Hello Hurricane

 

This time last year, I didn’t know it yet, but a big part of my tide was about to turn.

It had been a year and a half since my last miscarriage, and Jason and I were longing for another baby.  And when I say longing, I am describing a deep, multi-layered and primal, aching desire that can hardly be understood except by those who have not yet had that desire met or who have had it in their grasp and felt it slip away.

After our last loss, we waited the required amount of time and then began looking for that next baby to come along.  But none came.  Months came and went and came and went at a grinding glacial speed, and no new baby was among them.  I struggled with the emptiness of heart and womb, trying to heal from loss while trying to fill with new life. 

Finally, Jason and I sought help.  Testing showed there was no problem at hand.  “Unexplained Infertility,” the doctor told me with a half-shrug that showed he understood no comfort would come from his words.  Our option was to keep trying on our own, regardless of the countless empty months behind us, or to begin taking a well-known drug that would increase our chances of conception.  One nurse told me, “If you can get pregnant, you will get pregnant on this drug.” 

And before I knew it, I was once again standing before the tide, waiting, willing, watching for any sign of its turning.  I understood it might not.  And I understood that even if it did, I could still be immersed in loss once again.  God doesn’t promise us that everything we want will go our way.  He says that He’ll work it all out for our good.  This is not always comfort in your moment of turning – but it is a quieter, deeper, more foundational promise of well-being than we can know in that moment.

There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear...  1 John 4:18a

I could never understand that scripture before.  But last year it was brought home to me.  Fear comes, it does - and it always will - but when we know that perfect Love of the Father - when we really understand that no matter what things may come along to hurt or scare us, no matter what, that He'll be there to work it all out for our good - then we can weather that Fear.  It comes, it howls and blows over us, and then it passes us by.  And still we stand.

Fear.  It’s insidious.  Even when the best things are happening for us, the things long hoped for, it lurks in the nooks and crannies of your mind.  I’m no stranger to Fear.   I knew it would come, before the hoped-for pregnancy, during the hoped-for pregnancy, and even after the hoped-for baby was born.  If we don’t deal with Fear at the beginning of the season, it will just keep returning – stronger and stronger – at the turn of each new season.

Hello Hurricane | You're not enough
Hello Hurricane | You can't silence my love
I've got doors and windows boarded up
All your dead-end fury is not enough
You can't silence my love*

So I stood on the brink of the turning of the tide, and I knew – even before I saw that the hoped-for child was on her way – I knew I had to plant both feet and wait to weather the storm of Fear that would be on its way.  Oh I knew I could just abandon this desire and run.  And I knew I could also allow myself to be tossed about by the storm of Fear, becoming a wrecked, ruin of a woman.  Or I could count the costs and stand on Love.

Sometimes I would lie in bed, with my hand on my abdomen, praying for new life, praying for health, praying for courage.  Being on the edge of such a life shaking force – the conception, carriage, and birth of a child, YOUR child – can be one of the most awesome and fearful places we will ever be.  The joy and fear are immeasurable.  And knowing the taste of both, I had to face them.  I had to count the costs and face the possibilities.

Everything I have I count as loss
Everything I have is stripped away
Before I started building I counted up these costs
There's nothing left for you to take away* 

So when we saw that little extra line on that beautiful test the morning of July 4, 2011, I was able to rejoice fully – knowing that no matter what would come down the road, Love would not be silenced. 

Hello Hurricane

*Switchfoot, Hello Hurricane

Creative Change

 

I am sitting here at my computer, quite composed actually, sipping tea and getting a little thrill at the thought of actually posting a blog post after what’s been a very long (dare I even count the months) dry spell.

I am remarkably composed, especially in the face of the huge influx of busy-ness and change that looms a mere few days away.  My composure could, I supposed, be termed as repression.  Or perhaps denial.  But either way, I am – as I told a dear friend just this afternoon – feeling remarkably, strangely zen.

You see, on Monday – this Monday – after I pick Siennalee up from preschool, she and I (and Gunther the cat) will squeeze into the packed Acadia and will make the trip up to Albany to stay for the duration of my pregnancy.  Jason will join us the weekend before our sweet baby is born via scheduled c-section on Monday, March 12^th. 

Our temporary move back home to the Willamette Valley allows Baby Girl to be delivered by my own doctor at Sacred Heart Hospital in Springfield.  It also, of course, allows us to be near family and close friends while I recuperate from surgery - which is a very nice place to be, especially when living in a new place farther away from said family and friends.

Planning and packing for weeks away from our home here in Klamath Falls has certainly taken over most of my regular routine.  (But seeing as how my routine has become a slave to my rapidly changing body, sleeping/eating habits, and energy levels anyway, it hasn’t seemed like too much of an ordeal.)  I have still managed to the make the most of the opportunities for friend outings and visits that have come my way – much to my happiness!  The joys of making good, kindred friendships here in Lands Unknown have been very welcome and make my eventual return something to look forward to, rather than something to dread.

And so, since I’ve been regrettably absent from my dear little blog, I’ll leave you with a photo of the latest and greatest creative project – yes, already in progress – that has taken up the majority of my months of blog-silence (photo courtesy of my lovely sister-in-law Anne, or course).

8 Years and Going Strong

It's been 8 years now from this amazing life moment.

I've gone from looking like this:

to this:

And yet somehow, life and love have only just gotten better.

From our first date,

to our first child,

 

and all the wondrously precious moments in between,

it's been an awesome, inspiring, heart-stopping, breath-taking, beautiful and heartbreaking, miraculous, surprising, enchanting and enthralling, lovely, lovely journey.

And I'm so glad you asked me along.

I love you Jason.

A Peek into My July

Whew.  That was a rather long dry spell from me in the bloggery, wasn't it?  I've been traveling a bit and have also been quite busy with several kinds of creative projects - some I can share about, some I must wait to share - but in an attempt to break the dry spell of posts here, I'm going to combine a "whatchya doooin'" post with a "here's one of my creative projects that have kept me busy and therefore not blogging."  

Sooo, without any further ado: 

This past weekend had Jason traveling up to Washington for his Navy Reserve Drill Weekend.  My mom was sweet enough to keep Siennalee at her house so everybody could have a special weekend away.  It was one long drive from Klamath Falls, Oregon up to DuPont, Washington - with a brief stop in Albany to toss the kid and her stuff from the car and then drive away in a cloud of screeching, burned-out tires.  

One of the benefits of Jason's continued service in the US Navy Reserve is that he often travels and occasionally I travel with him.  One of my very favorite Navy Reserve travel destinations is Washington, because when I get to go with him, I get to see Anna and Efiz.

Anna and Efiz live just outside Seattle and have been my friends for a very long time - well, Anna came first and then she brought Efiz in later.  :)  Anna and I have been friends since we were barely 4 years old.  We were besties all through our school years and even now, despite the fact that we don't get to see each other as often as we'd like, the closeness is still right there.

I cajoled Anna into picking me up at the hotel Jason and I were staying at and then taking me home with her so I could then plant on her couch for the entire day Saturday.  I even maneuvered Jason and me in for dinner.  I'm clever that way.

I was especially looking forward to this trip because it meant I was going to get to meet someone very special for the very first time: Anna and Efiz's son Benjamin.  I'd "met" him when he was a bump in Anna's belly, but that's nowhere near as personal as getting to see his little personality bloom and hear his giggles.  And I got to do all that on Saturday.  Oh and hey, look at that - I'd brought my camera along and snuck in some kiddo and family shots. 

(Enter the creative portion of our blog post.)

Anna and Benjamin admiring the wind chimes.

I super heart this face.  Seriously, cute doesn't get much cuter than Benjamin.

Oh wait!  It's a tie!  The cuteness!  The cuteness is overpowering!

I just love candid moments of a happy family.

And just look at Benjamin's face here.  Adorable little flirt!

This one is probably my favorite: there's nothing like seeing pure joy on the face of your bosom friend.  And I love how Efiz is looking at her.  The perfect snapshot of a sweet little family.

"Just Moms" Reading at Frogs & Pollywogs

My very first book reading!  What joy!  I am so blessed and honored to be counted among such lovely ladies and fabulous authors.

The reading was hosted by Frogs & Pollywogs in Albany, Oregon.  Frogs and Pollywogs is a wondrous little specialty toy store that delights both parents and kiddos alike.

I promise you - you will love wandering down the aisles of this sweet store!

Our reading was in "The Lily Pad" which is a loft area upstairs stocked generously with the specialty toys found for sale downstairs, but opened and waiting for kiddos to come play!

And play they did.  

Several of us brought our kidlets with and I imagine they had as good a time as we did!

Two of Jen Rouse's girls, Beth & Lucy

My Sweetheart and one of Cassie's girls, Desiree

One of Melanie's sons perusing the books and Lucy and Siennalee working at the work bench.

Dorcas Smucker kicked things off by reading a her chapter "Wealth Isn't in the Crayons" and then I was next with a summary of mine: "Choose to Be."

 Rebekah was next with hers: "Superhero Jesus" and Jen finished up with a tidbit of her story "Precious in God's Sight" and then a summary of a couple of her favorite chapters.

It was priceless to dialog with these ladies, to hear their takes on their favorite chapters, and to hear - once again - how very important we (and all) mommies are to each other.

We even had groupies there.  :)  Carlie Davis and Cassie Wicks drove up from Junction City just for our reading.  I was quite giddy to have friends there from my home church Christ's Center.  Kristin and Hannah, friends from my Covallis MOPS group (who also hail from Jen and Rebekah's church Grace City - Hannah is the pastor's wife), came as well.
Kristin's the head groupie.  

Word is she even got a "Just Moms" tattoo.  (But you didn't read that on MY blog...)

Top to bottom, clockwise: Carlie, Cassie, Hannah, and Kristin

Our youngest fan - Evie, Jen's youngest

And here are the two ladies who made it all happen: Melanie Springer Mock and Rebekah Schneiter:

And the local writers who attended the reading:

Left to right: Jen Rouse, Melanie Springer Mock, Dorcas Smucker, Rebekah Schneiter, and Jessica Kantola

And just to prove Just Moms isn't just for moms:

My wonderful (and hot) husband Jason also attended the reading.  He drove us up to Albany from Klamath Falls, listened to all of us ladies read and chatter, entertained and wrangled kidlets at large, and then drove us home again.  You're my hero, Love.

What a great day.  Fabulous job, everyone!  Thank you for all being part of such a rich memory.

Rebel Jessica

Somebody finally got a new camera.  (In other words, the whining is finally over.)

30 Rock{s}: Happy Birthday Anne

Today is a very special day.  Today marks my sweet sister-in-law Anne's 30th birthday.

When I was a fresh-from-YWAM 19-year-old and taught drama at my local Christian School (and alma mater), Anne was my very worst student.  She was a terrible, terrible actress.  I spent extra time with her after classes trying to either coax the drama out or shove the drama in - whatever might work.  Anne was a quiet, sweet girl (mostly) and - as I knew from reading my brother Paul's diaries - my younger brother's big crush.

Since it began to occur to me that Anne was likely never to star on Broadway or even just quit school and thumb her way down towards Hollywood, I decided to pull some completely unprofessional drama teacher strings and set things up to where Paul and Anne had to regularly interact with each other in key parts of our production.  (Please note: I never actually was a "professional" drama teacher.)

I was also Machiavellian enough to send another boy - who had a crush on Anne as well - in a completely different direction and therefore would have no interaction with Anne at all.  (Please note: the school did not ask me to return to teaching.)

And although Paul will not only deny ever even owning a diary, but also deny I had a hand in their budding high school romance, I think the proof is in the 19-year-old devious drama teacher pudding.  (And I'll save any further pudding proof for a possible "Happy 10 Year Anniversary Paul and Anne Please Send My Matchmaker Fee to my Child's College Education Savings Account" post.)

However it all came about, I really just want to say how very blessed I am to have gotten a sister out of the whole my-younger-brother-got-married-before-I-did deal.

I never could have imagined how very blessed I would be that my very first sister-in-law has become such a dear friend to my heart.

I never could have imagined, way back in the day when she was practicing so very hard at the part she was so very awful at - yet she kept working and working and working at it - I never could have imagined back then what a powerful and sweet force she would become in my life.

How I would watch her marry my brother and build a beautiful little home with him.

How I sat in that hospital room on that heartbreaking day when we lost our families' very first babies - how I watched her sleep and wondered at how very strong she was, this little girl in the big white hospital bed.

How I rejoiced with her when we found out that Isabella Hope would born healthy and she and Paul would finally be able to take their little baby home to that beautiful little house they'd made.

How my own daughter and Anne's second daughter Gracey would grow together as perfect playmates.

How Anne continually worked and worked and worked in her photography, studying and learning and practicing, not only building a strong, solid business that will last through the years, but creating timeless art out of the precious moments of people's lives.

How she endured personal hardship and heartbreak through the past year especially, pushing past her own hurts and disappointments and choosing to trust in and rely on God to be her Father and her advocate.

How she loves and cares for my stubborn, stubborn, tenderhearted brother.

How she has become the sister of my heart and a touchstone of joy in my life.

I never could have imagined all this of the little dark-haired girl I almost didn't notice in my drama class.

Happy Birthday, Anne.  

And by the way, 30 does rock.

This is an old picture - I wish I had a *really* old one of us when we were both younger and had bigger eyebrows (okay, that was just me).  Looks like we need more pictures together, Anne.

Good Things: Posts, Cleaners, and Oh Look - a Recipe!

Good Things: some quick reviews on some of the newest - and quite random, I assure you - things I've lately discovered.

1., SmartCat Ultimate Scratching Post

SmartCat Ultimate Scratching Post

The SmartCat Ultimate Scratching Post really is all it proclaims itself to be.  Gunther took to it quickly and in the month or so that we've had it, kitty-cat has generally ignored the other features of the house on which he was starting to sharpen those growing kitty claws.  

The scratching post is quite tall - tall enough that a cat can get in a really good, satisfying stretch as well as (as the picture indicates) do a bit of climbing.  (Please note: the cat in the picture is not my actual cat.)  

We also got the SmartCat Perch for the Ultimate Scratching Post which fits nicely on the top of the post and gives Gunther a place to climb to and, well, perch.  Since the post is so tall, he gets a good view of the house, as well as the birds and activities outside yonder window, and probably feels a smug reinforcement of that overall sense that he does indeed own his home.

The post is covered with a rough, jute-like material that he seems to really enjoy scratching.  

The Ultimate Scratching Post, plus Perch, was in all a bit more spendy than some of the scratching posts out there, but the craftsmanship of this post is so solid and the features so perfectly geared for Gunther that I've no doubt the Ultimate Scratching Post will far outlast most of the other like-minded products on the market.  Two thumbs up!

 

2., Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day

Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day Products

In an effort to begin to steer my household toward more natural cleaning products, I discovered Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day.  

My first purchase was a countertop spray in a seasonal smell called orange clove and my-oh-my did it make wiping the counters into a whole new experience.  Even before my orange clove counter spray ran out, I was scoping the rest of the Mrs. Meyer's line-up for its replacement.  

Mrs. Meyer's product scent choices are incredible:  basil, lavender, lemon verbena, geranium, and several seasonal offerings.  I have to admit that the geranium scent is a bit too perfume-y for my taste, but I found the others so pleasant that it was very hard to choose.  I finally settled on basil and am very happy with my choice.  I routinely use the countertop spray and have now added the all purpose cleaner to my arsenal of household cleaners.

Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day products do run a bit higher price-wise than the routine cleaning product; however, if you price them next to other natural cleaners you'll likely find the cost fairy comparable.  I started out with the countertop spray, just to test out the scent and the quality of cleaning.  As my other cleaners run out, I'll be replacing them with more natural cleaners and will likely continue using the Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day line as cost and cleaning quality continue to line up.

Using Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day products is a treat.  It's a little out-of-the-ordinary way to lend a big something special to a very ordinary thing: cleaning.  You're left with a beautifully clean and extraordinarily scented home. 

3., Recipe: Roast Sticky Chicken - Rotisserie Style

Now, if I'd been consulted prior to the naming of this recipe, Roast Sticky Chicken-Rotisserie Style, I certainly would have pushed for a better - or just plain different - name.  Even now that I've made it, the name is still a quandary.  I get the "roast" part, and the "chicken" is a given, and the "rotisserie style" - yes, also important.  But the "sticky?"  

Let's move on.

This recipe is a fabulous roast chicken recipe.  And yes, it is the closest thing to a rotisserie style chicken (without the actual use of an actual rotisserie, or dropping by the grocery store) that you can get.  And the most important part?  It. Is. Fabulous.  

This is a recipe off allrecipes.com, which has been one of my go-to recipe sites for nearly 8 years now.  The most important part of this recipe is to add the seasoning to the chicken and then let it "marinate" in the fridge for at least 6-8 hours.  (I let mine hang out in the icebox overnight and probably will do it the same way the next time I make this.)  Another key to this recipe, besides letting it "marinate," is to stuff a quartered onion - and I also added a halved head of garlic - into the cavity.  The chicken is going to take a long time to cook - nearly 5 hours at 250 - but it is SO worth it.  (The recipe calls for two small fryers but I used one big one and it still turned out beautifully.) 

If you find yourself suddenly in the market for a smashingly good roast chicken recipe, do try this one.

Good Things

I have been sorely missing having a camera to document life.  I must admit that not having a camera - along with some other busy-ness that has recently come my way - has contributed greatly to my relapse in blogging inconsistency, or as the professionals call it: "B.I."

So what's to be done?  In my free moments, I've been trying to think outside my usual "blog box."  This, of course, is best done by talking to myself in the third person.  "Okay, Jessica," I say while wiping down the counters in the kitchen and ignoring the alarmed face my Sweetheart makes when she catches Mommie talking to herself, "so you can't take cute, funny, or sweet pictures of the family, you can't set up and capture images the way you picture they should be when you want to add something fun or informative to a blog post... so what else can you do?"  Then I stop and (turn around so my Sweetheart can't see me continuing the external inner dialog monologue and) ask myself the money question, "What do YOU enjoy in a blog?" 

Well, aside from the fabulous photography blogs I haunt, my other favorite blogs happen to feature motherhood experiences and family stories, which as we've already covered tend to - in my mind - require pictures.  So what else?  And there it was.

I love to read about new things friends have discovered - a new local restaurant, a great book series, children's books and toys, new recipes, techniques in cleaning & time management, fun clothing styles, good deals, etc.  Even things I can't necessarily do any time soon I'm still fond of reading about, such as a couple posts I recently enjoyed very much written by a friend who is keeping chickens. 

So, in the vein of giving back a little of what I - as a blog reader myself - enjoy so much, I'm going to do a post on good things.  (I also briefly considered just calling it "Martha," but then decided that may possibly put off too many of my readers.)  (I also reconsidered this - again briefly - when it occurred to me that I could possibly be contacted by some friends of Martha who happen to be of the legal persuasion.)  (Oh let's just roll the dice, shall we?) 

Good Things: some very quick reviews on some of the newest - and quite random, I assure you - things I've lately discovered.

Oh, and since I'm trying my best to vary my short and long(er) blog posts, the first of my Good Things posts will be forthcoming.

So here's a picture (of good things, of course):

When He's Gone

I’m no stranger to being home alone.  I guess that’s the up side to spending so much time apart from Jason.  When the husband travels, the wife knows what to do.  Anymore I rarely lay in bed jumping at every noise and missing that warm body beside me.  The stormy waters of afternoon-to-evening - when your sweet child turns into some kind of frothing Gremlin - I can usually navigate safely, arriving at bedtime with both kid and mommy mostly intact.  And I can go from cooking nightly dinners down to quick little healthy meals in a snap.  Yup. I can do the home alone thing.

I guess the big home alone test is when your military hubby is mobilized.  Once a wife makes it through that, she figures she can make it through anything.  Oh sure, it’s not like she loves having him gone, even after she's survived mobilization.  She really doesn’t ever completely enjoy being without him.  But she can reach back into her mind and say, “Man, I made it through THAT.  I can make it through this no sweat.”  And she’s off.

So, what’s to do when the husband is gone?  Well, my preference is to turn it into an adventure - especially now that my Sweetheart is old enough to partake in said adventure.  The first day he’s gone I sit down and make my lists.  I do love lists.  I’ve been known to add “Make List” to a previously existing list.  Hey, don’t knock it til you try it.  Scratching something off a list is incredibly rewarding.  But I digress. 

I sit down that first day and make a list of Need To Do’s and Want To Do’s.  The Want To Do’s are, of course, the most important.  Things on my Want To Do’s usually include projects I’ve been working on for a hundred years (and keep hidden from the husband), buffing and repainting the toenails, and some sort of waxing. 

I also add big things to my NEED To Do’s, just to keep them interesting.  You see, the point of all this is to make the week that the husband is gone into something different.  Something unusual.  Fulfilling.  Rewarding.  Special.  So “Give Sweetheart First Hair Cut by Mommie” is added to the NEED To Do list.  So is “Make Cookies with the Sweetheart.”  Several decorating tasks also make the list.  “Fix the Cat” is added this time around.   See, it doesn’t all have to be something fun and enjoyable, big tasks that need getting done are prime for the list.  You know - those tasks that are often pushed to the back burner where they sit, simmering, for far too long and start to turn into messy, boiling ORDEALS.  Then when the week is done, I can look back on it and - with some coquettish bragging to Jason –say, look what I did when Husband was gone.  Go me.

Another trick of mine is to get special food.  Nothing outrageous.  I mean, sometimes I’ll make some special recipes, especially from Pioneer Woman’s Cowgirl Food recipes.  Have you ever tried out her most favorite salad ever ever-ever-ever recipe?  Oh my goodness.  Salad heaven!  But I didn’t do that this time.  (Although now I’m starting to regret that.)  I’ll make things Jason either doesn’t care for or really shouldn’t eat.  (Although, my husband will eat just about anything, so I don’t have a lot in that “doesn’t care for” category.)  I’ll eat things that wouldn’t fill him up unless he ate several pounds of it.  Sourdough bread with EVOO and balsamic vinegar, maybe some goat cheese.  Random snacks of avocados, Roma tomatoes, and whole wheat tortillas.  Angel hair pasta dishes.  Those little meals most men scoff at.  That’s what I like.  This time I got some boxes of vanilla pudding – NOT the instant kind – to cook and revel in.  I knew the Sweetheart would love it.  And boy, I do too. 

I’ll also go to bed early.  Really early.  Well, after the kiddo’s asleep, of course.   Can’t fall asleep before the 4-year-old.  Or I won’t go to bed early.  I might stay up.  Late.  Really late.  Reading.  Writing stories.  Getting wrapped up in those worlds I weave in my mind, with characters and plots and all kinds of intricate storylines fraught with dramatic climaxes and humorous conundrums.  But then, of course, I pay the price the next day with the up-and-at-‘em kiddo.  So the staying up late isn’t as enticing as it once was.  But the point is that if I want to, I CAN.

When he’s gone, my time is my own.  I eat what I want, when I want, or maybe I don’t eat at all.  I may go to bed early, or maybe I won’t.  I can slack on laundry – as long as the Sweetheart and I have what we need.  I may not make my bed (okay, that’s a lie – I always have to have my bed made.  Even if the room’s a hurricane victim, the bed - snappy).  These are the things I focus on.  And before I know it, the week has gone by.  Husband and Daddy is safely back home.  Meals are made.  Bedtimes are abided by.  And I no longer have to remember not to miss that warm body beside me.

My Very First Collagen Implants

If you read my blog, or have talked to me much at all in the past month, you've probably already heard me whining about my most recent struggles with living above sea-level.

Yep.  It's been tough.




Finally, I was driven to do something semi-drastic. 

 Implants.

Not these.

    THESE:

Image from Google Images: Seibel Vision Surgery

Behold.  The Punctal Plug.

That bad boy is perched on the head of a matchstick (in case you can't tell from the thumbnail image I snatched from the 'net).

Not exactly the first thing to come to someone's mind when they hear the word "implant."

And it goes someplace most people would not aspire to or dream of having an implant.

Like here:

Image from Google Images: Seibel Vision Surgery

It's a bit hard to tell from the above image, but what you're seeing there is that itty bitty plug being pressed down inside the eye's punctum.  (The punctum is that minuscule dot on the inside edge of your lower eye lid.)  Go on and check it out in the mirror.  You know you want to.

And see if you can work the word punctum into at least one conversation this week.

So at this point, dear reader, you are wondering what on earth would possess one to allow such a thing to be jammed inside one's eye?

Behold.  My BFF.  The eye drops.

When I finally broke down and went into a local eye doc for help, he inquired how often I was using said eye drops.  "Frequently."  I told him.  "So, what's the frequency," he asked me, distractedly messing with my chart, "once, twice a day?"  "Um, about every 20 minutes," I told him.  His head jerked up with mouth dropped open and - ta da - we began the journey toward tear duct implants.

But dry eye, right?  Why clog up the tear ducts?  Sounds counterintuitive, I know.  The itty bitty collagen plug actually goes down inside the punctum (the eye's drainage port) and forces excess tears to remain in your eye, rather than being tossed out.  It's forcing my body to be sustainable.  Recycle those tears!  How smart.  And a bit sociably trendy, no?

Now getting anything - even something that fits comfortably on the head of a match stick - jammed into any part of your eye is no fun.  But desperation allows you to do all kinds of things you never, EVER thought you could do.   (Childbirth, for instance).

I won't say it was comfortable.  And I won't say it wasn't just a bit psychologically distressing to have someone coming at your eye with a needle a wee bit thinner - but just as long - as a knitting needle.  And I won't go into how I involuntarily scratched my fingernails against the cold, painted metal of the area you're supposed to rest your chin on while the doctor presses a knitting needle into the corner of your eye.  (Random: we watched Shutter Island the evening after the procedure, and it was uncanny the way that lobotomy tool resembled the plunctal plug insertion tool.  Pretty glad I saw the move afterward.)

But, I will say - all in all - I'm glad to have had the procedure done.  I'm now beginning to entertain high hopes of once again wearing contacts without one eye continually blurring, or me fishing for my BFF to give my eye another nip of the good stuff.

All in all, I hope that the results far outweigh the experience.  And I dearly hope that my next implant experience might just be, if not more rewarding, just a bit more fun. 

But probably not this.