I Cried, for the First Time

No, not just now. Nor recently. More like over a year ago.

In the previous post I mentioned that I would be writing post ideas that have been swimming in my head for a while. No, I have not been dwelling on the crying continuously for a year. Actually, it is something I have only recently remembered and realized.

As long term readers will recall, the first and last time, I cried was a day or so after the first abortion. The following excerpt is from "Damn! That Hurt!";

...The only thing I clearly remember after that was going to a Wal-Mart with my mother.  We were in line waiting to purchase our items.  Behind us was a couple about my age.  They had a baby in a stroller with them.  The baby was crying.  Basic fussing, like babies do, not causing too much of a scene.  I was about ready to burst into tears.  I asked my mother for the car keys to wait in the car.I bolted out of that store so fast.  The moment I got in the car I bawled like never before.  Tears streaming down my face and hyperventilating in my breathing.  My mother got in the car.  Asked me what was wrong.  Really?  She couldn't put the two together?  I said something to the effect of "I killed my baby" or "I will never see my baby" or both of those things.  Her response?  Oh, that's all. I thought maybe the baby was annoying you and something about I did the right thing, it was no big deal, I would get over it, etc.  Then and there I decided that the only thing to do was to be numb about the situation.

If you are new to reading this blog I would recommend that you read "The First Abortion," to be able to start at the beginning of my story.

Back to the subject at hand. I had not cried since then. I suppose it would be rather difficult to cry over something I did not remember. But even after the memories surfaced I still had that inner child crying within me. Eh, she was probably there the entire time, since the first abortion. I just refused to acknowledge her. I didn't even know why she was there. Though deep in my soul, I knew she was there.
There were times I felt like crying. But could never really bring myself to cry. Sure, there were times when I would get sniffly, maybe even a tear or two fall down my cheeks.
During the different grief sessions at the Rachel's Vineyard Retreat the other attendees did cry, when telling their stories or listening to others' stories. But I was just stoic when speaking and listening. No one judged me for not crying, nor did I judge others for crying. There may have been a moment of self judging myself for not crying. "What's wrong with you, do you have no feeling?"
It was when I was going through a particular rough patch at the beginning of last year, 2017, when I did finally cry. I had been switching between bouts of anger (angry at who or what I do not know) and extreme sadness. One night, late at night, in late January or early February I went on a video binge on YouTube. Searching for all the saddest and most painful songs I could find.

It was then I finally let the tears fall in a sweet sweet release! Everything, the pent up feelings for the past twenty-two years finally came bursting out. Every ounce of moisture being released from my eyes. Face completely wet. Puffy eyes. All of it. Was this the first time crying ever within those years that I had cried? That heavy? I am not sure. I probably had cried, a time or two, over something unrelated. But I really don't recall crying like that.

I never really felt the need to talk of it. I never thought there was any significance in it. But I truly believe this was a major pivotal point in my healing. Probably not a first step, but definitely a huge step, even leap, in my journey to getting up and dusting off.

The Crying Child Within

There's a perpetual child within me. She cries. Not all the time. But she's crying now. Why is there a child in me? Why is she crying? I want to let her out. Yet, I want to keep her within me.

It's been three years since my breakdown of January 2014. I am not sure where to start. As the breadown did not just happen at once out of the blue. But rather gradually, until it just blew.

While I do try to avoid mentioning identifiers about myself. I think I need to mention that I used to do seamstress work from out of my home. I think that may be a good place to start.

I had left my full time job to do sewing and alterations work from home. I had been doing that during my off time from work. Business had been picking up, before quitting the regular job. There were a few lulls and pick ups.
Sometimes the lulls would be quite long. Being short on money and not knowing where my next meal was coming from could cause little breakdowns themselves. When I had the good pick ups and would be paid well it would be a balancing act between purchasing quality supplies for future projects and food.

My specialty was alterations on bridal and formal. Though I did work on most any type of sewing; from lightweight simple repairs to heavy-duty heavyweight fabrics.
The formal work was the best. I thoroughly enjoyed working with the clients, their friends and mothers.

Yet, I think the connections with the clients may have been the lead in to my break down. Ever since the abortions, in certain ways, I was perpetually young. On a subconscious way I didn't see myself aging into someone old enough to have a teen child.
Yet it was while I would be having conversations with the mothers. We would talking about basic news, local issues, politics, music from when we were younger, how things were different when we were kids and teens. Then it hit me, I was older than I felt.

It still took a while to make the connection that not only was I old enough to have children who were teenagers. I was supposed to have teenage children! I can pinpoint the moment it dawned on me that I should have teenage girls. There I was standing at the kitchen sink. Washing dishes.
All of a sudden I found myself saying something to the effect of "my child is going to college." Where did that come from? Can't remember if I said it aloud, mumbled under my breath, moved my lips without vocalization, or just a strong thought. But there it was. Not only was I talking to myself, I was talking nonsense that wasn't even relevant to my life! Then I said, "my daughter is getting ready for prom." Still didn't click yet, in regards to my past.

This would have been about January of 2014. I ended up catching a cold or the flu. Or something. Decided to rest up on the sofa. Even after coming over the sickness, I still just couldn't do anything. If I got the snow shoveled, I was good for the day. Didn't even have the desire to do any sewing.
Fortunately I didn't have any customer projects that needed done. Oddly, before this time I would be all excited to take a call for a new project. Not anymore. When the phone would ring I would avoid answering and letting it go straight to voicemail. Figuring I would listen to the message later. Couldn't feel up to that. I did not want to deal with people.

There was this feeling I couldn't explain. I felt as though I were trapped within myself. I wanted to jump out of my body and run far away from myself. Yet, I wanted to hide farther within myself. I felt as though I was crying within myself. While no physical tears were released. It was as if there was a small child within me crying.

Then, it was while laying on the sofa, for some reason I decided to Google D&C abortions. Not sure what compelled me to do that. That, that, that is the moment EVERYTHING finally clicked! No, this was not a happy moment. Not at all. D&C was the type of procedure for the second abortion.
All the memories kept flooding back. It all came full circle. I remembered the abortions. It still did not feel like a memory of something that happened to me. More in the vein of being outside of myself. Remembering that it happened to a young twenty something woman I once knew.

I began to search for as much information about abortion as I could. Still can't say why. I knew I needed help and healing. But where to look? I knew about pro-life organizations that want to end abortion. Was using all kinds of search words. In my searching I did find a few sites for healing. Some were of words of encouragement. Some gave words of help to healing. There were even a few organizations that helped directly, such as Rachel's Vineyard. Some where one could write and/or call to talk with someone.
I was not ready to take that step. What would I say? How would I even begin?

This is not the end...

Multi-Gemstone Pro-Life Rosary Bracelet

At the risk of posting something that may "identify" me; this is a pro-life Rosary bracelet I had made soon after being home from the Rachel's Vineyard Retreat.  I like to make Rosaries; full size and bracelet size (one decade).  I had made another pro-life bracelet in pink pearl with a Mary Untier/Undoer of Knots image for the medal and baby themed charms, a few months ago. 
At the retreat I was given a few gifts from some of the retreat leaders.  Some of them were gifts of the same thing that were given to each attendee.  Some were individual gifts given to me.  Most of them were saint medals and charms for jewelry.  I am sure others were given "personalized" gifts. 
I am not sure, but I think the reason I was given so many medals is because I told someone at the retreat that I had wanted to bring my full Rosary that also had an Untier of Knots center, but left it at home.  And I also told them about the bracelet.  Since the place of the retreat was held at a Catholic retreat center there were many Christian images, such as Jesus (of course), Mary (of course), Joseph, well known saints, popes and such.  I had asked them if they knew if one of the images was the Undoer of Knots, somewhere.  Just to look at and bring some comfort.  Wouldn't you know it?!  That person also had a medal of the Untier of Knots!  They give it to me.  And said I could keep it.  Which was very nice.  I thought I would add it to my bracelet when I came home. 
Others at the retreat had heard about this.  Then they gave me some charms, at different breaks/after sessions during the retreat.  They had said that the priest who was there as the spiritual leader had blessed them.  So I am not sure if they asked him to bless them with me in mind or not.  So I decided I would add those to my bracelet also. 
During my stay at the local hotel in the town of the retreat, not having anything to do with the retreat, I felt lead to make a completely new bracelet inspired by the retreat.  The bracelet would be inspired by the wonderful persons I met.  Since there was ten of us, myself included, it was the perfect number for a full decade! Of course I won't tell how each person inspired me, but I will say that each different and individual bead was chosen by all the wonderful qualities of each attendee.  Please read below about the charms and choosing of the Crucifix, Our Father Bead, and main medal.

Each bead is a genuine gemstone.  Medals and charms given to me are Mary Untier of Knots, Our Lady of Fatima, tag that says "blessed," and St. Therese of the Little Flower.  The charms are foot prints, baby carriage, and a teddy bear holding a bouquet of flowers; that I already had. 

I had chosen the Pope Francis cross for the Crucifix, for the simple of humbleness of it.  As a reminder of Jesus being The Shepherd leading his flock who doesn't forget a one of us who stumbles and becomes lost.  I choose a large crimson colored bead as the Our Father bead, as a symbol of Jesus' blood shed on the cross; for all us sinners. The main medal is Mary of the Streets. Chosen for the humility and unpretentiousness.  According to this Wikipedia link the image was not originally intended as religious.  But so evoked the thought of Mary holding baby Jesus.

I only wear this bracelet at home.  I want to avoid anyone asking me about it.  I have no problem with anyone noticing the other one.  If someone were to ask about it, I could just say I made it because of my pro-life views, without mentioning my having had the abortions.  This one it might would be more difficult to avoid that in the explanation.

Still Healing and Recovering

Warning: The following is a bit disjointed.  Firing out thoughts as they come.  No rhythm or concise order of anything.  

Been debating writing about this.  As was stated I attended a Rachel's Vineyard Retreat about 3 weekends ago.  Oddly it seems longer ago than that.  Yet, it seems more recent.  I have been doing that for the past year or so, since "*coming to terms" with the abortions.

*Really, can one truly come to terms with an abortion?  I don't know.  I can't answer that.  No matter how much support one has from a confident(s), retreats, online groups, prayer, Bible reading, etc "automatic healing" will not take place.  All I can do is trust in Christ.  Yes, it's an uphill battle.  One that I must climb everyday and trust in God.  Look, I don't have all the answers.  I just know I am going to fall.  Heck sometimes even go snowball rolling down that hill.  I know when I do fall to get on my knees and pray.  Even before starting up the hill to get on my knees and prayer.  Regardless of my mood.  Do I always heed my own advice?  No!  But I must keep persevering.

Looks like I kind of went off track.  Let's get back to the subject.  So the reason, or one reason, I debated writing about this is that I was afraid of possibly coming off as saying that the retreat didn't help me.  It did.  Believe me. I don't want the following to be a discouragement to those who may be considering attending a retreat. Whether you are in the look-up stage or making plans to attend a specific retreat in your area or somewhere else; I want to tell you that despite any of your fears it really truly is a healing experience.  Or part of the healing experience.

Currently, I am writing from my "sick bed."  Not really like I have the flu or something.  Just tired.  Don't want to do anything right now.  Playing Christian/Gospel/Hymn music.  Reading from the Bible.  Praying the rosary.  May read a few verses from the Book of Psalms.  Checking out the Twitter feed.  Of course writing too.  Playing online games, just to release some stress. 
Although I am currently not at the point I was when I "discovered" that I had the abortions.  That time was horrible.  All I did was lay around, desiring to cry yet the tears would not flow, lay in a fetal position, wishing the world would go away.  I have made some progress in that time.

I have been somewhat lethargic since coming home from the retreat.  The leaders did state to take it easy when getting home and not be wonder-woman.  I did try to heed that advice.  But at the same time I felt like I had so much in my life and home that were neglected during my reflection time.  I thought I could come home and do all kinds of spring cleaning and DIY projects.  But I was also being careful not to overdo things.  I would wake up, drink my coffee, sit and stare, think about the things I needed to do.  I thought "the next cup of coffee will give me the energy to do things."  Nope.  After finishing a day of doing nothing,except for maybe the basics I would go to bed  feeling defeated and lazy. 
Finally, I have just collapsed.  I am laying on the couch propped up by a throw pillow and a bed pillow.  Doing nothing.  And that is fine!I don't know how long I will be on my sick bed.  And that is fine.  I am not going to schedule the time I will be on the sick bed.  And that is fine.  I am not going to schedule things I need to do.  And that is fine. 

There is a photo on the sidebar along with the same photo at the top of the blog that is of the prayer and meditation shrine in memorial of my girls, Anastasia and Hanelore.  I have it set up in my kitchen.  It is a nice spot to be able to remind me to look to God in all my sorrows and joys.  Have my devotions and prayer time there.  Feel as though I have my daughters near me during meal and prep times.  I am not at the point where I set a place and meals for them.  Yet, I think it is now time to take down the shrine and put the memory items in a safe and secure spot, to be able to look at when I need to. 
Although my hoarding issues seem to get in the way of that.  Don't know why but in some ways it feels as though I am getting rid of my daughters again.  Possibly as though I am "hiding them."  These are issues I need to work on.

Point is; there is no one true miracle that is going to all of a sudden make my emotions be all Maria from The Sound of Music dancing in a field of flowers.  And that too is fine!

Why do I write?

That, that I am not sure. Well, maybe I am.  I don't know.  Yesterday I finished up with the story of My Second Abortion.  It was the hardest thing ever for me to write.  Had it not been for the experience at the Rachel's Vineyard Retreat; I do not think I would have had the courage to write it.
Whenever I write out a post I share to my Twitter feed.  Now why do I do that?  Am I doing this because I want to be some "internet star"?  Ah, not really.  Of course I must admit that anyone online with their own websites and/or blogs want a readership following.  But I am not doing this for my own adulation.  I want for a conversation.  I want to bring to light what life is like for those after abortion.  I hope and pray for my expressions to help hurting souls who may have had an involvement in abortion some way; or maybe those who are contemplating abortion.  I pray for my writings to change the hearts and souls of those who are so called pro-choice.
There are multiple pro-life websites and blogs out there.  All with differing styles and purposes.  Some goals are to bring to light the atrocities of the actual abortion process, expose those in the abortion industry, places to let post abortive persons tell their stories, places to encourage pregnant women and give them all the resource information, being cheerleaders to those within the pro-life movement, and like with me a place to express their own thoughts, views and expressions.  And of course I would be remissed if I did not include that there are also websites that talk of other aspects of quality of life.  But as for me, I am focusing mainly on the anti-abortion side of pro-life.
Along with that, I want to be able to do more than just "preach to the choir."  I have never been one to shirk away from controversy.  I welcome all readers.  I have no problem discussing anything in my posts with pro-choice persons.  If you are pro-choice/pro-abortion I ask that you remain within topic, be respectful of my views (along with other readers) and any other comments, no mocking.  The same goes for the pro-life readers when in a comment discussion of a post.

Back to the writing of the second abortion. I did not write about it because I was proud and all "look at me!  I had an abortion!".  No, I wrote of it because it needed to be said.  I had been debating writing that experience for a long time.  It was a stop gap for me.  Without such a writing, I was unable to go forward with anything else.  Things that need to be said.  Things that need to be shown to the light of day.  Things that will tell of how my abortions affected many aspects of my post abortive life.  Things that will help other women, and men too, realize that they are not abnormal and others or at least another person has had the same things going on.

Abortion and Hoarding? A Connection?

Still working on things to talk about in regards to the Rachel's Vineyard Retreat.  In the meantime; I had planned on doing spring cleaning early.  I started, really I did.  Look, it's May already and not even close to finished!  Well, I did try.  Still planning on working on that.  Got a good portion done in the kitchen.

Went through a lot of my, let's call it what it is, crap!  That's what it is.  So many things found in my cupboards just sitting there taking up space for absolutely no reason.  I have no clue whatsoever how it ended up in my house or what even possessed me to purchase it.  Granted, some of it was given to me by friends and family.  And for whatever reason I just could not tell them "thanks but no thanks."

Oh, it's not just kitchen items that I "collect."  It's anything and everything.   I really don't collect anything specific; I likes, I buys.  I mean I do have some collections that fit in a certain category.  And that's what I am trying to do in my sorting and separating.  If the item is not part of a collection and really truly isn't very useful for any purpose then out it goes.  By which I mean not throwing anything away, I plan on having a garage sale.  Anything I don't sell will be donated to the thrift store.  Yay, you can have my junk!  Lucky you!

So here is where the deep thoughts come in.  So here I am, looking at the said "crap."  Wondering why I even bought it.  Then I wondered, is this one of the residual effects of my abortion?  When I go to a store, thrift shop or garage sale I have this overwhelming sense to buy something, anything, doesn't matter what.  I can search through the store and not find one stinking thing.   So I find some cheap little trinket.  Possibly a 10c. Mason jar.  I really don't need that 10c. Mason jar, and I know at the time I don't need it, yet I buy it just so I can leave with something in my hands. 
Here is where the possible connection to the abortion comes in.  I left the abortion clinics empty handed.  Looking back, I feel empty from the abortions.  Like I left something behind.  I don't want to feel empty.  Yet, after the shopping high is over, I don't feel any better.  Especially if money is getting tight afterwards.  I regret the purchase.  Individual items may be cheap, but those little items can add up.  Both financially and physically.

Again, as I have said a million times before, I am no expert.  I have no idea if there really is an abortion and hoarding connection.  Maybe I am the only one this happens to.  And of course I do know not everyone who hoards has had an abortion and/or has been affected be abortion in one way or the other.  I just know this is a reality for me.  A reality I need to change.

Thoughts on Rachel's Vineyard Retreat

Wow, February 13, 2015; last time I wrote a post?  Has it been that long?  I have had so many thoughts swirling around in that time.  I have wrote out quick quips at the Anastasia and Hanelore Twitter account.  I am feeling that now is the time to write a few new posts.

This past weekend I attended a Rachel's Vineyard retreat.  While I am still processing everything that happened, I would like to express a few of my quick observations.  Perhaps I will write more in detail, without being too personal, at a later time.
For post abortion healing this is a great retreat!  I felt validated to connect with men and women who have been through what I have been going through for the past 20 years.  While their experiences may not have been exactly as mine, I finally felt as though others understood my pain.  There was much peace and healing. I was given many gifts from the retreat, leaders and most importantly a gift of peace from the Lord. 

It may have been Catholic oriented, but all from all faiths are welcome.  I was the only non-Catholic there.  In fact, I am a Christian, a member of a local church, still no "actual" connection to an actual church.  (That is a subject for another post)  Yet, I felt very accepted by everyone.  I even had my own Marian experience/image.  Nothing like "an image of Mary on my toast" kind of thing, but through meditation.

Everyone was given a journal to write their thoughts and stories.  I didn't write anything while there.  I did stay at a nearby hotel after the retreat was over.  There, I did start to write into the journal.  I have more to write into it.  I can pour out more personally into that.  I wanted to make sure I wrote down who gave me what gifts, so as to remember and treasure them.  As to treasure within my heart the persons who gave them to me. 
Oh, there is so much I want to share, but again, I want to write out personally pouring out my heart.  Then edit out that which would be too personal.  There were so many meditation places within the center to reflect on Christ's Sacrifice and God's love for ALL us sinners.  I will forever treasure everything within my heart. 

During my stay at the hotel I created a "portable shrine" from many of the items received from the retreat.  After coming home I set up the shrine at my kitchen table, along with personal family oriented items added.  I prayed the rosary at this personal shrine, along with a quiet meditation.  I truly felt at peace.  A peace I have never experienced before.

Please join me in following reflections and growth to come...