Thursday, June 25, 2009

THE KING

I cannot possibly NOT write about this tonight. The King of Pop has died.

Let's try, hard as it may be, to forget about the Michael of the past twenty years. The allegations (which, I admit I believe are very true) of child molestation; the multiple plastic surgeries; the baby-dangling incident; Lisa Marie?; I could go on and on, but I won't.

I want to remember the Michael of my childhood. The Michael Jackson that I had posters of, covering every inch of my 6th grade bedroom wall. The Michael Jackson that wrote and sang some unforgettable music. The Michael Jackson that danced better than anyone I had ever seen. The Michael Jackson who gave us, who gave me, "Thriller," one of the most important albums I have ever owned. Michael was the very first musical performer I can remember getting into.

I learned every dance move from his his music videos, by literally freeze-framing them on my VCR frame by frame until I wore the tapes out.

I had a white glove that I hand sewed hundreds of silver sequins on, so that too could have a sparkling glove.

I wanted to get the red "Beat It" jacket, but my parents wouldn't let me. (Oh, and THANK YOU Mom and Dad, that was a good call!!)

I learned how to Moonwalk.

Because of Thriller, I came to learn all about the younger Michael. I bought "Off The Wall," which to this day still has some of the best dance songs of all time.

I accumulated tons of Jackson 5 Albums, and was absolutely stricken by the incredible talent that he had when he was still a young boy, fronting his brother's band.

I am so sad today about the death of the Icon that was Michael Jackson. I am sad for his family; for his kids; for those who are too young to know just how talented the entertainer was.

In my humble opinion, Michael is the perfect example of the dangers of childhood stars. What an incredible talent he was, but what a tragic life he ended up having. He had such underlying sadness about him, and it seemed that he never, ever, had an opportunity to have an "normal" life, let alone a childhood. Every person deserves to enjoy their childhood, and he is a sad example of what happens when that is taken away. Nevermind the riches and the fame and the talent; I can't help but think that Michael was a deprived person, and that this is what ultimately led to all of his adult troubles.

While I would never, ever excuse or forgive any of his transgressions, most especially the child molestation allegations, I do have a degree of sympathy for the man. When you are raised to be a superstar, when the people in your life that are acting as surrogate parents are Diana Ross and Quincy Jones, people who clearly are more concerned about his success than they are about his emotional well-being, it is a recipe for disaster. Expecting him to turn out "normal" after all we have heard about his childhood? Well, THAT would have been the miracle.

I will always appreciate the artist that he was. And I will always be a little bit sad at the many strange and troublesome turns that his life took. He will be missed, but will live on in his music, which I will always love.
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Sunday, June 07, 2009

MUCH BETTER, THANKS

They say time heals all wounds. I am not sure if that is true or not, but I am pleased to report that I am doing 100% better than I was at this time last week.

It could be that enough time has passed that I am able to put the events of the past few weeks behind me.

It could be that I am off medication, off "recovery time," and starting to get my old life back. Things are starting to get back to normal, though I am sort of forcing them to be. I need normalcy SO BADLY that I crammed about a week's worth of "normal" activity into this past weekend.

Whether it is the distraction tactic (definitely working) or the time factor, I think I am okay.

I never did have that big cry, and while it still could sneak up on me and hit me out of nowhere, I really don't think it is going to. I am surprised to admit that I may not NEED to have that big cry. I have cried so many tears in the past seven years during this odyssey, this crusade. I think when it comes to the topics of "pregnancy", "infertility", "miscarriage", "ivf", etc...well, I think I am all cried out.

If anything positive has come from my latest miscarriage, it is this: I officially have closure. I know that the seven year tour of hell I have travelled is finally over. I will not ever have my heart broken again by a failed IVF cycle, or by a painfully sad ultrasound. I am officially done.

It seems SO ridiculously ironic that, given my history and my medical status, I will be seeking some form of permanent birth control in the very near future. But, as I told my ob/gyn the evening before my D&C, "we all need to recognize our limits. I firmly believe that I reached my limit the last time I miscarried. This is now overkill. I know in my heart that I can't EVER go through this again. And, more importantly, I am okay with it."

And...I really am. I am okay.

In fact, I am more than okay. I feel as though I am reborn; I feel like this enormous cloud has been lifted. I feel like I have been living in a depressing fog for the past seven years, my thoughts and my emotions muted and grey. Infertility: the gift that keeps on giving. But I am finally going to take control; I am no longer at the mercy of this "condition" I have been suffering. I am done, and it feels fantastic. This chapter of my life is finally finished, and I am closing the book on it for good.

Knowing that makes every day feel better and better. Today, in fact, was one of those days where simply feeling the warm sun on my shoulders, simply breathing in the fresh spring air, simply "existing" felt exhilirating. Today was a wonderful day, because today I didn't have to think about anything other than how good it felt to just be.

Here's to a lifetime of more days like today. And here's to putting the past firmly behind me.

Here's to finally feeling okay.
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