I'll be missing you

I thought a long time about what title I should use for this post.

17 years ago, the worst happened.
My dad moved out. My mother wanted a divorce.

I was only 4 years old.
And I didn't understand.
I didn't talk anymore. I wanted my dad back.
My mother was feeling guilty for causing me such pain.
I didn't understand that either.

She thought about what could make me happy again. Then she had an idea.

She got me a kitty.

And I loved it. From the bottom of my heart. The kitty was my everything. It was a girl, so I called her
Minouche.
I started to talk again. Just with the cat, but still, it was an improvement.
I told her everything. I hugged her and cried in her soft, brown, white and black, coat.
She was the friend who was always there for me.
She used to run to the door when she saw me coming home from school.
She used to sleep in my bed, under the blanket, snuggling at me.
I loved her.
And she loved me too.

This morning I got up and prepared her breakfast, as always. I called her name, but she didn't come running.
I went to see what's up.

And there she was, on the couch, in her favorite sleeping position.

She wasn't breathing anymore.

She peacefully died in her sleep.

After 17 years and 10 months.

You might think it's just a cat. But to me, she was more. She was the one who helped me get through the worst time in my life. I told her more than any of my friends.

I'll be missing her.

So so so much.

I can't even express how much it hurts.

Feeling like High School

I've been on Twitter for a bit more than a year now. At the beginning it was incredibly interesting just to read tweets.
After a while I wanted to participate in discussions. I thought I could just throw in my comments and it'll be as much fun for me as it was (apparently) for the others. So I made comments, remarks and I tried to be positive. I really tried. Sure, I met a few really nice people who actually responded if I had questions but didn't the media say that on Twitter everyone can meet hundreds of new friends? Huh...everyone except for me, I guess.

I had to realize, that Twitter is like High School. The more popular you are, the more fun you have.

There are groups on twitter, like the mommybloggers, or the funny/sarcastic/ whatever mom's or weight loss groups and so many more. As someone who doesn't live in the US or Canada or another big country it is really hard to find people on twitter. Besides, English is not my mother tongue, and I guess people notice that (I apologize for all the grammar mistakes I've done until now OK? Geez.)
I have nothing agains't social media (puh-lease, I'm a facebook-addict) but when you're not in some sort of group, Twitter is probably not as much fun; less people help you when you have a problem. Less people notice when you make a huge announcement. And of course there are less comments on your blog. I spend hours with commenting, even if the blog is crappy (and yes, I know that you probably consider my blog as one of those).

I feel like in High School again. A loner in a community that consists thousands of people.

Maybe it's just me. Am I really that boring/annoying/uninteresting?

My wedding

November 13th was the day X.

I got married.

I was so nervous I nearly threw up. Yeah, nice way of saying "Yes", huh?

But everything turned out very well. The ceremony, the reception and just the whole day were absolutely awesome and perfect. I wouldn't have it any other way.

My bridesmaids

left to right: My cousin Amélie, my sister-in-law Jessica and my best friend Anne

the flower girl Lisa

 

where we held the party (an awesome one, by the way)

the church in which we got married

Our wedding cake
which was so incredibly yummy!!!!

For yesterday's memories

today's love

and

tomorrow's dreams

the 12th week

I had an appointment at my new gynecologist today.
Two weeks ago I've been there too, just to make sure the pregnancy test I made at home was right.

I have no idea about pregnancies. I didn't know if I'd get a picture of my baby or something.

I got one.

And it made me cry. Even though my baby isn't looking like a baby yet. I was flat out overwhelmed.

I blame the hormones!

So many Questions

So I found out that I was pregnant.

And I have so many questions. Mostly it's about the pregnancy itself. And the time after my child is born. I talked to my best friend about this and she said:

"You are a babysitter! You're lookin' after kids for years now. You know what to do."

Huh. Never thought about that. I started babysitting when I was 13. I don't wanna sound arrogant or something, but I am a really good babysitter. Kids seem to love me the moment I step into a house. It's a bit weird sometimes.
Anyways, my friend is right. I know how to handle kids. BUT, those kids weren't my own.
This is an important fact for me. Don't get me wrong, I never, NEVER hurt the kids I babysat on purpose, nor did I teach them stupid things. Never! But there is this this thought in my mind that says: Would you do the same with your own child?

I just don't know whether all this experience is enough. I don't know what kind of mom I'll be.

I don't know anything.
I'm scared.

Baby time

A few weeks ago, my fiancé told me that he wouldn't mind starting a family.

I didn't know what to say. I always thought that men don't want children too soon.

Yeah, my picture of a man is very old-fashioned. An unmarried man likes to party with his friends, not looking after children. I know, this is a cliché. But it's kinda stuck in my head.

That is why I was so surprised that my fiancé told me about his desire to start a family. He is a really good man, I don't have any doubt about this. He's always reasonable and he's rarely acting childish. (Imagine a typical teacher. That's pretty much how sexy M. is like).

I thought about kids frequently, but now that there was a real plan (or at least a wish) it scared me. I don't know how it's like to be responsible for a little human being. I mean, this is something BIG. I don't know how to be a good parent.

What is a good mother like? Strict? Or not strict at all? Or....or....or....

I had so many questions, but at the same time I knew that I wanted this, too. I want to start all this with him. It's him, he's Mr. Right.

So, I stopped taking the birth control pill. My doctor said that it would probably take a few months until I'd be pregnant. Fine with me.

We didn't start to do weird Kamasutra things. Just...you know, normal stuff. All was good.

Eight days ago I thought: "Oh no, tomorrow my monthly present's gonna arrive. Damnit."

It didn't. No signs of the red Lady.

Hmmm. Doctor said this could happen, since I stopped the pill. She said my hormones would probably be on a rollercoaster for a while.

Third day: red Lady wasn't here yet. I got a little nervous.

Seventh day: red Lady nowhere to be seen. Ok. Went to the pharmacy to buy a test. It took me two days to finally do it. Two days until I got my shit together. (Am I just a real sissy or did anyone of you too had this...fear?) 

Anyways, this afternoon I made the test. I was alone at home. 

It took 4 minutes until I had the result. 4 long minutes. I paced around in the bathroom, like an idiot.

To make a long story short (I know, this story already is long...), here's the result I got:

I guess it's baby time.

14.02.1968 - 6.10.2009

Yesterday my uncle died.

Diagnosis: Acute Leukemia

He leaves two children behind, Jess (13) and Yves (11).

Have you ever had to say "Your dad has passed away two hours ago" to two kids who were coming home from school, laughing because they had a funny day?

It's not a good feeling.

I never really believed in god. It's just not something I can believe.

I know, many people are gonna hate me for saying this, but my uncle's death is enough proof for me.

If there really is a god, why would he want to make two innocent kids suffer?!

One of the religious people in my school said: "It might be kind of a test, something god needs them to go through. Because it's god's plan."

Yeah...what a shit-damnit-super-idiotic  wonderful plan.

"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares." 

                                                                                                                           Henry Nouwen