I haven't written in a few days. I have been overwhelmed with school work and getting back into the MCAT groove.
I also started CrossFit. O-M-G. It is so awesome - and so unbelievably hard. And it is hard because I am still quite out of shape from the pregnancy, but also because I have this stupid nerve damage in my joints and it is severely limiting. So, I do what I can. I love it though. But it is so hard and so painful I want to cry. And it, literally, kicks my ass. And somehow I think it is great. If you have never heard of it before - look it up. There is no description I can say that will justify its intensity.

Tomorrow is October 1. Five months ago Mugsy died in my arms. I miss my moogey. And I so dearly miss my Huskey, too. I was just thinking about him. And that night in December.

And I still can't shake the fact that it will be almost 1 year for Graciela. It just can't be. Time has stood still for me. I cannot say that enough...if someone told me it was March I would believe it. I miss my baby. Everything is so hard. But one of the hardest things is leaving class, walking out to my car, knowing that I should be going home to cuddle my baby, and rock her and tell her stories and play with her.

But I can't do any of that. That emptiness  - and the longing - kills me. Everytime I leave school I think about that very thought...how I should be going home to her, and she is not there.

This Sunday Roberto and I will be attending the Hygeia Foundation's Walk to Remember. I am very much looking forward to it. I guess I could almost say I am "excited" - though, it is odd to be excited for such a thing I guess. I will be presenting a poem at the gathering, too.

We bought this beautiful Uppa Baby Stroller last year in Maya Yellow - special order - top of the line...I think about the stroller all the time. How it is in the basement, wrapped in a black trashbag...sitting there. Collecting dust instead of memories.

This month is my 2 year wedding anniversary. I love my husband. It will be very bittersweet.

I am going to attempt to do some homework now. My joints are hurting and I am tired - but restless instead of sleepy.

I am trying not to think about certain things...but there are there. They are always there. I can feel the blackness just over me.



"Daddy please don't look so sad, momma please don't cry.
Cause I'm in the arms of Jesus, and he sings me lullabies.
please try not to question God, don't think he is unkind.
Don't think he sent me to you and then changed his mind.
You see I'm a special child, I am needed up above.
I'm the special gift you gave Him, a product of your love.
I'll always be there with you, so watch the sky at night.
Look for the brightest star and know that's my halo's brilliant light.
You'll see me in the morning frost that mists your window pane.
That's me in the summer showers, I'll be dancing in the rain.
When you feel a gentle breeze from a gentle wind that blows.
Know that it's me planting a kiss upon your nose.
When you see a child playing and your heart feels a tug,
Don't be sad mommy, that's just me giving your heart a hug.
So daddy don't looks so sad and momma please don't cry.
I'm in the arms of Jesus and he sings me lullabies!"

In honor of my beautiful daughter, Graciela AnnaMaria Arango, born still on December 31, 2010.

Summary of my loss:

The overall theme in my experience is that my voice was not heard. And because of that fact, and only because of that fact, my daughter is dead.

A little bit about me:

I like to go about things in life, both professionally and personally, in the most correct way possible. I am educated, ethical and understanding and will persevere over any challenge presented before me. I take pride on being well informed before I make decisions, exploring every circumstance of my choice. Overall, I really do live my life in trying to do what is best. I am passionate about science and medicine. I always have been, and possess a solid foundation in not only the biological and physical sciences, but in certain areas of medicine as well. I utilized that knowledge base throughout my entire pregnancy and whatever I didn’t know, I quickly learned. I am currently getting my Master's in Public Health and I hope to become a physician someday. I love animals and I like to support causes that promote animal awareness and safety.

My husband and I were very excited that our due date was in December for several reasons. One main reason is because of the holidays, and we were so happy that we would have our Christmas tree up, and family members would be around to see our baby, and then it would be time to celebrate New Year’s as well. But, also, the month of December has been a time of great personal tragedy for me as I have lost several close family members during that month over the past years, and it has always been a hard time for me. My birthday is also in December, and that day has also been one of immense sadness, because my grandfather past away in the early morning hours of December 30^th and I was very close with him. Graciela was to be our new beginning, and a way for me to put all of the tragedies that have occurred during that month, and look forward to celebrating a new baby, a new year and a new life.

Pregnancy:

Throughout my pregnancy my bloodwork tests came back normal, my blood pressure was very good, and there were no signs of pre-eclampsia, gestational diabetes, or any of the more common healthcare concerns for pregnant women. On paper, I probably appeared to be the “text-book” patient. However, it only took one look at me for anyone to realize that my pregnancy was anything but normal.

In the beginning of my second trimester I began to wake up around 3:00 am every night, and could not fall back asleep at all. This quickly turned into waking up at 1:00 am, and then waking up at midnight. And each time I woke up, I could not fall back asleep. I was wide-awake, actually. Finally, nighttime turned into an hour of sleep, maybe two hours if I was lucky. I would lay there wide-awake all night for hours, trying every psychological method to help me fall asleep. Nothing worked. The lack of sleep continued for the remainder of my pregnancy. I wasn’t able to nap during the day either. I did my best to stay away from stimulants. I mention this lack of sleep because it had a significant impact on both my emotional and physical well-being. I was always drained and exhausted, but couldn’t rest, and this only added to my anguish.

Also during my second trimester, I began to retain a lot of fluid. This was not your ordinary pregnancy-related edema. This was very different. Simultaneously, my joints began to hurt. At first, it was only my ankles and knees, but over time the joint pain began to include my wrists, elbows, and sometimes my shoulders. And I don’t mean a little dull ache; I mean excruciating, unbearable, needle-like pain. The joint pain and swelling quickly progressed, and often felt a burning sensation in my joints. In fact, the swelling was so bad and so severe, that every single one of my physicians said they had never seen anything like it before. I had severe pitting edema, and the skin covering my ankles, shins and knees was very, very tight and was hot to the touch. There came a point where getting dressed was unimaginably painful. Sliding my pants over my lower extremities, especially my knees, felt like I was putting on a pair of pants made entirely out of razor blades. Towards the end of the third trimester, I could barely walk. By this point I had to quit my job, and stayed home all day. I could barely move. Going to my doctor’s appointments was a big challenge. I couldn’t lift my legs to even put them in the car – my husband would have to pick up each leg and put them in. I could not get up out of a chair on my own. I would have to swing my arms around my husband’s neck, and he would lift me up. There were points I would have to use a wheelchair. When I did walk, it was so painful and I could only take about 4-inch steps. The medical staff at my OB/GYN office would even comment that it was painful for them to watch me walk. The remaining months of my pregnancy allowed for even more swelling of my joints, followed by more pain and continued lack of sleep. Again, every physician I saw had stated they never saw a patient present with such pathological swelling as I did.

Fast forward to the week of my due date, December 24, 2010. My physician had said that due to the severe edema, extreme pain and Lyme Disease diagnosis, that if I did not go into labor on my own, I would begin the induction process on December 27^th. As expected, nothing occurred on the 24^th, and on the 27^th, however, there was a snowstorm. I went into the hospital at around noon and was examined by a physician and a nurse practioner. I can clearly remember the hospital staff being very short and rude with me. I could not move on my own to be examined – I needed assistance. My husband stepped out to use the restroom and I told her that I couldn’t move my legs on my own. The nurse thought I was being difficult and uncooperative. I pleaded with the physician to go easy with me during the exam, because I had such pain throughout my entire body and I was visibly in tears. Let me state here that the exam hurt like hell, no prior exam hurt that bad, and I was yelling in pain and at this point I was crying. I expressed my concern that I didn’t think it should be that painful, and maybe there was something wrong. My concern was brushed off with some mumbled comment. There was no compassion, and since was the first time I was at the hospital, and my first time being pregnant, I was very nervous that my delivery was going to be one of great pain and grief from the hospital staff. I thought I was going to stay for the induction as scheduled but was sent home because the hospital was “too busy” to take me on that day. I went to see my physician on the 28^th and was informed that I could not go for the induction that day, either. It was re-scheduled yet again for the 29^th, my birthday.

I was informed that I would receive a phone call to go into the hospital at around 3:00 pm on the 29^th. I never received any phone call, and had a strong suspicion that I wouldn’t, due to the treatment I had received thus far from the hospital as no one seemed to be listening to anything I was saying. At around 5:15 pm I began bleeding significantly, and was experiencing what I thought might be contractions, but wasn’t sure because, as I described it to the medical staff, it was crampy and I recall a burning sensation in my abdomen. I called my doctor’s office and left a message with the answering service for a call back and briefly described my situation. The first one call I received was from a staff nurse, not a physician, telling me that the physician “says the blood is from your exam yesterday”. How would he know what the blood is from? I never described it to him and he has never personally examined me before. I was shocked with such a quick “diagnosis” of what the bleeding was from and felt as if I was being dismissed yet again. Being a high-risk patient one would think he would want more information. He made this assumption without me informing him of how much blood, how long it was occurring, or how I felt in general. I instructed the nurse that it was substantial and went into clear detail. I also told her I was not feeling good, and I I wanted to come in so I could be examined. She then told me she would have to tell the physician first. She called me back again a little while later. She said that if I truly “felt it was not from the exam on the previous day”, that I could come in. The tone of her voice on the phone left something to be desired. “Could” come in? Do I need permission? Why was there no concern? I had an induction order scheduled anyway – did they not know about that? Again, it brought me right back to the way I felt when I was treated on the 27^th at the hospital.

When I finally made it to the hospital, I was shaking violently, was nauseas, extremely nervous, and was crying. I felt grey and “clammy”, and I remember feeling like I did not want to fight anymore for people to listen to me. I remember almost vomiting upon arrival to the hospital and I was taken to Labor and Delivery floor again by a wheel chair. When I finally saw the doctor, I began to tell him a little bit about my health history. I began to tell him that I was diagnosed with Lyme Disease but was rudely interrupted by him stating curtly “I know all of that. I am aware of your situation.” I went on to say that I had an induction order scheduled for that night and that no one called me to come in. He then said that I was going to be sent home because the floor was “too busy”, and the nurse in the background was shaking her head left and right, signaling no, I could not stay. My husband begged and pleaded for me to stay, stating that I was not feeling well, I was high-risk, I couldn’t walk, I was bleeding, I had burning in my stomach, and had Lyme Disease. They kept shaking their heads and saying “no, we are too busy”, and I heard “she is not dilated enough.” Then the physician said to me, “I also do not see any of that blood that you are talking about.” I reassured him I was bleeding at home, and was bleeding when I got to the exam room. In fact, at that moment, I took the sheet that was covering my legs, cleaned myself in front him, and sure enough, there was blood on the sheet. I held up the stained sheet at that very moment and said to him, “No blood? What do you call that?” He did not respond. I was then rushed out of there saying that it looked like I was in early labor and if so, I would most likely be back by 3:00 am at the hospital anyway. He also said he would not start the induction because natural labor is best. I was forced to leave, with a feeling that something was not right.

You all know the feeling I am speaking of…like walking down a dark, deserted alleyway and you just know in your gut you should not be there…that was the feeling I had as I left. I knew that something felt wrong by leaving, but I was forced to go home. I was not given any option to stay after my begging and crying.

Before I left, the physician said for me to call the floor at 6:30 am the next day should I not go into labor before then, and gave me the name of the charge nurse of who I should ask for. I begged one more time to stay, but “no, we are too busy” was all I heard.

I went home, scared and nervous. Those crampy contractions stopped around 11 pm. I stayed up most of the night, falling asleep around 4:30 am. I can now recall that I felt no movement during those early morning hours of the 30^th.

I called at 6:30 am on the dot the very next morning and spoke with the nurse as instructed. She informed me that she was too busy and that her shift was ending in an hour, and that the next charge nurse would call me back. I told her that no one will call me back, that everyone keeps dismissing me and I was supposed to be induced on the 27^th. She reassured me that she would have the next charge nurse call me by 8:30 am. Well, no one called. In fact, I called back at 9:00 am and spoke with the new charge nurse. She told me that she didn’t even think I could come in today because they were too busy!

Let me express here that at this point I had enough of this treatment. My husband called my physician and explained what was going on. However, while he was on the phone I began to experience significant contractions, and was informed from the physician to time them for an hour and a half, and then to go to the hospital.

When I arrived to the hospital I was put in a wheel chair because I could not walk. I was brought upstairs and the oh-so-friendly nurses told me to change into a gown. Then an ultrasound tech came in, and using the Doppler, she could not find Graciela’s heart beat. I asked her to get a doctor, as after 30 seconds I seemed to have known that Graciela was gone. It wasn’t until about 8 minutes later she finally got the nurse, who after another 5 minutes finally got a team of doctors who then confirmed via ultra sound that my daughter was gone. I was requesting a physician to come in, and did not get one until about 15 minutes after I asked. Additionally, there was a point where I was left all alone in the room. My husband stepped out to speak with his parents in the waiting room, and then all of the sudden, people started to leave. I remember looking up, and realizing I was alone. I was screaming from the room for someone to be with me. I was alone with my dead baby. No one even thought to stay with me.

After making the decision to deliver naturally, I asked for pain medication. For whatever reason, it took over an hour to get me the pain medication from the time I asked to the time it was administered. The pain was unbearable and there was no reason for any delay.

I was sent home with a memory box of my daughter, and in that box a DVD of a few pictures of my daughter. When I found a little strength to view the photo’s of my daughter, you can imagine the shock I experienced when the images of a deceased baby came up on my computer screen – however, that was not my baby. The hospital sent me home with the wrong DVD, and I received pictures of the wrong baby.

I learned after the tragedy that my vital signs, as well as my daughter’s, apparently presented normal on the evening of the 29^th and that, on paper, everything seemed fine. However, it only took one look at me to see that I physically was not well: so edematous, in so much pain, bleeding, shaking and crying. That fact, in and of itself, should have been a red flag to the medical personnel that evening, but my pleas fell on deaf ears, and because of that fact, and that fact alone, my daughter is dead.

Some physicians have said that the death of my daughter may have been the result of a cord accident, some others have said that they have no clue as to why Graciela died, and that, and I quote, “we (doctors) use the term cord accident when we have no idea what happened”. Although, because the first autopsy proved to be done erroneously along with a wrong cause of death of my daughter, the second pathologist had to base his findings from the first results, and could make only assumptions at best. I have been told repeatedly by my own personal physicians that had I been allowed to stay that evening, and not sent home, that I would have a living daughter, and that if they were on staff, they would not have sent me home.

I had heard of these great stories of how Yale was one of the best places to deliver a baby, that the nurses on the Labor and Delivery floor were the best, so compassionate, and very experienced. Yet, I was being treated so differently and I couldn’t understand why. The staff was dismissive and short, and the way they treated me left me feeling I as if I was a second-class citizen, as if I didn’t know any better. I honestly could not believe it. In retrospect, I am so glad my husband was there with me at every instance so at least I had a “witness” as to how I was being treated, otherwise, I am quite confident my emotions may be summarized that perhaps I was too emotional and over-reacting being so close to delivery. I can tell you that I remember every detail that occurred, every name of doctor and nurse, and I remember what was being said to me and what my replies were. I even remember what other physicians, who were attending to other patients, were saying, and recall what their conditions were as well. I state all of this because I was completely coherent and competent of what was going on that fateful evening, and I was treated as if I was a simpleton.

Still, to this very moment in time, I cannot believe this has happened to me. I tried everything I could to tell the medical staff that evening that I was not feeling well, and begged to stay. Now, my daughter is dead. She was taken from me.

I have experienced a lot of guilt, sadness, anger, hurt, and depression, and I obviously will never be the same person again. It seems as if the medical staff that attended to me during that time have since gone on with their lives, as nothing ever happened. I never received a personal apology from any of them, yet I am the one who paid the ultimate price for their complacency.

The flashbacks and nightmares truly are the worst -- and no one else experiences them but me. Once again – the theme of being alone has again resurfaced.

My hope is that this information could be used as, at the very least, a learning experience to physicians, residents, nurses, and all medical staff, in that they way we are approaching patients, and medicine in general, needs to be re-examined and restructured accordingly. Health education needs immediate reform on the most basic levels of patient care and bedside manner. We are going about treating patients the wrong way – and it is costing lives. It is a sad fact, I believe, but if my husband was a doctor at Yale that night, or if my sister was a nurse there – I would never have been sent home, I would have received the appropriate care, and my daughter would be alive. I clearly did not have any connections…

I have never felt so alone in my life. And the death of my daughter, as the direct result of someone else’s actions, is a huge cross to bear.

A part of me died that day along with my daughter. And the rest of my life has permanently changed. I will never be the same again.

The few, brief times that I can seem to laugh are quickly taken away by the reality that my daughter is gone.

I miss my daughter very, very much.

The pain, truly, is undescribable.

I have the most amazing husband.

Through the darkest of my days, you are my beacon of light.
Through my most sorrowful moments, you bring me comfort.
When there is absolutely no one on this earth who could even remotely understand my pain, I know I have you to help me pull through.
When no one can hear my cries, the thought of you dries my tears.
When I have completely given up on myself in everything that I do, you look deep into my eyes and tell me how much you believe in me.
When all of the superficial things in life get me down, your calming voice reminds me what is important.
And when I feel that I cannot move forward any more, I remember that no one has a love like ours.
Thank you, my husband, for being my best friend, my life, and my love.

xo
"I W"

Friday's really don't mean much, but I guess they are good...

So, off to a late start this morning. I hate late starts. I tend to focus more on trying to catch up than just doing what I need to do. Ugh.

I have MCAT studying to do. And quite a bit of it. I actually miss studying for the MCAT as much as I used to over the summer. With school and everything going on, studying for this test has definitely decreased. But, it is about balance, right? And I keep telling myself that it is ok - because it is not like I have to learn all the material from scratch - it is refreshing what I know and doing practice problems. I have the BEST tutor and I am Blessed to have him. I don't know how I will do on the test when I take it in January - but one thing is for sure - I will have done my absolute very best. I truly believe I have the skills, will, brains, and determination to become a doctor. I hope that God has it in His will to allow me to achieve my dream and to be able to serve others in their healing, making accurate diagnoses, having the best bedside manner to my patients, and to be an inspiration to others.

I woke up with so much nervousness this morning. It is the kind of nervous that you can't shake off. It is similar to sitting on a rollercoaster waiting for it to take that 90 degree plunge and your stomach is in your chest.

I do not think about being nervous. I mean, I do not wake up and immediately start focusing on my recent past or my current situation...it comes over me. And that is a very odd feeling. What my mind thinks about ("ok, you have to study for MCAT, tutor session is tomorrow, you have 2 papers and a presentation due next week, call the groomer for the dog etc etc), my body is just doing it's own thing  - a nervous stomach, constant worry, feeling scared, feeling like I did something wrong - and more worry. It is horrible. Worrying and stress is SO bad for the body - over time, the diseases your body can develop can be life threatening. I also feel that the more you think about being scared or nervous or a stomach ache that I think over time it can mess with the chemical balances in your body resulting in a imbalance of serotonin etc - which is a key neurotransmitter for that feeling of well-being. Additionally, if you don't fight at every instance of the oncoming of those feelings, I also think one's body can become conditioned to feel that way on a regular basis. If I were to feel scared and nervous on mornings that are cloudy and rainy, well I believe that if I do not fight that feeling off, then over a long period of time, I feel that every time I wake up to a cloudy, rainy day, I will feel scared and nervous  - regardless of what I am doing or how happy I am - because I have conditioned my body to be that way. So, that is why I fight. I fight because I have people who depend on me, because I things I want to accomplish, because I refuse to be a product of constant fear, and I fight because I have a daughter that I would do anything for. 

It is not easy - in fact it is much easier said than done. But I try. Like my dear Professor, Dr. Perlin, said to me: never, ever, ever give up.

As I sit here writing this, I feel like I have a sour grapefruit in my stomach. I stare at Graciela's pictures that are in my room...and I look at my sleeping beauty, and I say to myself that I am doing all of this for her. That I can do this for her. I can move on for her. One of the facilitators at Hygeia once said at a meeting "Don't die with her...Live for her" - a phrase I have repeated to myself over and over again - even during the darkest of times. Whatever these negative things are that plague me - the nerves, feeling scared, stomach aches, hesitation, fear....I like to think of them as my competition...that I have to overcome and beat them like I am running a race - so that I can win. So, that is what I try and do. I envision I am running on a track (I wish I could run with this stupid ankle of mine, but I digress...) and on this track to my right is fear, and to my left is evil, and boy does it make me want to run like heck to leave them behind and come out on top.

And I hope I will.

Sleep...Finally

I finally slept through the night last night. It is the first time in a while. I felt myself starting to wake up at around 11-ish - but I just kept my eyes closed hoping I would fall back asleep. It is amazing how different one feels when you sleep through most of the night.

I still have so much homework to do. And I have to finish it before class this afternoon. ugh.

I cried so much last night. I was home alone and I just cried and cried. The whole morning of Dec. 30th kept playing in my head like a re-run of a movie. I have so much anger still. My daughter is dead because of those people - and someone needs to be held accountable for their actions. I can't take the fact that they did what they did and there has been no consequences for them. It is not right on so many different levels. How can they live with themselves? How can they work in that department every day after my loss - KNOWING that their actions took the life of my child...and destroyed mine? Sad thing is - they don't think about it. They just kept going on with their lives and I cannot understand it. I have those nurses names and faces burned into my head - along with hopes of seeing them again someday. Sending me home because they were "too busy". I was begging  - crying - pleading with them. I kept telling them something did not feel right. And something wasn't right. And Graciela died. And a part of me did, too.

I cannot express what it is like to live life now. All of the constant memories, constant triggers, constant pain. I also find myself thinking in terms of how I used to be. For example, I would think "before I lost Graciela, did I enjoy going out for long rides?" - it is like, you don't remember who you were, what you liked and disliked, or even what made you happy.

I made a harsh realization the other day. I was grocery shopping at Whole Foods. One of the few times I have gone out by myself. I should have been doing homework because now I am so backlogged, but I couldn't look at it. I had to get out. Anyway, while I was shopping, I wasn't satisfied with anything I put in my cart. I kept thinking "no, this isn't what I need", "no, this isn't what I am looking for"...I saw lots of people with stuff in their cart, and I couldn't seem to choose what to put in mine. I would put in a box of cereal, then take it out and put it back. I would scope out other people's cart to see what they were getting. But I felt like I was never satisfied. I saw fruit, it looked really good, but that wasn't what I wanted either. I spent 15 minutes staring at Bok Choy deciding if I wanted it or not. I mean, really? It wasn't what I was looking for. Then, it hit me. It hit me so hard I almost started crying right in the aisle of the store.
I was looking for Graciela. I wanted my baby.
That is why nothing felt right...I discovered I wasn't looking for what groceries to buy. I was searching for her.
Unless you have lost a child, you truly cannot know this feeling. It is very weird. I felt like I had to find her, so I could save her. It was very sad. Extremely sad. And it was compounded by the fact that there were families and babies and moms and kids and pregnant women everywhere. How could the universe be any more cruel? Oh, and the sushi guy had said to me once before as I was browsing through his creations..."oh do you like sushi?", "well, i just eat the veggie sushi. My husband likes sushi a lot and I was looking for him." Sushi guy: "oh that's nice...my wife, she loves sushi! But, she can't eat it right now. She is eight months pregnant."
Nice.
Glad I had to know that fact. And stuff like this happens all the time with me. All the time. Ask my husband, he has seen it happen to me...and you wonder what are the odds of me being in that particular moment at that particular time. Cruel.
I think one of the worst feelings though is feeling like an empty shell. Like I will never be whole again. Something was ripped away from me in the worst ways of all. And it is a constant search to fill that void - that emptiness. And the sad part is it will never be filled entirely again. It is the truth.
My heart physically hurts - my whole body hurts over the loss of my daughter. One of the doctors I see, whom I respect greatly, said that he thinks my body is mourning the loss of my daughter separately from how my mind is grieving, and that is one of the reasons I have such unbearable pain in my joints. The other reason, is from nerve damage from all of the fluid I retained while pregnant. Almost 60lbs of fluid.
I miss you Graciela. My arms ache to hold you. I want kiss your cheeks, and cuddle with you. I want to put little bows in your hair.
I never held my daughter's hand, or even got to see her little feet. I was in so much pain I couldn't think.
So, when your own kid makes you nuts from whining, or someone ticks you off because of their driving, or your hair isn't behaving today, or your co-worker is starting gossip again...

Remember - it could be worse.

You could be me.

Oh and by the way, here is a link to some beautiful prayers to Saint Anne:

http://www.2heartsnetwork.org/Anne.htm


She is a wonderful, amazing, and loving Saint who has so many beautiful gifts and miracles to offer. And while I am usually very private about religion, praying to Saint Anne bestows on one a very calm and peaceful feeling. A feeling that things will truly be ok.

So, I thought I would share the link, just in case anyone would like to read it.

<3

I am so glad my mother had a wonderful birthday. There were bumps at the beginning of the day - of course - , but our time together was perfect and that is all the matters to me.

I am missing my baby so bad today. So much is running through my mind. It is on warp speed.

I was at work for a little bit today and I went to get a cup of water from the water cooler and after drinking 3 big gulps I realized there were gray bugs all throughout my cup. I drank gray bugs. I was not happy. Thank goodness I had a couple of people there who were able to help me find out more about the bugs. Apparently I should be ok...

I am very sad today. So much going on. I have realized that this blog is good and well not so good. I truly cannot write down everything in my mind as much as I would like to - I am sure certain people would read it and that may not be very good...

I have learned a lot of these past few days. I know those of who I can trust - and those who I can't. It is sad on so many different levels. Again, I can't write much more than that.

Sort of a cryptic post I would imagine. I am very very tired. I went to bed at around 5 am this morning. I cannot sleep.

I saw a beautiful, but dead, swan on the way home from work today on the side of the road. It was a beautiful swan, and I felt bad.

Off to do lots of homework.

All I can say is that no matter what anyone thinks of me in their pathetic twisted minds, I can look at myself in the mirror everyday and know I do not manipulate people and I do not lie about others - which is clearly a lot more than I can unfortunately say for some. Karma always comes.

Peace out, cub scout!

It has been a very stressful few days. So much going on - and I am just trying to focus on the positives. I worry a lot now - I mean - I always was a worrier - but now I am like on overdrive with worrying. I am really trying to do things right and recently I had to let something go because I was overwhelmed. Very overwhelmed. I originally took on a particular project with good intentions - but I can't complete it now and had to let it go. I feel so bad. It does not make me look good that I had to let it go - but I physically (and mentally) cannot do everything with the constraints that are on me. I am committed to something that I have to finish in a much sooner time frame that I was originally planning on. So, something had to give in order to fulfill that task. Hopefully it was the right decision and hopefully there won't be any repercussions. It is what it is - I have to finish one thing now, and I cannot begin another until that is complete. You can tell that this is really bothering me and I need a lot of justification that I did the right thing. I know I did the right thing - but it is not like me to start something and not finish. So it really bothers me. I hope certain people can see that my hands are tied here and not hold it against me because I would really like to go back to it once things settle on my end. See, I told you I worry too much.

I have class tonight. UGH! I hate going away from home "late" at night - to me 7:30 - 9:30 at night is considered late. When it is dark out I just want to be home. And I my class was originally at 5:30 but it was decided to change the entire class time without asking the students what is best for them as far as rescheduling - I mean...why would they ask us - we are only paying for the course...

I miss spending time with my husband. I hardly ever see him anymore and I miss him so much.

This Sunday is my mom's birthday. I want it to be as special as it can. It will be so hard for me - Graciela should be sitting on her Nana's lap as we sing Happy Birthday. And that won't happen. My baby... :(

Anyway, thought about my daughter a lot today. I miss her so much. I would love to just hug her right now. I always wonder what she would look like. I have seen these ads Facebook that allow you to upload a picture of yourself and of your husband to see what your children would look like. I cannot tell you how many times I have come close to doing that. Just to see what Graciela might look like. So far, I can't bring myself to do it.

A lot of weird stuff happened today at work...I don't understand people - I try to, but it doesn't help.

It is hard to think of life as normal now. It is sort of like ignoring the elephant in the middle of the room. It is not normal. It will never be normal. I see people pushing their babies in strollers. I see a lot of pregnant women. I long to hold my baby everyday. To rock her in her glider. To read to her. To sing her to sleep. There was absolutely nothing wrong with her. And this didn't "happen for a reason". It happened because people did not do what they were supposed to do.

I really miss my daughter. And I really can't stand doctors right now. I am not the kind of person to generalize people as I hate when it is done to me - but just so many errors in everything.

And it cost a life - and it ruined my own.

I have been meaning to start a blog for quite sometime now. I honestly do not think anyone will read it - but perhaps no one needs to. Maybe for the simple fact that it exists is ok.

My baby, Graciela AnnaMaria Arango, died inside of me in the early morning hours of December 30, 2010. Hence the name of this blog. She died because medical "professionals" did not do their job.

Life has completely changed for me. And my hope is that this blog will facilitate in me finding an outlet for my anger, my rants, my complaints, as well as posting new joys, hopes and aspirations. I also hope that if someone reads my blog, perhaps they can find understanding and meaning to things that relate to them.

I have no mind-blowing philosophies on life. No amazing phrase that can make life all better. What I have is heartache, and anger, and a lot of student loans...but I also have love and hope. And for that, I am grateful.

As I write this, I look down at my hands from time to time. Graciela had my hands. She also had my eyes and long eyelashes. The rest of her belonged to her handsome daddy. Her daddy - a man I am so proud to call my husband.

I have obscenely high standards in life - anyone who knows me well can vouch for that. However, I am fair, and I would never expect anyone to do anything that I myself have not done. With that being said, though, I have been known to move mountains...

I believe that we, as all living creatures, deserve the right to breathe, to live, to love and to be free. Free from torture, pain, slaughter, abuse, and enslavement. I also believe in intellectual freedom - which, in my definition, I can strongly believe in something, and perhaps my neighbor believes in the total opposite, but I can still be friends with that person because I believe our minds have the right to choose. I think if people could adapt, to some extent, this way of thinking, there would be a lot less hatred in this world. Sounds trite - but does not mean it isn't true.

I am currently very overwhelmed. I hope that in writing my thoughts, they could perhaps sort out on their own - or at least give me the opportunity to see as clear as I possibly can.

I should be doing homework. I have so much of it. In a way I wish I wasn't going to a state school for my masters - and there is a lot of reasons why I say that. More on that another time.

Right now I am thinking that it is getting late and I am hungry but know I should not eat. I didn't eat that much today as my lunch got locked in the room that has the refrigerator. Fun times.

I have a pet peeve though - hypocrites. I work near a woman at this very new part time position I have just taken on - who is a fairly "important" person there. She has published research on gender inequalities, and the perception of women in the workplace in regards to anger management. Yet this woman will not even dare to acknowledge my existence as she walking by me a dozen times, simply because I am a lowly "temp". No one on this planet has experienced the pain and suffering I have endured. And not once have I walked around feeling entitled to an easier life because of my tragedies. But something about this woman irks me. So much so that I am writing about her. I am presuming she is a few years older than me - and I hope I have the opportunity to illustrate to her, in ways she would only understand, that, as one of my friends likes to say, while it is nice to be important, it is also important to be nice.

Anyway, I think I will end here. I hope I sleep tonight. I have not slept and I go on for 13 to 15 hour days every day easy. I do now know what I run on. I have a hard time eating, and a hard time sleeping. Maybe it is nervous energy. Maybe I run on worrying - that would make sense.

So, to end here, my prayers for tonight, in brief, is that all living creatures have someplace safe and warm to sleep tonight, and that for tomorrow, peace and justice grow perpetually stronger.

~J