Okay, so I’ve been toiling with this for days.

Things have been hellish for me, for weeks. Since the miscarriage, life has been a constant upheaval. For those who don’t know, my grandma died. The day after her 88th birthday.  My heart in broken about this, on so many levels. But even beyond that, I have been ravaged by the events that took place while we were mourning her passing. But a few events happened even BEFORE that.

As happens all too often lately, I’ve not allowed myself to write, which is exactly why I end up in this place, constipated(metaphorically) hurting and raw to the point that I’m like a cornered animal who becomes a danger to herself and others.  I flipped out in walmart yesterday, (not one of my finer moments must I say) and then at home, I yelled at my precious. (shitty parenting moment).  But because I’m self aware, I was able to see how insane I’ve become and that this is not me. I’m not that person who acts like an ass because she’s in so much pain emotionally. I mean, obviously, that’s what I’ve BECOME, but I know, I need to make a different choice.

So here I go. (enough blathering.)

Knowing that I can never bare a child again, rips  my heart out to the point that I lose consciousness. I LOVED being pregnant, and giving birth, it was one of the happiest times of my life.  Not being able to bring another sacred life into this world, feels truly devastating. I’m trying to work through the emotions of all that. Metaphysically, I totally get it, but my head and my heart dont seem to be on speaking terms these days.  And I just want to cry over it, sit down and ball my eyes out until I can move whatever this lump is, out. But I don;t have time to take to my bed and mourn it completely as I want to. I have a precious to care for, and I don’t want her to just see me crumble over this. I can’t.

I was going to say, I want her to see a healthy reaction for dealing with emotions, but as I was typing it, i realized, I don’t think I’m doing a good job of that, in these moments. We do talk about the baby, where he/she is, etc. she’s not upset over it, she gets it.  But my bottom line, the one that is keeping this pain fresh for me is this. I am highly suspicious  that part of the reason I’ve had so much trouble with pregnancies, is due to the extensive abuse. Which, absolutely makes me want to rage at him/them.  Unreasonable or not, I want yell profanities at the top of my lungs and bring serious bodily harm to them. I have busted my ass to be a good person, a warm loving person who does not go around hurting others. and this is what I get? I move beyond the abuse, become a good contributing member of society, and I still lose out on one of the most incredible gifts a woman is “granted” all because of someone else’s selfish actions?

It’s total bullshit.

So then, this other event happened and I will come back to it, because I’m soo tired to even talk about it right now. But here’s the jist of it. I allowed myself to be vulnerable with my sister,(my dichotomy twin) and she proceeded to shit all over me. Cutting me down, saying that I pass up too many opportunities and that I’m living in a fantasy world.
So I realized that what I was looking for from her, was support, but she did what she always does and (the rest of my adopted family) judge me and invalidate me.  And in that moment I realized, she, and my adopted family (sans my stepdad) are exactly why I don’t allow myself to be vulnerable to others. They so expertly taught me NOT to be vulnerable because every time i am, I get shit on, judged and made fun of.

Then, Grandma gets sicker and sicker. I want to go but my adopted mom and step-dad said that I should probably not come because she is out of it. I don’t care about this part, because I know she’d know I was there. I could talk to her. all of a sudden, as my adopted mom is telling me of the condition my grandma is in, I felt immediately like i did when Tuwin (auntie) was dying from cancer.  and I immediately fused the two and my relationships with them individually, and how similar they were.  I knew my grandma really loved me and we had a special relationship; which is why I wanted to be there so badly. But my parents were right in the fact that I d k if i wanted to see her that weak and have that image of her in my mind as my last one. (or Cunksi’s last one either).  I was with Tuwin to the end and that is still something that is hard to shake out of my mind, as it was not pretty.

But I worried that grandma was waiting for me to come. She had asked “when are the girls coming home?” on Monday. She died on a Sunday  I worried that she was waiting for me. Now I’ll not know. and I don’t want her to worry that I didn’t love her enough to come see her. I HATE feeling like that.. stuck and not knowing what to do. HATE IT.

Okay, I have to come back to this, because there is a lot more to say, but I need a break.

I’m going to start posting vlogs..video entries, what do you want to hear from me? If I don’t get any responses, I will pick the topics and go from there.

All this time later, my stomach has not returned to its normal size, as of yet.  That is hard, and sad, and a rotten reminder that shakes the fragile wisps of happiness that I’m working on re-gaining.

Three babies I’ve lost. three babies!!!  When I knew this one was not going to be staying, I realized,  I love too soon, I love too hard and I love too immensely.  It makes the losing even harder. The first miscarriage and this one, were the hardest..becuase I’d already bonded with the baby, I’d talked to them, I’d done all these little ritualistic things (dumb dumb dumb, I know.) And with this one, mihigna ki and I BOTH knew the day that the soul left the body, which was heartbreaking. HEARTBREAKING.   To KNOW that your baby is there, and then, not there anymore.

So,I did what I always do, make art. My tool of choice was my camera. I took photos of my body, and me in general; because you can tell  a lot by looking at someone, if you TRULY look.

I’m also at this place where I can just randomly start crying. I could be laughing my head off, and suddenly I’m just crying.  A bit like a crazy woman.

Another lesson from all this is seeing how I cope, or fail to cope, with huge overwhleming emotions.  My first response to tragedy is to disconnect my emotions/body from my mind. (this comes from the abuse I know it does. It’s what I did then.) I get all in my head and tell myself immediately the metaphysical, cerebral reasons for the event happening.  Sort of my own “God’s plan” talk w/o all the dogma.

By doing that  I can actually put one foot in front of the other again. I can joke and laugh and act like it’s all going to be okay. And i fool everyone around me. and sometimes, even myself.  that was the case the night the operation was over.  Like i said, it was dark, I was  surrounded by the people who love me the most, it was quiet. and it just slammed into me. The vastness of what truly had occured.  It was like a mind car wreck pile up. First, seeing myself in the doctors office, hearing her words, “miscarriage”, then seeing myself laughing my fool head off for days, then seeing myself at the hospital being prepared for surgery  hearing the voices of the nurses saying, “I’m so sorry.” and feeling their gentle touches of  my arm or shoulder,(that I had shut off at the time) seeing the sorrow in their eyes.  So it all hit me, as I felt the emptiness of my stomach, and realized I would never again, carry a child, grow a beautiful sacred being in my belly, birth a beautiful sacred soul.

It was just too much. I lost it, and the sorrow burst forth, and just poured out of me like water. I could do nothing to stop it or alter it.

I’ve been distracted now and feel extremely uncomfortable. I’ve lost my thread for this post. I’m going to go. But I’m going to post some of the photos I took.

I titled this snapshots of a miscarriage because that is also what I named the photos. As I’m walking through this, sorting it out as it comes. I’m human, and this is me, right now.

let’s stay connected!

It was ugly.

It was human.

It was me.

I will not apologize for it.

As  my readers know, writing is HOW I deal with the messy,ugly, fucked up parts of my life.  If I didn’t write, I’d be dead.

Writing the other night moved the constipated heart/head shit out and on it’s way. It was just pooling there, infecting me and making me very poisonous to myself.  I’m blessed and lucky because I love my life and myself and I know myself soo well that I know WHY I do what I do, and I know that EVERY moment of my life is a conscious choice. I CHOOSE every single moment of my life.  As  a result, I can NEVER cry “victim”. and I never do.  I DO NOT believe in it. As a child, I was a victim, as a teenager, I was a victim. But beyond that, I was not, and never will be one again.

Am I pissed that I could not have an easy time getting and then staying pregnant repeatedly? YES.

Am I pissed that I lost three pregnancies?  FUCK YES.

Do I understand any of it? Not in the least bit.

But now, that is okay. I’m okay with it. It is what it is, and it will be what it will be.  I’m healthy, I’m happy. I have a fucking amazing life that others dream of. I have a beautiful perfect daughter whom I adore, I have an amazing husband who blows my mind with his abilities and knowledge and willingness to evolve, even when it’s hard to. He is my best friend and soul mate.

I am loved, deeply loved, by so many. One great thing that has come out of this tragedy is that I HAD to soften myself I HAD to let others into my pain and I HAD to be vulnerable so that others could come in and care for me. If I had not let that happen, I’d have gone to a very very dark place. And that is not an option.

I also see how this event and the other miscarriages, and myself care were tied into my childhood.  I cant explain it right this second because I’m needed and I have to go, but i will be back, to explain and to tell you about some of the other amazing things that are happening.

my readers and fans.. TELL ME what you want??? I would love to give it to you! until later. MBB

It’s been hell. FUCKING hell.

It was weird too, in places. From that day, until Tues evening, I slipped into a wierd brainless/emotionless fog that I didnt’ come out of until 11 p.m on Tues evening. then all hell broke lose, and I sobbed for three nights straight. Gut wrenching, eye blinding, vocal gasps that I had NO control over. It was FUCKING hell.

I’m typing this deftly because I can’t even go there too much, lest the tears begin again.

There’s so much to say, so much that has gone in my head, and NOT out my mouth, for fear of what others would think/say/do.  There have been horrific heartbreaking comments said, emailed and messaged to me.  Simultaneously  there have been amazing people who wrapped their metaphorical arms around me. As with everything in my life, I’m seeing the lessons from it. But those first few days, i couldn’t’ see a goddamned good thing about it.  Even with those in place, I still want to scream cuss words at the top of my lungs and punch a fucking wall. My three words of choice would be FUCK, HELL and GODDAMMED MOTHERFUCKER!!! I d K why, but they are always my go to words when i’m so enraged or so sorrowful I can’t be eloquent.

I’ve composed a few posts in my head. But I was only able to start writing on Thurs. I was utterly broken before that.  I have hilarious things that came out of it, my sadistic way of dealing with my grief.  This post is messy writing wise and i dont even fucking care right now, because to straighten up and be all proper and right, feels like a forced, against my will act that I refuse to undertake at this moment.

Funny thing about tragedy, nosey people want to be a part of it, when they don’t even really care about you or even know you, they just want the drama part of it. I’ve been dealing with that a lot of late, which I have literally had to restrain myself from telling them to fuck off an slamming the door in their faces.  A certain someones mother keeps coming over UNANNOUNCED and UNINVITED and trying to, literally, barge through the locked door. He has told her to stay away and not come over without calling first and respect my space. I’ll talk and see people when I’m ready. Since we moved here, she has walked right into my house when the door is unlocked, so it just remains locked all the time now. She came over, HOURS after my return home, and i literally ran and hid in the pantry.  She came over again and I hid in the basement. The third time she came over, I hid in the bathroom.  Boundaries were never her thing.

I cannot have anymore children. This alone BREAKS my FUCKING heart into a million pieces that I fear if i think of too long, I will never recover from.   Enough said. those words/ thoughts/knowledge, is tear inducing.

i have the best OB/GYN.  She is the one I write about in the essay about my first two miscarriages  She knows my history,she knew the trauma the male dr’s put me through for the two miscarriages, she knew how I didnt trust any of the doctors there,  she knows how much I love children, she knew what getting pregnant with K meant to me.  She brought me safely through K’s pregnancy, and safely birthed K.  She is an AMAZING woman! I’m soo glad she is my dr.  she was heartbroken when this all happened.  I had to have a surgery following all of this, and she did such an amazing job assembling an OR staff that were kind, gentle, empathetic and handled me with care.

The day before the Operation, K got food poisoning and was puking her guts out. I had to be at teh hospital the next day at 730, I didnt want to leave K, but knew I couldn’t back out of the Operation.  it was a horrific out of control time for me. The night before k was soo pissed at me for having to leave I saw how very bonded we are. it was heartbreaking having to leave her.  mihigna ki stayed with K, my sister drove me to hospital and stayed with me all day. I was numb and was not even thinking about what was TRULY ahead of me, i was just thinking about how much i’d be glad to have all the physical pain and illness over with. When the staff (everyone of them on my OR team) showed me empathy and said, “I’m so sorry for your loss” it was like it bounced off me and I went temporarily deaf. Afterwards, I was so toked up on pain meds,  anesthetic and adrenaline, I felt nothing. I laughed my fool head off with my sister and we had a really deep talk.  I think we both wanted to stay in that hospital room and not come out for days. The hospital did a fab job of creating a little cocoon for me. i felt safe.

I made facelift and uterus jokes and made everyone around me laugh, including myself.  Until tha night at 11, when all the pain meds, the anesthetic and the adrenaline wore off. I was in bed, K was next to me, Mihigna ki was on the other side. The house was quiet.  And it just hit me like a train. SLAM. that was it, my pregnancy was over, my uterus was empty, and I would never again, bare a child.  It was too much. I couldn’t stop sobbing. I took more pain meds,  I was given Torodol, the same meds they gave me for the other miscarriages. I love that drug because it seems to make me have amnesia.

its all so fucked up. i’m angry that fucked up mothers get to birth a ton of kids they don’t even care about and for me, it’s like this big fucking chore that I MAY or MAY NOT be granted. WTF?!!

seriously? Who the fuck are they? I love babies, I LOVE bringing life into this world and giving them all i can for an amzaing life. and I get punished???WTF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The greatest fucking job in the world is to be a mother!!!  that alone makes me cry, because honestly. i can’t help BUT take it personally!!!!!

In the end, i have my K, I love her more than myself. I always have, I always will. I will focus on her in this hard time. I dedicate the rest of my life to her. her happiness, her everythign. even more than I already did.  Im giving up all my birthdays for her, screw celebrating me, we will celebrate her and all that she has given me, by choosing ME as her INA. For sticking by me and being born to me.

part of this are still fucked up and I don’t even care, its’ all so raw right now, i just have to write so i don’t do something stupid. because if k were not here, that would be a possibility. I would say fuck it all and walk away from life.

and thats another thing. i’m fucking tired of being strong and getting to the other side. For what? wtf is sooo great at the other side? at this point i mean. I have walked through HELL. motherfucking hell..over and over and over and over again. I’ve kept my head up, ive reminded myself to just keep going, it will get better around the bend.    Btu this last blow…someone please tell me, WTF  is the purpose for ripping my heart out to this degree? Art? helping others? AS IF  i could even do any of that.  ”okay, well you go through hell, and you go through it again, and again and..well… again. and then some more.” uh yah, dont think my face will be getting pasted on any posters for THAT message. and if ONE more person says..”it’s god’s plan..I’m going to SCREAM in their FACE!!!!” and maybe even stomp on their toe!

and then theres the people who have messaged me and told me “get over it.” well, fuck off asswipe. I’m not going to stop talking about it, because there is not enough talk about miscarriages and how fucked up they are how they fuck with your very essence as a woman.

i got a voice, i got hands, better believe i’m gonna use them.

I’m hoping next time i wont be so ugly. but if you read this, thanks. It will get better I promise.

I see many of you have been here, from all over the U.S and outside the U.S. So please, tell me what you would like to see on here, and I will do all I can to provide it for you. I want to serve you, my loyal fans.  I truly appreciate your readership and following and would be happy to provide it for you!

Big things are in the works, things that make me very happy, but I cant tell you about them, until they are in motion.

But in other news,  I moved back to Rosebud, and am VERY happy! Our family is back together and it is incredibly wonderful. it was too hard to be apart and almost caused us to fall apart.  But, we are back to being AMAZING.. and ..drumroll….

we are going to have another baby!!!

This little spirit is a present, as we did not “Plan” for her/him; but we are grateful they are coming to join out little tribe!!!

I’m working on finishing my book; I actually had one, but the publisher LOST it. It’s a long story, which I will tell on another day, but i was really pissed.  But I”m working on the A/B..so my dear fans will be thrilled. I know it’s about time.

I”m also writing a Lakota curriculum; for other Lakota parents who home school, or want to and want Lakota as the first language.

I  will be putting up ASL videos with cunksi and I, both here, and on my YouTube account.

Don’t forget, I have photos for sale, for those interested. Head over to FB and friend my author page…Mary Black Bonnet.

I’d love to connect with some of you!

I hope you all are well! Take care and I’ll be in touch soon!!

I’d love to read your emails too, so feel free to email me@ mzrogue@gmail.com!

She is an amazingly strong woman, who changed her life so she could be an appropriate mother to her child. (She has two, but her first, was born shortly after cunksi)   It was fun to have another mother on the east side of the river who was raising a Lakota child, for the first time at the same time I was.  She is also a dancer, so we would hit wacipi’s together, our little cunksi’s in tow.  As the years have gone by, we have seen each other at our worst, and still continued to love and support each other. I say she is amazing because she is a single mother, and she does it well.  At the time our children were new, I had no idea I was going to be a single mother, so when that time came, I was able to really see what worked for her and what didn’t and check in with her when I thought I was going to lose my mind.

  Anyway,  so she graduated with her MAED and wen to Pine Ridge to teach.  I’m so proud of her, because she is the art teacher for  PR schools and she is doing such a great job!  When I’m East river, I miss her a lot, so while i’ve been in Rosebud, we make sure we get together, and since it was her birthday, it was the perfect time.

  I have so much to say that I dont want to leave anything out.  A lot has happened in the last few months, I know i say that a lot, but most of my life so much stuff happens. Mostly good, but sometimes, not so good.  And it’s been a bumpy few months.  For those who follow my writing via life as a Human, you all know that when I’m quiet, it usually means, somethings going on, or I’m working through something.

   On one hand, things are still pretty emotional and raw for me, since I’ve just gotten through the rough patches and kept on, as is my way.  I’ve let some in, and asked for help where I needed it, but for the most part, it’s still pretty private and will probably stay that way.  My “audience” only hears about the shitty stuff after I’ve gotten through it and to the other side successfully.  Through these hellish last few months, one thing because glaringly clear to me, I don’t do vulnerable well.  Perhaps many of you out here are saying..”DUH” but it was kind of an ah-ha for me.

  One of the things I’m supposed to be doing today is working on my book, but I’m stalling, because I’m not sure if I want to be that emotionally exhausted.   Writing for me is a funny thing like that, as I’ve gotten older, well, no,  it’s been since Cunksi has been born.  Writing IS my therapy, but as more things have come up for me, the more intensely raw and the bigger the scars have  been that I’ve been dealing with, the harder it is to recover from them.  Does that even make sense?

     The Cunksi part I was taking about is, that because she’s here, I (don’t feel) can’t go as deep as I would have pre-baby life.  Before her, I’d get on the floor and wrestle with the demons until I’d made peace with them, scars, blood, tears and all.  But now, I can’t be that far gone, it takes too long, and it takes too long to recover from when I need to be available for her, and not a crying, sobbing, mess.  She is just as emotionally intense as I am, and so she feels just as intensely and big as I do (and did as a child).  If she sees me in tears, she immediately cries too, so I really have to be careful; because some things she just doesnt need to know about yet.

  A lot of this stuff still needs to be processed more, because I’m not making much sense on here, and I don’t like public ambiguity.

   Basically, where I am right now is, I have BIG decisions to make and it’s heartbreaking but necessary.

I had posted another update but i d k where it went. I can see it from my Nook, but i cant see it on here. There were important things in it, but I’m not going to repeat them at this moment.  All is right in the world. At least, our Tiwahe.

This morning, I made Cunksi french Toast, and we sat around the table as a family, talking, drinking coffee, (mihigna ki and i were drinking the coffee, not Cunksi) and just being together. After wards, we did home-school lessons, which she completely ROCKED.  I love being able to H.S her, because I know best how she works. For example, she can identify words, but she gets all nervous if asked to identify certain individual letters.  She rocks at numbers and math and her languages.  We are really blessed in this day and age of HSing because we have so much technology at our hands. I have downloaded things on the nook that are soo HS appropriate, and as always, she is playing, not even aware that we are “learning.”  She is so pure in her spirit, I dont want that tainted, I’ve discussed that before.  But one of the best parts of it all, was while we were working on writing, Mihigna ki said, “I want to do some to, and I want to know what format you are using, so I can do some lessons with her.”  And it made me choke up. I have been a “single” parent for so long, that to no longer  have to handle it all alone, was a rush of relief. And before all the insanity kicked in, they would lay together and  do “school”. he is the main reason why she could add/subtract at two. He has taught her so many things, naturally that he didnt realize what he was naturally doing.

Watching them together, chokes me up.  he is such a good At’e.

We love being here, because we can literally walk out our back door and go hiking. We are surrounded by raw beauty and it’s soo good for our souls.  Cunksi wakes up, eats and wants to head out.  We were  walking along the other day and I said to her, “Do you like being in Rosebud.” She said, “Yes, I love it, we can just walk out our back door and we are in the wild.”  Too funny!

Cunksi has a playdate later with her cousin, so hopefully the roads are fine. We really do a lot of hanging with our relatives when we are here, all her “friends” are her cousins!

I have a lot of “to do” things, I’m continuously working on my Lakota curriculum  and I’m working on developing a home school co op and a kids club as well as a ASL workshop. On top, of all the writing I need to do.

But for now, I’m going to go now, and hang with my family. More later, MBB