that is how deep she encourages me to breathe when I step onto my mat.) Coincidence? She teaches a class from 9-10 am. I have found comfort in going to yoga in the last few weeks because it is a workout, its a way to sweat but NO interaction with people. I don't have to talk, I don't have to tell people about my tears rolling down my face, and there is no judgement in this workout. It's personal. It's very private.

For me today this hour was....dare I say it?.....beautiful. We set an intention at the beginning of class and for me it was simple. I wanted to just know love. I wanted to take in the last month and wanted to kick my own ass into being receptive. And I did just that. With every stretch, posture, downward dog I was discovering fear in an entire new place.

At the end of class I laid on my mat in savasana, or final resting pose. The tears came and they rolled down both sides of my face. I had this wash of emotion that was controllable but needed to come out. I thought through so many of you that have stepped in over the last 6 weeks for our family. I was overwhelmed with more tears and well....yes, gratitude. Per the quote above, my flame has temporarily gone out (and I am OK with that) So many of you have stepped in and let me know this will change me. Forever. In what way is still to be determined as we continue this journey and we ask God to flood our hearts. Again I am OK with this timeline, I feel no rush.

What I think is important that in the midst of deep grief and loss, for just a moment you can find gratitude. And since its Thursday.....it's gratiThursday for me.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Grief vs. Fear vs. Emptiness

"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear."
- C.S. Lewis

It's been awhile since I actually posted on my blog. I have been writing and journaling quite a bit but as I have approached a large amount of anger, it seemed appropriate to keep those posts to myself, for now. (and it's not because of what you might think of me, I could honestly care less. It's simply because this kind of anger needs to be private for now.)

I've been handed, sent and offered many things to read. And quite honestly...in my opinion, most of the garb out there on grief is (said in my best English dialect)...RUBBISH. At least for ME I have found it to be. The stages of grief seem to laughable for the most part right now. I seem to go through all of these said "stages" in the course of one to two hours during a day and then wake up the next day moving through it again. These books walk you through...what is normal. Well, maybe for that person that wrote the book, but for me and my journey right now, I'm not your normal. And if what these books list ARE indeed, "normal", well....why start now? I have never been that.

I think the toughest thing for me right now is the fact that I am not just in pain or suffering but have to keep on thinking about the fact that I am in pain/suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief. Do you follow?

And then there is fear. Fear of seeing people that may not know what has happened. Fear of stupid. (I could go on for this but I think you can know what I mean) Fear of decisions moving forward on trying again. Fear of going back to your workplace. Fear of encountering anything involving babies in public. It's all consuming at times. And fear mixed with grief then brings in words like postpartum and depression and anti-depressants......and then you have fear that you now have yet another label attached to you. It's not enough that you lost a baby prematurely, it's that now you have to say "I have postpartum"

And then finally I feel a tremendous amount of emptiness. I had a counselor ask me..."where are you right now?" And I replied with "Well, I still feel like I am in my wheelchair at the hospital doors, leaving. I am sitting with a box of created memories from 8 hours with Juliette. I am sitting there with my empty arms, yet it feels like I have a 40 pounds pressing down on them. I am sitting next to a woman in a wheelchair holding a beautiful baby boy. And I am sad. I am envious. I am afraid I will never be in her shoes. 2 woman, 2 different endings to their day of delivery. For me, that is where I am." My counselor was taken back by me responding in the physical sense rather than the emotional sense. But I know with the picture I gave her of where I was, she understood where I was emotionally. I was stuck in that place. In the hospital.

In the book Emma, by Charlotte Bronte she writes, "There is, I am convinced, no picture that conveys, in all its dreadfulness, a vision of sorrow, despairing, remediless supreme. If I could paint a picture, the canvas would show only a woman looking down at her empty arms."

This is where the last 4 weeks have taken me in this journey called grief that I don't believe has any "normal" journey. I have more to say, which will come next with a trip that Sammy and I were able to take this past weekend.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011


It's a strange word and in the last few weeks it's been thrown around. A lot. I looked it up to see what good ole' Webster has to say about it. Here it is: "an often comforting or satisfying sense of finality." Huh. Comforting? Nope. Satisfying sense of Finality? Hell no. Yep, that is not how I feel at all. And yes, I know it's all final and I can't change the outcome of this for us, but I hold onto those few hours we had with Juliette and I can't find this thing called CLOSURE.

Closure is the word I would often use when a stupid boy would break my heart and i wouldn't have a reason. I would sob..."if he would just tell me WHY, I would have closure." (am I right ladies? this is where you use the word closure)

Not here. No closure. Even getting to hold Juliette didn't provide closure for me, for us. It made me realize what that first hold means to a mother, it made me want that to last just a few more days and then I would say goodbye. How long could I get them to keep me in this hospital?

And then you go home. And then things happen that are supposed to be part of being a mother, yet there is no child there to see that through or experience that with. And you look at your husband and you can't explain how and why you feel so shitty. I mean he knows why, but you find yourself wanting to show him how strong you can be even though it is completely exhausting. And you want to just have a constant pity party for yourself. And you get visitors and you throw on the "I'm alright face" and then crumble the minute they leave the house. Then comes the follow up Dr. appt to see if you are "okay". And you finally tell someone the truth. You aren't and it hurts and you feel bad when you smile and laugh because you aren't supposed to do that right now, right?

Here is what I know right now. You don't get closure from this. I don't think that is possible. I know at some point this will fade and the pain on some days will be less. But you don't get closure or any satisfying sense of finality. Especially not when this pregnancy was a miracle in the first place. Why would God allow this to be taken away when it was such a gift for us? Why? And how would anyone expect any closure to come from that? I realized today I don't expect this thing called....closure.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011


One week ago today I was admitted into the hospital already knowing the outcome for our delivery. Her heart had stopped and you will have to say goodbye to something that you and your husband wanted so badly. One week later, as my body physically heals, the emotional pain seems to be more intense and I find myself staring at walls and waiting for the end of each day. I find a physical ache in my body that is hard to describe unless you have been through loss.

Today I don't want to be known as courageous, strong, brave or honest. Not for this anyway.
Today I don't want to give thanks in all things. How could I possibly?
Today I don't want to feel one more minute of the physical affects from labor.
Today I don't want one more person to tell me she is my angel. It doesn't make it better.
Today I don't want one more person to ask when we will try again.

Today what I want is to have her back. I want my hope to replace this intense fear.

I miss the joy of being pregnant and anticipating new life. I miss her.

Friday, November 18, 2011

Dear Juliette Phoebe Ann

Yes, that is your sweet name, Juliette. I always wanted a little girl named Juliette and we didn't tell ANYONE your name because I wanted to be the first to call you by that name when I got to meet you. Only it was a meeting that began broken hearted. I had you for 23 weeks and this pain in my heart is paralyzing. I can't imagine mother's that may get a few weeks, months or even years with their children and then lose them, and I am watching now and clinging to their strength because I don't seem to have it on my own. The last 2 days with you Juliette will forever be on my heart. A tough memory as I knew shortly after hello would be goodbye. It all happened so fast. Over the last 23 weeks, I was a Mom. People tell me I still am and I fight and struggle with that. And then comes my anger. I would trade anger for understanding. What I "want" for what is "real." All I know Juliette, is I wouldn't change any of our path even if the doctor's told me at 8 weeks in this could happen, I would allow life to work itself out and ask God for a miracle. That wasn't in this for us. You fought 3 weeks longer than what the Dr. anticipated, and to have that time to say goodbye as your heart slowed down was more precious to me that what most would understand. I am sad I never got to see your first smile, or hear your first cry. When I saw your fingers and how long they were at just 23 weeks, I was sad that I would never sit at a piano and teach you how to play your first scale or song. It was a deafening silence in our room when you delivered. But I am glad for the time you and I got together when Daddy went to go get food. I got my wish to sing to you for awhile and to tell you there were some pretty amazing people you would meet in heaven. Other children that were gone too soon that would meet you. And of course, Grandma and Grandpa Wilson. They will spoil you as only I wanted to.

Juliette, in just 23 weeks you changed my life. (our lives) You reminded me in a profound way how precious life is. You taught me that tears are ok at all times, because those tears drip with more love than you know. I have seen love to be like a fabric that never fades, no matter how often it is washed in the waters of adversity and grief. My memory of this week may eventually fade but my love will be here, ever strong for you. You taught me that love from a mother/father is so very real. If we could have done anything for your heart condition, we would have. When we saw your little body yesterday, it was so real to us that you had suffered and so although saying goodbye was very difficult, your body is perfect and whole now. No more pain. I can write that but have a long way to go until my selfishness sees that as "better".

The one thing I promised to you Juliette is that I would remember to be kind to myself during this process and that this healing is a journey. And for me, I feel a long journey because I wanted to be your Mom so badly.

We love you so very much. Thank you for the blanket and sweater that I have to remember you by when I held you on November 17th, 2011.

Writing and talking to you helps me right now. We love you so very much.

Mommy and Daddy

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

A day we will not easily forget....

Today we had another appointment at 845 am to listen for heart tones. Our baby girl's heart has stopped, as the Dr. had anticipated would happen very soon. It has been 3 weeks since we got the first news around our girl being in danger. Tomorrow I will go into the hospital at 5 am, we will start medication to begin delivery. My Dr. says if all goes ok, all should be completed by early evening.

What we need.

Prayers. Love. Thoughts. Keep them coming.

More specifically around the delivery tomorrow. That there are no complications and I can not be left with any further physical pain. Pray for this very difficult goodbye. I was told today I would be able to hold her if i wanted that, and I do.

We love you all. Colleen & Sammy

Monday, November 14, 2011

This is how I feel

"I am exhausted and completely crushed.
My groans come from an anguished heart.
You know what I long for, Lord;
you hear my every sigh."
Psalm 38:8-9

This expresses how I feel right now. I am exhausted because I can't sleep. I am crushed because there is nothing I can do to fix this. My tears come from a place that I have never thought possible. My heart is heavy because I don't want to say goodbye. Not yet. Still praying for a miracle for your heart Baby L.

We love you.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Emily Dickinson- grief

Emily, you said it best in this poem.

I measure every Grief I meet
With narrow, probing, eyes –
I wonder if It weighs like Mine –
Or has an Easier size.

I wonder if They bore it long –
Or did it just begin –
I could not tell the Date of Mine –
It feels so old a pain –

I wonder if it hurts to live –
And if They have to try –
And whether – could They choose between –
It would not be – to die –

I note that Some – gone patient long –
At length, renew their smile –
An imitation of a Light
That has so little Oil –

I wonder if when Years have piled –
Some Thousands – on the Harm –
That hurt them early – such a lapse
Could give them any Balm –

Or would they go on aching still
Through Centuries of Nerve –
Enlightened to a larger Pain –
In Contrast with the Love –

The Grieved – are many – I am told –
There is the various Cause –
Death – is but one – and comes but once –
And only nails the eyes –

There's Grief of Want – and grief of Cold –
A sort they call "Despair" –
There's Banishment from native Eyes –
In sight of Native Air –

And though I may not guess the kind –
Correctly – yet to me
A piercing Comfort it affords
In passing Calvary –

To note the fashions – of the Cross –
And how they're mostly worn –
Still fascinated to presume
That Some – are like my own –

Dear Baby L

It's 3 am and I am awake again. I woke up in tears wondering if you know how much we love you. I also want you to know how much your Daddy wanted a girl. Early in our pregnancy I asked him if we wanted a boy or a girl. He said, "I honestly don't care, I want healthy, but I think it would be fun to have 2 of you around. So a girl would be fun." Now in my head, I thought...are you kidding? 2 super strong willed, sensitive and emotional ladies under one roof? You think that would be "fun"?! You want another competitive soul around, someone that thinks movie musicals make the best Friday night dates? Really? Do you know what you are signing up for if this is a girl?! He reminded me those are all reasons why he loves me and would welcome that.

When we found out you are a girl, our hearts melted. You should know I got lucky when God put your Daddy in my life. He is pretty great. I didn't understand "a perfect match" until I met him, but he is that. He has cried for you like I have and he hates it that he can't protect and fix this right now. Your heart is slowing down and he can do nothing.

We love you Baby L, we love you.

Mommy & Daddy

Dear Baby L

It's 2 am which seems to be a normal wake up time for me currently. My insomnia is off the charts and I struggle all the time with wanting to have conversations with our little girl inside of me. We found out the news at 19 weeks pregnant, she has made it to week 22, our Dr. was shocked the other day that her heart was still beating. I came home and had a small smile in my heart thinking, could she already know the woman that are before her and how she is already a fighter that would live up to blood in her. Writing has always been therapeutic for me. So when my tears wake me up, here is what I would tell her.

Dear Baby Girl L,

Your middle name would be after 2 woman that affected my life. You would have 2 middle names, Phoebe Ann. This was decided before Sam and I even knew we were expecting. As we discussed first names, the middle name was set. Phoebe is the name of your great-grandmother. She will greet you in heaven, please tell her I said hello and I that I miss her. She was barely 5 ft tall, but was a ball of fire and loved life. She didn't have over a middle school education but was one of the smartest women I know. Her laughter was infectious and I have such great memories of sitting next to her in church during summer visits and can still hear her voice sing out a hymn. She loved unconditionally and fearlessly. I wanted you to have a piece of her name. The other name Ann, is my Mom's, your grandmother's middle name. My mom also a fighter. Had a very difficult childhood and even in that never gave up on life and love. She gave me my love of music, and the arts. She is why I LOVE the Sound of Music and thought I was Maria. She also instilled a high level of competitiveness inside of me, and that transferred over into my love of sports. Both of these women also lived out an extreme life of Faith in front of me. This is the most important thing they gave me especially right now when I think of how this could turn out for your Dad and I. I have Faith that all things work for good little one. we love you.


Thursday, November 10

Sammy and I went back to our perinatal specialist for another ultra sound and check up. The fluid sacs have gotten significantly larger and the heart is slowly beating. We were told at this point, it is just a matter of time for the heart to stop and then I will be moved to delivery. There is nothing we can do. There is extreme adema and swelling for our little girl, she is in danger, and it is not something they can reverse.

We will go back next Tuesday for them to listen for a heartbeat and then every 2-3 days after that until we can't hear it any more. I will not know or be in any physical pain when her heart stops.

Today is a sad day for Sammy and I. The pain I feel in my body is nothing I have ever experienced before because its an emotional pain, not a physical pain. To try and wrap my head around going through a delivery and not bringing our sweet girl home is truly unsettling right now.

Wednesday, November 2

Wednesday, November 2

I received a phone call around 430 pm that the results were in and they were not good. It was then explained to me on the phone that our baby has Turner’s Syndrome. Something that happens at conception and is nothing we could have prevented. 1 in 2500 babies manifests itself in this way, and all the cases are girls. Basically every cell in our girl’s body is missing one sex chromosome and diagnosed this early, have an extremely low chance of carrying to full term and this is mainly because she is experiencing extreme heart failure. They usually see the baby miscarry in the second trimester which for us goes all the way to mid December. For those that do carry to full term, there are many complications that come from that as well, but at this time we are not focusing on that.

We basically have 2 options or 1 really, depending on how you look at it.

1. Terminate the pregnancy now because of the knowledge we have. This is not an option and I can’t tell you how I feel so good that God gave me a mate with the same conviction. No discussion, we instantly bypassed this “option”
2. We wait it out. I am monitored more closely, every 1 to 2 weeks. When/If the baby’s heart stops, we will be schedule to induction and delivery.

Tuesday, October 25

Sammy and I go for a routine check up which included our first anatomy scan of Baby Legge. (this is week 19 for us) My doctor walked into our room shortly after and let us know that they are seeing a few things that would cause for high concern and we needed to head over to a specialist right then. We then drove down the road to a perinatal specialist for another sonogram and a deeper look into what was going on. The Dr. informed us that our baby has 2 large lymphatic fluid filled sacs that are on both sides of the neck. (he showed them on the sonogram, they are so large that you cannot see a clear picture of the head, eyes, ears) He then also showed us a closer look at the heart and explained that the 4 chambers in the heart were not forming properly and not working correctly. Along with that, arms and legs were not growing as they needed to be. We then were moved into a room with a woman named Allison, a genetic counselor. She is amazing and I feel like God was looking out for us by placing us with her. She explained in simpler terms that our baby was in danger based on what they could see, and is showing signs of heart failure, but there were a few things it could be and they thought it would be good to do further testing.

We then chose to get a test of my Amnio fluid so they could better diagnosis what is happening. They made it clear it wasn’t to change anything that was currently happening, but for information down the road should we choose to try and conceive again. It would take 7-10 days to get that test back.

Now. We wait.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Just a quote....

"The beauty of life is, while we cannot undo what is done, we can see it, understand it, learn from it and change. So that every moment is spent not in regret, guilt, fear or anger, but in wisdom, understanding, and love."
-Jennifer Edwards

Love this. Now if only I could live it.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Closing from Northland last week

When I travel (which happens to be a lot these days) I often will watch Northland's service online. This was my church when I lived in Orlando. Last weekend's service has been in my mind for the last week...the closing was so good.

One good man,--one man who does not put his religion on once a week with his Sunday coat, but wears it for his working dress, and lets the thought of God grow into him, and through and through him, till everything he says and does becomes religious, that man is worth a thousand sermons--he is a living Gospel... And men see his good works...and realize God's grace is no dream, but that the Holy Spirit is still among men...and they get a glimpse of God again in His saints and heroes, and glorify their Father who is in heaven. ... Charles Kingsley, Twenty-five Village

It has simply made me think a lot this past week about myself and where my faith is right now.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

My precious girl Kat

I am in LA and with a trip to LA means I get to spend time with my precious friend Kat. It's great. We aren't the best about keeping in touch via phone, as we aren't really phone people but when we plan trips to see eachother, it's awesome. We met at Disney. She was a dancer at Tarzan and me...a singer. And what is crazy is we actually became better friends once we left that world. Having kept in touch for the last ten years as life has taken us both through a few moves, her from NYC to LA and me from Orlando to Austin...I can easily say that we cherish the moments where we get to talk about our failures.

Wait? What? Our failures? yes, that is right...our failures. It's no doubt that Kat and I have had some good successes in life and trust me, we celebrate that with one another, but what I love is how we each accept the $hit. The last 3 days have been talking about how hard things are and how sometimes we just want to give up when it comes to life, relationships, work...etc, and there is this great thing about us that nothing is off the table. We don't judge what the struggle is. ever. We share, listen, sometimes cry and then point each other back to our faith and where we come from. We make it a point not to fix things for one another but simply to accept where each of us is on this crazy journey.

I am out in LA for work, but what is nice is that when work is done for the day, for one week I get to sit with my sweet friend and move through some pain.

I have much gratitude for this week. Love you Kat. (and Eric! **this is Kat's boyfriend and he will get mad if I don't mention him once in this post)

Friday, March 11, 2011

I get by with a little help....

from my friends...those Beatles sure knew what they were talking about. By the way, I still have dreams of an all chick Beatles cover band...whose in? Ok, I digress. This week certainly had its high five moments, many of which came from totally unexpected places.

I had 2 friends get in touch with me that I had not spoken to in a long time. And both were able to just be there...I didn't need there advice and didn't need them to tell me "it's gonna be ok". I just needed them to hang with me...and they did. you know who you are and I am thankful for the reconnection this week.

I also had a really amazing week in both my yoga practice and CrossFit. I have been consistent with my yoga practice for 7 months now, getting in atleast 3 times per week. I love yoga. It centers me, it's great prayer and meditation time and also a wonderful workout. I joined CrossFit Austin a few months ago to see if I could really take my strength to a new level. I got the endurance side of the house but noticed I am weak in strength..well, this week I proved myself wrong in many cases having multiple PRs in the gym with how much weight I am able to lift and then a little work out called "Fight Gone Bad", (I know. I know. this sounds like it was meant for me)I won't go into the details of this workout, but I had a huge personal PR and I left class on adrenaline high, and it carried me through my Friday.

This weekend I will relax a bit and try to get some good reading in. Sounds like a perfect date for me and Mr. Kindle. Looks like Austin weather will cooperate and I can be outside for a good portion of it.

If you see me, I could still use a hug. One day at a time.

What would you think if I sang out of tune,
Would you stand up and walk out on me.
Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song,
And I'll try not to sing out of key.
Oh I get by with a little help from my friends,
Mmm,I get high with a little help from my friends,
Mmm, I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

is the sun ever gonna break?

Ray LaMontagne said it best in his song, Are we really through?....

Is that sun ever gonna break
Break on through the clouds
Shine down in all its glory onto me?
Head upon the ground
‘Cause I can’t hear the sound
‘Cept my own sad story

Get so tired
Starin’ at the wall
Weight’s so heavy
And that mountain’s so tall

Is there no one who would catch me if I fall?
Is there no one who would catch me if I fall?

Because it’s more
More than I can take
Wish that I could fake it
Pretend like I don’t know what’s going on

Something’s wrong
Something’s wrong
Trying to hold on
Just a little longer

Here's the thing. Right now=not an easy time and because I assimilate everything with music, songs sometimes help me move through the pain. I heard this song today and simply love my iPod shuffle for throwing me this. Right now is more than I can take. For the last few months I have tried to fake it. I have put a smile on my face like I do and not stepped in the the light and said...OK, now I could use some help. But here I am blogging about it.

I've most certainly stepped away from what I know to be my deep rooted faith and belief that God can and will heal what is going on right now. Ok. There. i said it. whew. How many readers will i lose to that? I can't go into details of the source and why I am hurting so bad, it simply wouldn't be fair. But if you happen to run into me and you happen to see me fakin' in...kindly step towards me and just give me a hug. I probably need it, actually i do need it.

The great thing is in the midst of all this pain, I am back at the piano as I wanted to be.

Sorry to be such a downer but I have to break free from this shell of fear, and move on.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

and now it's March 2

I must make time. I must make time. To write a new damn blog. The thing is....it's not right now. I did go on a small road trip today...2.5 hours to listen to my own music...if you don't own these albums, you should.

1.Diane Birch- Bible Belt (seriously. it's good)
2.Adele- 21 (this one doesn't need a reason)
3.Arcade Fire- The Suburbs (yes, all you haters from the Grammys, they are rock your face off amazing)
4.Sugarland, The Incredible Machine (I just want to 2 step the whole time)
5.The Last Five Years- broadway show, Jason Robert Brown. (the melodies, the lyrics, I will never let go of this album and in my car I can sing as loud as I want to)

Someday I will get back to singing on a more regular basis. Truth be told, I miss it a lot these days and I don't make time for it like I used to. There were some days I would come home from work and sit at the piano for up to 2 hours singing and practicing...i can't tell you the last time I did that. So I made a goal. For those of you in Austin. A night of song from yours truly is coming your way in June...and trust me, this will be a glorious time!

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

My triumphant return

I think its time to return. I mean...all 26 of those that may read this, miss me. Right? I have had a lot happen in the last year...married, travels, injury, work changes....I am going to update for sure...in a few days!