goings on

prelaw advisor subtext: this is good, but don't say it like you're an angry feminist.
my subtext: but i am an angry feminist.


when after more than a year i finally get my law school applications in:

when i hear the 100th person at work say that the us constitution will hang by a thread:

trying to coordinate with my brothers about pies for thanksgiving.

trying to explain feminist underpinnings of jessica jones to dh while he trolls me:

when i have to go to work instead of finishing the last four episodes of jessica jones:

when joy gets a PG13 rating:


 when i just want to enjoy thanksgiving but my dad died and work is blowing up (AGAIN) and i have to take the LSAT on december 3rd:

that moment when you debated buying a body chain for like a week and were like "nah pretty sure those are 90s and people will think i'm trashy" and then jennifer lawrence is wearing one in her diane sawyer interview. that is like, the same as permission to buy one, right?

had my first coffee today when they accidentaly gave me the wrong drink. so rebel, much wow. didn't hate it.. but i think it's still the straight and narrow for me for now.

a few days after the funeral i had a dream about my dad. i dreamt that we were all at his funeral but instead of being in a casket we had laid his sunday-clothed body in a shallow grave and put a cloth over his face. we were in the process of the funeral when he started stirring, just a little, and there was a hushed discussion in the crowd as we waited and as someone told him it was time to go now.

i often have large scale disaster dreams but aren't about the disaster but about trying to survive after. i had one where my family was with me, including my dad, but he had no legs (and still soldiered on).

last night i dreamt that we came home to our family house and there was water in the window wells--a basement flood. my dad looked at it in despair, in his frail little body, and then set to work diligently making plans and moving the water. i was making plans in my head to ask at work about the carpet cleaning and hoping they would do it for free.

the dreams are getting less frequent and honestly the month-mark since my dad's death passed unceremoniously. actually i was taking the LSAT the day after the one month mark.

my dad passed away at home in the living room where he was the last little while in his hospital bed. my mom was home alone with him--actually, his nurse had just left the house minutes before and was still taking down notes out front in her car when my mom started to hear the death rattle. mom prayed she wouldn't be scared and sat by his side until he passed. they had a very unusually full schedule that day and dad died in the half hour when no one was coming or going.

hospice came to take the body (my brothers were home by then) and left a rose on the hospital bed in his place. my family talks about how respectful it was and how much closure it provided them. i kind of wish i could have been there to see it happen. i think of how doctors are supposed to say "so and so is dead" instead of using some euphemism like "not here anymore" to help the loved ones come to terms with the death, and it's not that i think i have a problem with that. i think i know he's gone. but i think it would have been an important human rite. then again, as the biggest worrier and as someone who lies awake all night over the smallest things, perhaps it's good i wasn't.

when we arrived at the house that night it was already like nothing had happened. we actually met the family at my brothers' soccer game--they wanted to play to honor their dad. there was some other family there. the first night was very painful because of what i think must be a natural phenomenon, which happened with dh's mom as well when his dad passed. all i wanted was my mom, but all she wanted was other people. it felt completely isolating and jarring, but i can't blame her. how, in one of the biggest moments of your life, are you supposed to be there for your kids? a widow needs company and maybe not to give company. as painful as it was i took comfort knowing dh had felt that way too and that hopefully it would pass.

one of the things that hurt me was that my mom never told me directly how my dad had died. i overheard her telling it in a whisper to her sister and that's how i know what happened. it's not that i wished for her to relive it again and again, but it was difficult that i was never given a direct history of how it went.

i tried to let it go and countered by asking mom if i could go to the funeral home with her and her mom and sister, whom she had invited, the next day in order to finalize the funeral details. she of course agreed. it was a pretty short and to the point meeting (the funeral home actually kind of offered my mom a job because of how organized and professional she was, "by the book," and i don't think they were really kidding), but it was good to be included and to go. it provided a lot of closure.

we spent quite a few days at the house after and it was very healing.

when we returned for the funeral it was a crazy trip. we had a private graveside service with family only. there were no talks or "church stuff" as my dad had said, and no clergy. it was wonderful and so natural to my dad. my grandpa conducted the service.

the main part of the service was that all the adults in the family got a rose and got to go up front, say something about dad, and then put their flower on the casket. everyone shared memories and said goodbye. in advance our immediate family talked a lot about how they didn't think they would say anything. it turned out that my brothers gave very beautiful thoughts, especially the one in particular who was the oldest at home and went through night after night after night of worrying over and listening for my dad and taking care that he was okay until he passed.

in the end, i was the only person who didn't say something. honestly i never even considered saying something. it was a funeral fit for my father and it was fitting to both of us that i didn't need to say anything. i spent a moment at the casket until i could speak and said, "bye dad," as i put my rose on top.

afterward everyone who mentioned it said the same thing: "it's okay. he knows what you meant." "he knows what was in your heart." i thought it was pretty thoughtless and unguided. i said exactly what i meant to say--goodbye. i had thought i would try to be stoic during the funeral and let it pass, as i had let everything pass, but instead i let myself feel it. i cried openly and really mourned and felt every thing. so, i was a mess the entire time. but it's not like i got to the casket and choked. it was strange how much they didn't get it, but also pointedly irrelevant.

i got what i needed, which was to say goodbye to my dad.

but if you ever find yourself in the situation, don't speak for someone's dead loved one. even if you're their mom. people mourn in unexpected ways, but they mourn in a very personal way and exactly how they mean to. and mourning, perhaps more than any other human experience, doesn't need framing or narration.

after everyone had a chance to share dh sang my mom and dad's song with the guitar and i read my dad's testimony he had written for the occasion, and we were done. i say this as a naive person who wasn't involved in the heartache my parents went through, but the funeral was beautiful in that my dad had helped plan it--down to the last details.

we went straight to the luncheon at the church and my tampon leaked on my white dress and the rest of that is history. it was kind of an easy out and while we were all in a good mood at the luncheon it was nice to leave without having to say goodbye to anyone (at the graveside a hug line formed--twice). the party my mom always said she would have not surprisingly never really happened--we all kind of went home and napped and fizzled out. the extended family eventually all fizzled out too and the rest of us, the core of us, were left for a time to ourselves.

my brother got engaged that weekend and life moves on surprisingly quickly. my other brother and his wife lost their sweet baby. things are rolling on and i don't know that it's really quite hit me yet, the depth of the despair and the realization of what is lost. on the day he died i was talking to my mom about how we were so focused on the cancer and the hospice for so long until the end that once it was all over there was kind of this realization that he was more than a cancer patient. he was so much more than that and so much had happened before cancer happened. at least for me, i didn't realize until it happened that i still needed to mourn my dad and not just a cancer patient.

i'm sure more of that will come. we haven't been back to my mom's since the funeral and that time will soon come. i am glad we are all close together and we can fold into the holidays and let this, too, pass over us. there is still a lot left i have to feel.

and, i miss my dad.

life trudges on.

i plan to write about my dad soon, but i can't yet.

law school is looming larger and larger. i know we are weird about religion here but i will still say that i have felt blessed through all of this. i know i never could have done it if i wasn't able to pull myself up by the bootstraps and wake up from my situational depression, but the necessary people i had to pull into my life have been like beacons. and, they are all women! what are the chances that a recovering and sometimes defensive feminist living in one of the most conservative parts of the country would get to work with a female professor, a female pre law advisor, and a female lsat instructor.

my lsat instructor told us to email her at any time of the day or night with any questions, no matter how specific, and that should would get back to us as soon as she could. she was quite the opposite of me--she has a science and a law degree and has a math brain for sure. but her tough love gave me so much.

my pre law advisor is wonderful and fields all of my long, worried, intense emails. i have had trouble getting time off work to go in to meet with her after taking so much time off when my dad died and since i'm currently having a mini melt down about the lsat she offered to come to my desk where i work this afternoon and discuss my options with me. i can't believe how above and beyond she has gone for me. the first time i met her i explained that i really just needed to know if law school was even plausible and if i could do it and she put her hands on the desk and said, "yes. megan listen to me, seriously. you. can. do. this."

and my professor was kind, understanding, and honest--everything you need someone who recommends you to be. if it wasn't for her, i wouldn't have a letter of rec from a professor, because all the other professors retired.

so amidst the studying and fighting through all this i feel so much love and support.

if there is one lesson i have learned this year it's that you have to ask for what you need. because when you do, your detractors shrink and people you may not even know will come to bat for you.

speaking of detractors... work sucks ass more than ever. long story. but i have a job interview tomorrow for a position my managing director invited me to apply for. also a long, long story... but i have a ridiculously strong application and a good reason to think they'll hire me if i don't mess up the interview. the managing director is retiring and he literally told me this is his last ditch effort to get me out of here before he retires. (he is and has always been wonderful and a strong supporter of me). despite it all, i am trying not to get my hopes up, but who knows--it could totally happen. after years of struggle and job searching, i could have a job literally given to me.  wouldn't that be seriously the most ridiculous and ironic thing?

ps - my guilty pleasure lately is watching sex and the city. i know a lot of people would say this makes me a bad feminist and inside i'm like "don't tell me how to feminist!!!" but then i watch it by myself in the night so no one knows, so what does that tell you.

dear brother:

so. you're going to have a baby. i dreamt about you and your probably weeks old child last night after you called me to let me know. you may or may not ask me at this big turning point in your life why i haven't had kids; i could see it being something you would ask. we come from very different points of view in life right now, and in case you ask, i want to write out my thoughts first and give you an answer that is kind to both of us.

there is a reason dh and i aren't having kids right now (and it's not that we're selfish). for me, it is a matter of responsibility, which breaks into two basic parts.

the first one is the responsibility of providing for a child. i don't want to be boring and talk about the economy, but that stuff is real. it is really important to me to be secure financially--even if that security was just a stable plan--and to be secure in my marriage before having kids. i'm a very independent person and believe self efficiency, in every way, is more important than almost anything. beyond physical needs, there is a voyage of going from boyfriend/girlfriend to husband/wife and it begins, not ends, on your wedding day. it also comes at a steep cost which many find worth it, but not all. while i have learned and am learning better than to judge any person and their choice, it has been a powerful experience for me to realize that as an empowered and secure woman in my mid-twenties on her way to law school, i don't feel ready, and that surely that must mean there are a grand host of to-be parents who weren't ready and--for belief or for duty or for religion or for whatever reason--decided to press on and be parents. it's easy to say that a person can't ever be ready to have kids and that it's just a step you take. but i think there's a difference between i don't know if i'm ready and i am NOT ready, which is what i feel. which leads me into my next point.

the second one is a responsibility of providing for myself. when i got married, people--especially people in the church--started treating me differently. it's extremely hard to explain it, but one good example of it is that if someone in the ward had a question for me, they would ask sam rather than getting in touch with me. there was an unspoken understanding that he was now in charge of me, but that wasn't how our relationship was and i hadn't consented to it. in general, people were treating me in a way that i hadn't consented to be treated. honestly, it was shattering and sent me into depression. i was the same person as i was the day before i got married, but now it was like i lived in a different universe. people i had never discussed cooking with were asking me what i was making for dinner. it caused me to reevaluate everything and is what led me to be a feminist. one of those expected things was having kids. i was suddenly expected to adore kids, want kids, talk about kids all the time, and be crazy about kids, make the focus of everything i did being a mom--which i wasnt--and i didn't feel that way. it made me realize that my agency is important.

when i imagine explaining this to you in person i imagine you replying with: "that's sad." that the husband is the head of the household and that there are certain implications of getting married. you are of a very conservative vein and if that works for you, that is great. but for me personally, it was the only way to be true to how i felt about myself and how i thought god felt about me. you might say that having children is a temple covenant and the only way to self actualization. i would reply that there are many, many things we don't know about temple covenants and that there are innumerable ways to give service in this life. after all, those who are becoming dads and especially moms are often then not becoming doctors, humanitarian workers, lawyers, scientists, astrologists, engineers, authors,  theologians, and politicians.

this would be the end of my spiel. there are some things i won't say to you. to be frank, you seem to have married into money so i'm guessing money isn't an issue for you. but with only one semester of college, no career plans, and a partner who isn't nearly finished with school and will need further schooling to work in her field, i am concerned for what may be your decreased opportunities. i mean, for heaven's sake, the two of you haven't paid rent a single day of your marriage yet. especially in a feminist relationship with both partners on board, certainly school is very doable and financial security is (hopefully) attainable even with kids. but something i learned the hard way is that even a small decision drastically changes your entire life, and you can never go back. in this situation you've chosen, you will have to fight hard, and i know you will. but it is already such a hard battle to have kids. you have to provide emotionally. i am worried that your new marriage--you've only been married for three months and things may seem great but you can't understand what will come.

i told you on the phone how excited i was for you, and i meant it. i've had a hard time saying that to our cousins, especially, because it wasn't true at all. but i could hear the excitement in your voice. i hope everything works out and you have this joy, if it's what you want. i'm sure mom will be excited. it is weird to have a flurry of life happening right after dad's passing, with an engagement and now a baby. but we press on and perhaps that is the best way to honor him. everyone deserves their agency, and you deserve anything that will make you happy.

my mom has been my dad's first line of cancer defense day and night for two and a half years. she has been there for every moment, every set back and triumph, every single bad thing that has happened and also for all the good days. combine this with the fact that she has also been the mouthpiece, the one who tells us kids what is happening and where my dad is at, and it has been a roller coaster ride. every few days something will happen and my mom will text us that dad will die soon, maybe in the next couple days. i checked my phone last night to a text saying that my dad could barely breathe and that he was saying that if he went to sleep he wouldn't wake up. i called my mom and she said she thought he had hours, but possibly days, left. we made the decision to stay put and not go to my parents'. then this morning i get the text that he is fine, walking to the bathroom on his own and asking for food.

i think she feels an unbearable burden to keep us updated lest anything happen and one of us ends up mad at her wishing things had happened differently. i think the burden of being that mouthpiece is one of the worst parts of it for her. as a result, every fear and every worry is not a bump but a jagged roadblock. it is in the end empowering to feel her calm care and her desire that each of us grieves and says goodbye how we need to, enabled by her very honest communication. and while i sometimes think--fuck. i cannot go on like this until he passes--i think we will look back and not regret a thing.

i simultaneously feel that she is acting so strange and also feel (very strongly) that everyone grieves in their own way. when we were there last i was thinking that she seemed kind of reverted to teenagehood/singlehood/i don't even know. she spent a lot of time on her phone texting her friends, snapchatting and sending silly pictures. she went shopping for a new blow dryer and some skin products. her counselor at the hospital told her to make one good change in the midst of this passing, so she bought all new bedding and a bunch of us had a great time unfurling it all and fixing up her pillows and getting it just so. it doesn't seem that weird, but when you consider that my dad has moved to a hospital bed in the living room and will likely never sleep in that bed with her again--she was making that bed anew for her and herself alone--there is a different dimension to it.

it's all a ball of contradiction. and my mom was a ball of contradiction even in normal years. through the anxiety and the clinical depression and the--frankly--fighting and sometimes the hell of us all growing up under her sensitive and therefore controlling arm, she has always been a 21 year old at heart--a playful, rebellious, we-are-infinite believer, more than anyone else i have met. she has a young heart and soul. after my dad's funeral my mom will not be receiving anyone--no, we in the immediate family will be returning to the house for a dance party and food. there is a powerful sense of how relieved we will be, and also there is a powerful sense of her future, that she will get a life she never had--to go to school, to study, to live on her own terms, to do what she wants. that she will get a second chance on the youth that she willingly gave to my dad and to us, her kids. i suspect a lot of her acceptance of me--law school, possibly no kids--has come from her own experience of realizing she will soon be on her own and that a lady in the end has to do some things for herself--she will be, in a sense, trapped by the things she didn't do, like finish school, but also finally free to do things for her, like study anything she wants worry-free now. she raised her family and she raised us well. i think it was a hard and often dark time for her. she truly gave of herself and i have never met anyone as selfless as she has been. it's hard to convey in writing that as weird as this is, i can't blame her at all for her hope and her regeneration.

we take the weird as a very definite and important part of reality. she is ready for him to pass. OF COURSE she is. we all feel that way a little bit, but maybe not as acutely as she does. perhaps that's why it's so difficult to see my dad's denial, terror and sadness at his own mortality. my mom continues to care for him endlessly, selflessly. as ready as we are, i don't think he knows it because as ready as we are, there is no sense of anxiousness when we are with him. it is very, very squarely readiness and not impatience. perhaps that is the kind of readiness god feels. when we are in a moment with him there's a sense of eternity in the most lds-sense--a sense that those memories will never die, that that love will never end, and that we will have more moments like that together.

so yes. all of this results in a bunch of weird drama. and perhaps it will go on like this for a while that my dad will tell us he will not wake up again and then wake up and ask for yogurt. it is the ironic cost of grieving, coming to terms, and eventually of peace.

two weeks ago i was expecting to spend last week in the ICU, waiting for a slow recovery, waiting maybe even for my dad to pass away in or right after surgery. i thought it would be like last time--no cake walk, certainly, but doable--a lot of quiet time at the hospital, a lot of helping my mom out around the house.

i must admit i was pretty surprised to essentially jet off last monday night to word that there would be no surgery. instead, hospice. instead, waiting, instead, "enjoying the quality of life that he has left." when we got there my mom kept saying how peaceful and right the decision felt. my brother said how much better my dad seemed since he had decided not to do the surgery, which honestly completely displaced my mind and heart because my dad was an absolute wreck: not really making eye contact with anyone. starting to cry when he was left alone in an empty room. weak and generally spending most of his time curled up in the fetal position on the couch. this was the peaceful option that was right? this was him in his better state?

they should add a tenth circle of hell because a hospice home is its own circle of hell. the nurses and the care are fantastic--my mom couldn't believe how many resources were available to her, and after all this time of having done it all alone--the pills, the appointments, the helping him shower--i am relieved for her. she is even thinking she will take respite and come visit us for a few days.

but oh, the quiet, unholy, longsuffering, understated hell of our family home last week. i have one brother who was so in shock that he would smile like a maniac during every conversation about death, every conversation about how to call hospice now, every conversation about how to help my dad in case they are home alone together.

my reaction was pretty similar. generally the last few weeks i have avoided thinking about it, avoided crying, avoided losing it. i told myself i was weathering it well. but then, the wednesday we were there, i woke up pretty much incontinent. okay... i can deal with that. but then that night i started throwing up, and i was that way all night, i couldn't even take a sip of water. there were a lot of conversations about how even as a little girl i felt stress as physical illness. it was post barf when my mom told me with the weirdest mix of horror and care in her eyes that if it was too much to handle emotionally i could go home and no one would think different. i told her i was fine and then barfed again and cried in my bed for an hour and then slept for 36 hours. when i started trying to get up i was so weak that i couldn't stand up for more than a few seconds. when i finally showered i got dressed and laid down with my hair in a towel and slept for a few more hours. this continued on into thursday when we came home, and i was still so unwell that i took friday off to stay home sick.

apparently i slept through the worst of it. through the nurse teaching them how to administer the anti seizure medication to my dad. through my dad's parents laughing in her face and arguing endless with my mom when she tried to explain hospice; through my grandpa saying that he had blabbed everything to my dad's boss, even though my mom tried so hard to keep them on a need to know basis so she could continue getting paychecks. through my mom exploding on everyone and leaving the house for hours at a time.

all this time, for two and a half years, my dad has been in denial about the fact that he would never get better. there are a lot of cancer patients who live with true joy, who truly understand their limits, and who go on living in the fullest sense. this is not and has never been my dad. even when the tumor returned and they came back from the doctor's appointment he told us he wanted to be around for more weddings, grandkids, etc. my mom had to remind him that no, even best case scenario, he wouldn't be. fast forward a maybe-surgery then no surgery and now hospice and he has finally seemed to imagine it is the end. the wednesday i got sick he had asked us to take him out to a bunch of stores and one thing he looked at were these new, expensive, special bike pedals he could use to ride his stationary bike... which he will probably never ride again. it was a lot of that. it's like he's scared absolute shitless but his mind still can't comprehend that this is not another crescendo but a grand, closing diminuenco. the only other thing my mom said about his decision about the surgery was that he was more afraid of recovering from surgery than he was of going on hospice. it is in no unkindness and in no bitterness that i say that it seems to me there could be no normalcy or breath or good "quality of life" times after having to make such a decision based solidly on fear. it's not his fault; it's not anyone's fault.

i wish i could say there were good, sweet things, too. i suppose getting to spend time with my dad before i know he will pass should be. but honestly it's not as if he is in a process of acceptance, or able to look on the bright side, or like there is any actual peace in it.

i was mostly feeling better until i came back to work this morning and everyone asked me how my long vacation was. i guess from now on it will be weathering stupid comments and getting by my menial life, trying not to throw the fuck up from the stress, while i wait weeks or months for the call.

dad is going in for surgery on tuesday or wednesday of next week. we were already planning to take most of the week off for our anniversary so it worked out with work. best case scenario, he has the surgery and is able to move around the house, dress and bathe himself and he will have a few more months and they will continue any treatment he would like to do--experimental chemo, high dosages, etc. worst case scenario, he will not be functioning and will go on hospice. even though the doctors will take any treatment course my dad wants, he will not make it long.

while my dad was napping and before dh and i left yesterday the family was all together and talking through everything. my mom proposed that we ask heaven to take him home in his sleep or during the surgery. we don't want to see him suffer any more. to her surprise, we all felt the same way and agreed on some times to fast together. obviously we are not telling anyone this, not even extended family.

so i come in to work today fasting that my dad will die and i'm just trying to not bite people's heads off and it's obvious my old boss le douch went through my stuff while i was gone and made a bunch of little physical changes to the office, so i am trying not to blow a gasket. at least he didn't have the balls to ask me about my dad at all, with that stupid, awful fake grin on his fucking face. my PVC has been acting up the last couple days so i am trying to let everything go, be non confrontational, and not add more stress that could give me other symptoms. mostly i just hope everyone here leaves me alone.

another thing my mom shared with us is what she has in mind for what kind of place she wants to move to eventually. my dad's life insurance is enough to buy her a house and pay for a few years of college. we started joking about all the kids that will eventually be running around (all of us kids were there, miraculously), and she asked us all how many kids we would like to have. truthfully. really. honestly. "one or two." i said. "really? one or two or maybe.. none?" she says. there was just kind of a moment and she then said that if i decided not to have any kids that she was completely fine with it and that she trusted me to know what was best for me.

i don't know how that woman does it. and i don't know how, just like that, that conversation i never thought i would have was completely fine.

more than that, we all enjoyed being together and laughing so much together. one night we stayed up until two am just telling jokes and talking. it was wonderful to be together.

i'm mourning a lot of things and i'm not even sure i know what they all are yet. but hopefully the weekend comes quickly and it will be a hop and a skip before we're back in idaho and waiting to see what will happen.

my dad was having symptoms yesterday so they went in for a scan. his tumor is back, about half the size it was before, different shape. they have a meeting with his oncologist on tuesday.

me in relief society

"Lawyers are fucked up in complicated and interesting ways. Pop culture is lousy with lawyers: heroic underdogs, scheming villains, charm-deficient disasters. But when we meet a lawyer in real life, especially a corporate lawyer, most of us can’t get away fast enough. I remember the effect I used to have at parties when I came out with my calling. The widening eyes, the rearing back, the vague: “Oh, yeah?” The rapid departure for the drinks table. We’ve made our collective judgment: corporate lawyers are deadly bores or aggressive assholes. Sometimes both.

"But lawyers are often so much more. They’re extremely smart, but often clueless about the world. They’re profoundly neurotic and highly articulate—in other words, crazy and unable to stop talking about it. They’re great compartmentalizers. They curse beautifully, drink excessively. Many of them write poetry, or make music—and they’re wide and voracious readers. They’re often deeply unhappy, but for interesting reasons: because they failed at what they really wanted to do, or were too afraid to try, or because they’re self-aware enough to perceive their own failings but helpless to fix them. The disconnect between appearance and reality in lawyers is profound. Scratch the staid, careful surface of the most upstanding member of the bar, and you just may find a raging, maniacal, fascinating heart." - Eliza Kennedy

Is it weird that this is strangely comforting to me? Like, if I could just get semi-naturally herded in with all the other boring weird people who are manic just below the surface, that would be one of the biggest reliefs of my life. Also, is it just me or is saying someone curses beautifully and drinks excessively a weird messed up, huge compliment to give to someone in a Robert Downey Jr kind of way?

yesterday i had my first doctor's appointment as an adult. first general, elective one, anyway. i spent days searching for doctors and sifting through profiles, finally finding one who came highly recommended and was an especially good listener. and she was.

it went well and i'm schedule for my first pap smear, which is its own fun experience. but it's only increased my thoughts lately about being child free. about more permanent options. about what it would be like to look into my doctor's eyes and hear myself ask about sterilization.

here we have a word that i am afraid of more than any other. actually i am afraid of saying or even thinking it, not really the word itself.

sterilization.

like, you can't even think this word without fearing people will think you are insane. that you've already made an irreversible decision just by thinking of it. it's not acceptable and it's a direct path to being branded as someone who doesn't contribute to society.

i will probably at least ASK my doctor about it not soon, but eventually. it's also weird to think that while i still feel 18, i am 25. i know women with four or five kids by twenty five. i admit it's a new thing to tell myself that i have the right, experience, and wisdom to make a decision like this for myself. like most things in my life, most big decisions, if it happens it will be premeditated for years and i will think on it and sit on it and wait on it quietly and keep it inside myself until one day all at once it just happens.

and it is already brewing inside of me. all the thoughts, all the possibilities, complications, outcomes. i have already been taught by society which things to dread and fear: my partner will leave me. my family will mourn or despise me. i will live a life filled with regret and despair.

but i can't help think of the good outcomes. some of them are trivial. like, i will be able to get up on sunday morning and read, undisturbed. or i could get a bidet.

some of them run deep. there is freedom from intense personal but outside influences that could trigger my depression, which, when not triggered by my hormonal cycle, is situational and has been since i was a teenager. i can't imagine a parent who doesn't occasionally or even often get into a situation that could trigger depression in anyone.

there's freedom to work and give everything i have. freedom to embrace my career and have extra time and energy to devote to changing the world. to fall into the depths of law and discourse and become a force to be reckoned with. make something of myself.

i wish there was a breakdown of child free people by personality type. are INTJs especially prone to be child free? are there are other introverts who are so sensitive and at risk of big disruptions in their lives from the smallest glances or words from others--other people who sometimes physically can't even THINK freely when someone else is just standing or sitting in the room minding their own business--that they became child free in order to avoid one of the most complicated, strapping, and irreversible human relationships, which comes with no privacy and no rest?

there are the physical reasons. besides the obvious pain, it's a shame i didn't think about this before i was overweight--i've messed up what i'll go ahead and say is a pretty fantastic body. not that i don't think it's fantastic now, but you can't reverse stretch marks naturally. at least no one will be able to say i don't want kids because i'm vain; i'm probably now as heavy as my mom was after having her five kids, around 240 pounds.

there's a feeling i want to describe as control but that i think is more accurately described as relief--it was around the time i realized people were child free that i felt this choke hold i didn't know i was feeling loosen. i felt able to make decisions about my life again. i felt powerful to create my life. i actually looked forward to life--a full life unto death--again for the first time in a while.

i know there are women who "have it all" and have kids and careers. i think they are inspirational, and thank them for demonstrating what is possible. i know that adoption is a long and arduous process that is difficult on the heart and not an easy, flippant alternative or back up plan. i know that sterilization is not condoned by the church and if i went that route i would have to keep that secret potentially the rest of my life if i decide to stay active in mormonism.

i know all of this and i'm starting to learn about options. just LEARNING about possibilities makes me feel calm and empowered. there is good research, a lot of it anecdotal. there is also a lack of research, like, what is the chance of pregnancy if both partners are sterilized?

and so i press on and see what there is because after i consume everything i can find, after i consider, perhaps for years--perhaps for years and years--all the options, i know one day it will be like a timer will go off and i will know which path to take. and this is the option less traveled by so it's the one occupying my waking and sleeping hours of late.

i wouldn't watch devotional if i didn't get paid to do it, but when the speaker addresses those who are thinking of leaving the church and finally it's a devotional for me.

when my grandma posted on facebook that the colored lights on the white house after the ruling on gay marriage offended her as much as the confederate flag offends "the black population" and that the president needs to have some class... and i realized this is why i haven't really had a meaningful conversation with her in years. and why it feels like she's given up on me. if we try to spend time together i have nothing to say when she spouts shit like this. and why i probably wasn't even invited to the last family reunion.

i spent a lot of time with my dad last week and only had one close call, when he started going on and on about having kids and how it's the only way to reach our full potential in this life. i bought this book and can't decide what to do with it when i finish it--donate it to the library? hand it off to someone in the same boat? we will never be able to be open about not having kids, neither of our families would understand. this is something that haunts me, because it was a couple who was open and matter of fact about their decision that helped me. like, one day when i'm 35 will someone finally ask when we're having kids and we'll have to be like, "yeah we tried, but it didn't work out and we're okay with that"?

my dad also keeps going on recently about how hard it was to give a daughter away and how with daughters and sons it's different because girls are "vulnerable" and need someone to take care of them and provide for them. but that one we can take in stride.

probiotics are the best kept secret.

i am worried about people at the gym judging me.

we have started to dream about where we might eventually end up and settle. maybe california.

i went to see max with my family while i was visiting them, which to me is essentially the definition of true love.

i am learning to come to terms with how much of an asshole i am.

i had two friends get married the same month as me and as of today they are now both divorced. marriage is hard. i think after three years i'm only starting to realize what it means to love selflessly and that i have for three years and perhaps longer been taking way more than i gave. it's quite harrowing. so much goes into it that no other person could ever understand. i'm glad to live in a time where, at least more so than in the past, women can go in and out of marriage with dignity and conscience and in their own way, that marriages can live and die by health and consent.

dh wants to limit ourselves to one or to orange is the new blacks a day and i am like
HAHAHAHAHAHA

also

i quick google search of "help i'm addicted to the sims" did not disappoint.

threads like this

and the fact that they had artists record hits in simlish:

it's just that... dh is going on a solo trip this weekend and i am actually afraid that i will just end up playing the sims for 75 hours straight.

three things that are getting me through this job

1. the app poop salary. seriously, this is my greatest new hobby. you put in your salary and record when you're in the bathroom and it then literally tells you how much you've been getting paid to poop. since i started keeping track two weeks ago, my boss has paid me $21.38 to poop. sometimes when he makes me mad, i just think about that.

2. this mantra: "This is only temporary. De-invest."

3. my biggest problem is that when i get upset about something, i think about it all day and night and feel just as upset for a while after the problem has passed. so when i can't get something off my mind, i write down all my thoughts about it at once (usually it's something so stupid, like an off hand comment or the way someone does their spreadsheets). when i'm finished, i write the topic on a little piece of paper and then i use a tealight to burn it. i burn it all the way down and promise myself that now i will not get upset about that anymore because i let it go. and the thing is, it really works. so a tealight is essentially putting years back on my life which is pathetic and also great.

well, i'm still alive.

portland was wonderful. it was such a dream to be there and very emotional to be back. we spent a few days in the city just the two of us, and then we met my family in my hometown for the wedding festivities. the portland part was lovely and lazy and we loved just going around on public trans and seeing everything. the food was unbelievable. we had a great hotel and when we walked down onto the street, literally there within a block was a variety of amazing restaurants, the art gallery, a park, a plaza, and a movie theater. if only we'd had more time and energy to do more (though, no regrets). the hometown part was crazy and all nerves--lots of family and lots going on. while we were there i was stressing--we were mostly in the hotel or in the middle of family craziness. but when i slowed down and really thought about why i was stressed, i realized i just wanted things to slow down so i could spend time with my family. i realized i could see them all i wanted back home and suddenly being there wasn't even so important any more. it was a little moment of healing and realizing that, while i love where i'm from, home is where my family is, and i'm looking forward to a summer with them.

the sealing was weird. the sealer knew my new sister in law, a lifelong family friend or something, and kept talking about how great she was and how nice it is to appreciate the outdoors--two things that are, to me, really unrelated to getting sealed for all time and eternity, but oh well. i don't think they cared.

really, the whole marriage is kind of weird. my brother has always been an odd man out in our family. very focused on what he wants and often difficult to deal with. we all love him, but there are often abrasive moments between him and each of us. in short... it's been obvious how excited he is to marry into this super chill, super wealthy outdoorsy family and we all kept joking about how happy we are for him that he's found a family he actually likes being in. when we realized we all kind of felt that way it was kind of a relief. i think it's been a really difficult growing time for him and for us, and it's kind of hurt that he so obviously prefers them. but if he is happy and he is making a good step for his life, then that's that. and we were all happy to be there for him. he told me in confidence one time that his bride was livid and losing sleep and worrying that my mom would mess up their wedding (long story....... and a very unfounded fear), and he had told her that he too wished something would happen so the family just wouldn't be able to come to the wedding at all. so you can imagine the tone and how grateful (or not) he seemed to have us there, but maybe some day down the road he will appreciate it, especially when my dad has passed away.

i have to get my wisdom teeth out this summer and i'm pretty much shitting my pants. it'll be fine................ right?

lsat prep is sucking my life away but i wouldn't have it any other way. this is really happening. i can give up a few nights a week and bust my butt for that good score. october seems far away but i know it'll feel like i'm taking the test in no time.

besides l$at cla$$ and wi$dom teeth removal, our $ummer is turning out to be expen$ive. my sister in law just told us a week ago that she's getting married this weekend (yes, two weeks' notice), so dh and i are like, "yeah we're made of money. right? right? totally fine. right?" but i suppose if we're going to have a summer of trips and family this is the summer to do it, what with his student teaching and my disappearance into law school and being poor coming up.

we went to sacrament meeting yesterday. it was the first time i've gone since last summer when we went, i threw up in the middle of the meeting, had a panic attack, and cried for half an hour. so... i was just hoping i could get through it. sacrament meeting was okay, but the bishopric's eyes were def on us. then we went to do our calling and this lady (librarian from a different ward in our building) gave us a passive aggressive but very spirited lecture about how we should be going to class and we shouldn't have temple recommends if we aren't going to class and blah blah blah whatever else HER bishop and OUR stake president had told her. (obviously, as you can tell, she is so righteous. we couldn't figure out why she was acting SO WEIRD to us when she would come into the library and we were there, but she made it clear that it's because she is judging us to kolob and back that we are there in the library instead of in class). so that was... horrible. and we thought we were finally making friends, but i don't think we'll be hanging around her any more.

then after she went off we left and came home and had a major vent session about how horrible it all is. dh says he just feels like it is all crap. like if these social issues are happening and there was true revelation there would be no issue--the church would just receive new revelation. most of my grievances are still social--that, in a nutshell, some people in the church can all do the most terrible things and get away with it because they're "good" people who are just doing "what they think is right." but we both have to get through it, at least for a few more years. we could both lose our jobs if our bishop decided to go up against us (which he has hinted that he would) and i could potentially lose law school and dh could lose the degree he is already almost finished with. so we are scared. but we have to go. somehow we have to get through it.

my LSAT class is going well.

really well.

my LSAT score will make or break me and i figured that i could probably do fine enough and if i didn't then that was that. but no, it has been great. when i took my first ever full practice test, i got a 157, which is right above the 25th percentile for law students admitted this year. granted, i didn't time myself and took a little longer than i normally would have. i just wanted to see if i had a shot. i didn't really know until after i took it that what i actually wanted and needed to know was if i was smart enough to do this. and the answer is a resounding yes. i was elated that night. i haven't felt so "on" in a long time.

more than that, the LSAT class has been a piece of cake. not like i'm-not-learning-anything piece of cake, but like a i-really-really-got-this-whoa-i-really-got-this kind of way. they put the hard stuff up front and during the lessons my teacher is going on about how hard it's supposed to be and that this is the worst of it and please don't drop out and disappear and students are crying quietly into their books all around me (just kidding about the students, except some of them have really been visibly or audibly disturbed). and then i'm there like, what are you talking about this makes perfect sense and is so simple. or, if i doesn't make sense at first, it's usually just the hurdle of understanding what the teacher is trying to say, and then i got it.

i definitely don't think i'm better or smarter than those other students and there's an immediate sense of camaraderie. but i didn't understand just how well my personality and my degree were setting me up for success and i have only been pleasantly surprised. after class three times a week my mind is buzzing. i get home at 9:00p and dive into my studying because I CAN'T HELP MYSELF. it's so exciting and i'm having to force myself to go to bed around midnight.

mostly i go between thinking:

is the LSAT not supposed to be hard?
am i really just this smart?

i've got that sense again like i was made for this. i know that if i believe i can do it, it will happen. and i would never say any of this in person so i guess i will do it here.

so as you treat yo self this friday night, raise a glass to me; i'll be digging through and enjoying my books and practice tests.

in young women when the leaders would bring their babies in and pass them around and everyone would go gaga over holding them, i was definitely the one who in my mind was like, "can we please give the baby back to its mom and focus on the discussion here?"

i did babysit for families in the ward. a lot. there weren't a lot of YW and people were always saying how responsible and grown up i was. there were a lot of families i babysat for. i liked it. it was easy, i was good at it, and it was lucrative. but looking back, what i enjoyed was helping myself to a little of something good in the fridge. i enjoyed looking through their movies and picking out something to watch for when the kids were in bed. i enjoyed getting paid to sit around and watch movies at someone else's house. i knew how to be an authority figure but i honestly never, ever played with the kids. i thought it was really awkward and i knew i was bad at it. at the time i didn't even think about this, and didn't realize it was weird. i did not necessarily enjoy the actual watching and being with the kids the way some other girls would, when they would positively GUSH over them.

i am the oldest of my siblings, and the oldest on one side of my extended family and among the oldest on the other side. so this meant--yep--built in babysitter. and all around my family is a BIG family. growing up i enjoyed, again, not the being with the kids but the respect that came with being seen as responsible to a fault, dependable, and on a some-what grown up level. and i can't remember all the moments that led up to me realizing this, but i realized at some point that having spent all that time watching kids and with kids as a kid myself and then as a teenager, made me feel one thing very definitely: i did my time. while i was in college and i would find myself in family settings again i would always be thinking how much i didn't miss it. i LOVED being in college and being around all people my own age for the first time. i was suddenly aware of this odd feeling i was having, which was, at what point do i get to be an adult and do adult things and not spend time with kids? i chalked it up to being pissy and didn't think more about it.

so for a while after i got married i went through this phase where i thought babysitting my friends and family may have ruined me from having kids because i really, really was ready to just do adult things and finally, permanently, graduate to the adult table.

i went through this phase when i was a junior in high school when i would talk about how excited i was to be a mom. (weirdest socialization to give teenage or younger girls, but okay society.) i would go on and on to my high school boyfriend about it, which we both knew was weird because we also both knew even then that we would not stay together and end up having a family together. (i was also going on and on at this time about how excited i was to be married and finally have sex which was equally awkward because this guy was also not going to be my husband and we both knew it. so, take it for what you will.) around this time we watched a sex ed video in health and in my response paper i wrote all about how glad i was that it focused on families and the ability to have kids and how great that was.

then i went through this phase as like a freshman in college where i was convinced having kids was the worst/best thing because i would be bringing them into a scary, broken world and it is hard to be alive and i would be the cause of their being alive, but this phase was short.

then i got married and almost immediately we realized how terrified we were of having kids and that we were both realizing we didn't want them right away and it became this hilarious joke. then we got comfortable with that and started realizing we might not want them for a long time.

it wasn't until a few months ago when i was listening to this interview with kate kelly (must have been mormon stories, but i just don't remember) when she said that she and neil are childless by choice, and how they realized that neither of them had ever felt very strongly about having kids and they decided to dedicate their lives to other, worthwhile pursuits. before that moment, i had legitimately never fully thought about and understood that you could just choose not to have kids and that was that! there was nothing wrong with you and people felt that way and it was okay.

i once saw an interview with lily allen where she talked about how much she had wanted kids and how much her family meant to her. i've long admired how she talked about her kids privacy, etc., but i loved what she said this time. she talked about how her family wasn't really close-knit growing up and she didn't always know if they would be there for her. but when she sees her kids and her husband, she knows, "these are my people." that was the simplest and most beautiful way i have ever heard someone describe family. like, here is someone who really should have kids and really does a seriously kick ass job at it. and in that moment i also realized that i feel that--ardently--for my own immediate family but have never felt that way about having kids of my own.

i have never talked about this except with my husband and on here. it's a really weird way to feel and a hard decision to make. i have friends who are struggling to have kids. friends who can't wait to have kids. i have friends who are worried they'll never have the opportunity to have kids. i worry about them and think about it all the time, and it gives me a lot of pause and heartache to objectively think of myself sitting here like, "yeah it's just not for me." my mom once started a discussion about birth control with me by saying that she and my dad got pregnant "just from breathing on each other" (thanks mom?)--it was that easy for them. and if i inherited that, then who am i to be the woman that's like, "nah," when others pray and hope and wait and cry?

and now i am getting more sure and also getting ready to go to law school and put in the hours that my first job and that an eventual law career will require and wishing for a more permanent solution, but what if we change our minds? what if my family found out? i don't know if they would ever accept this; how easy would it be to go a permanent route and then cop out of telling our families, like, "oh, we just can't have kids"? how many of their private prayers and fasts and hopes would be wasted? what a lie to live. it would be so easy. and so bad. and is this in general a decision i would ever be at peace--with myself and with others--about?