It’s easy to miss them.

It’s easy to miss all the little moments that remind us that we matter.

It’s easy to miss those exchanges that show us how much we are loved.

It’s easy to let those moments happen, pause for a brief bit of gratitude, and then return to the hustle and bustle of life.

It’s easy to miss the weight of all those moments.

It’s easy to miss the weight of the quick text from a friend after your child’s sports game telling you your son played great and asking you how you are feeling.

It’s easy to miss the weight of that little package of skinny drink syrups and a cup of good gin left on your doorstep by someone who knows you share the same taste in quality cocktails.

It’s easy to miss the weight of a daily funny meme text from a friend just to make you laugh.

It’s easy to miss the weight of a Facebook message and post from high school friends who are just checking in on you.

It’s easy to miss the weight of a hug from a friend who stops mid conversation when you enter their house just to give you a hug - one of those nice long hugs that only real friends can give.

It’s easy to miss the weight of posts from online friends that you have never met in real life yet have somehow become some of the most important people in your life.

It’s easy to miss the weight of an Aunt who puts together a gift of snacks and teas and a Golden Girls mug to remind you of your grandmother.

It’s easy to miss the weight of group texts from friends who make you laugh, keep you connected, and accept you - even with all your flaws.

It’s easy to miss the weight of a 15 year old son taking time each day to ask you how you are feeling - even two weeks after you have surgery.

It’s easy to miss the weight of a 12 year old son somehow finding his way into the crook of your arm to snuggle a bit - even after all these years.

It’s easy to miss the weight of your 7 year old niece giving you a handmade card on HER birthday asking how you are feeling.

It’s easy to miss the weight of your sister bringing an extra bag of dark chocolate Cadbury mini eggs just for you because she knows you don’t like milk chocolate.

It’s easy to embrace these moments, soak them in for a bit, and then file them away in the back of your brain - filed in that dark space where the volume is set too low.

It’s easy for those moments to get overshadowed by the moments of self doubt, low self esteem, and insecurities - all of those seemingly stored in a place where the volume is kept too high.

It’s easy to miss them.

But we can’t LET ourselves miss them.

We need to remember how much we are loved and how much we matter.

Drag out your memories of those moments and shine the light on them.

Turn up the volume on those moments.

Write them down.

Cherish them.

Hold onto them.

Turn to them on your dark days.

Those are the moment that matter.

Those are the moments that are real.

If you’ve been here for a while, you know I’m all about being real and giving space to things that are difficult to talk about.

So, here I am!

It’s been 6 days since my 6 hour surgery to evict my broken uterus and excise my endometriosis and since I write about everything else, I figured it’s probably time to write about this too...

For starters, I read my surgery notes yesterday.

Yikes.

It turns out I was a mess internally. Endo had been doing quite a number on my insides. Organs were not where they belonged. Stuff was stuck to other stuff. Endo was growing through muscles and was literally everywhere. I had to have a lot of stuff removed, put back in place, and put back together. I’ve got internal sutures and dissolvable mesh and am waiting on lots of pathology reports from things that were removed.

Explains why the surgery took 6 hours.

Already it is lovely to no longer be feeling the daily pain my uterus was causing me for years now and it’s startling to be starting to really understand just how much pain I was in on a regular basis before last week’s surgery.

But, man do hormones suck.

My doctor had told me that I might feel pretty hormonal afterwards for 4-6 weeks. Endo is hormones and my body would likely react to the sudden hormonal change when lots of endo was removed even though I was able to keep my one remaining ovary. I felt great a few days ago and thought I was out of the woods.

Ha ha ha.

Silly me.

My doctor was right about everything else so of course he was right about this.

I feel first trimester pregnant now. I’m nauseous. I’m tired. Everything makes me cry. I’m foggy.

And I’m a bad Amazon shopper now too. It turns out that fogginess plus online shopping is not a good match.

On a slightly related note, does anyone need a random round battery from Amazon that fits absolutely nothing?

Back to the hormones...I only want to eat bland carbs and Cadbury mini eggs.

And I’m craving weird things.

Like that raspberry lime rickey in the photo.

I typically don’t drink anything other than water, tea, and alcohol and nothing sweet.

But man did that raspberry lime Rickey taste good.

So, basically right now I’m a lot of fun.

All of the hormone symptoms get worse the more I push myself. They also seem to peak in the afternoon so I am trying to find a balance between doing something and doing nothing.

I sort of suck at that.

I taught a class today and that went well but now my brain is mush - as evidenced by the choppiness of this post.

So, what is the point of this post?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Sometimes the point is that there is no point.

Sometimes you just have to be in the process - without really knowing when you’ll get to the other side of the process.

Sometimes you just have to be in it - wading through the mud and muck and dragging yourself to the other side.

So, this is my update from inside the process.

Reminding you that if you are in the middle of a process right now - keep holding on.

Keep moving forward.

The other side is there. You’ll make it there.

And if you love someone going through a process and they aren’t so fun to be around right now, love them anyways.

They’ll get back to being themselves soon.

And seriously, when your brain is mush and foggy, step away from the online shopping...

I have a confession.

All around me this week people are sharing their posts from a year ago - posts from when our lives as we knew them came to screeching halt.

Although those 2020 feelings of dread, fear, and uncertainty are there beneath the surface and I can easily tap into them, those feelings are not how I define my memories of the past year.

I remember things a bit differently.

I remember my oldest son walking around in a bike helmet all day on a dare from his brother because what else was there to do? The photos from that day will forever make us chuckle.

I remember pulling out all our board games to pass the time, working our way through all the boxes that filled our hallway closet. Those games allowed us to share laughter and create memories.

I remember learning Tik Tok dances much to the embarrassment of my sons. Somehow those silly songs now hold a special place in my heart.

I remember group FaceTime calls with my friends as we showed our stashes of toilet paper and hand sanitizer. Those calls brought us closer and provided me with a connection I desperately needed.

I remember creative date nights at home planned by my husband. His Dominican feast on the day we were supposed to be traveling alone to Punta Cana certainly did not replace our trip but it was a pretty good back up plan.

I remember sitting at our kitchen table every morning. That tiny table that somehow fit four humans, their four laptops, and mountains of paperwork became the center hub of our home as we all made the switch to remote learning and remote working.

I remember watching the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe and Star Wars catalog as a family - twice - once in the release order and once in chroniclogal order. Those films became the soundtrack of our year.

I remember crafting a new kitchen island as a family after on a whim I said we needed a bigger space to do our work. Now that Island anchors my family and serves as the gathering place in our home.

I remember building a new patio as a family, brick by brick, because our backyard would be where we would spend our entire spring and summer. Even now under cover of winter in New England, that patio makes me smile as it is a piece of my family’s heart.

I remember hugging my sister, brother in law, my nieces, and my nephew for the first time after the initial lockdown. In that moment, standing in my dining room with tears in our eyes, we all decided that we needed to be in each other’s bubble always.

I remember spending time with friends outdoors when at times it almost felt like normal life.

I remember how when we struggled we were there for each other.

I remember how we all adapted.

I remember how we learned important lessons about ourselves and our family.

I remember how we decided to make lasting changes to our lives.

I remember laughter.

I remember joy.

I remember love.

I remember hope.

I remember that the year we were forced inward and were forced to slow down was also the year when we learned how to stay connected and truly enjoy life.

I remember that we found out just how lucky and loved we truly are.