Blog 4 - Dreamin Again - Memoir

Its about 4 a.m. and I am sitting here waiting for my name to be called. My lifeless body has taken the form of this chair as I feel I have been sitting here for eternity. Every minute feels like an hour and every time the damn door opens I think they are going to call my name. “Tina, the doctor will see you now!” “Tina?” Ok I have been here much longer than Tina has. I was here way before Tina was. Why does she get to go now and Im still sitting here waiting. Why are all these people in white; no one has a face. I know who everyone is by name as I have been coming here for so long but yet they have no features. Their voices are blurred and its sounds like babbling, yet I hear my name every now and again. I know they are talking about me. Why can’t they tell me what’s going on. Why am I the last to know. How can twelve people know what is going on but me. I have spent my whole life waiting for this moment, again.
I guess someone will help me get up there. That table is always so chilly and the radio seems to be playing the same song over and over. It’s the same song that was playing the last three times I was here. I am so focused on what is going on now for the third time, I am not thinking about anything else. Home is just a place where I hang my hat now. It was always a comfy place filled with love and commitment and now it is four walls closing in on me similar to the walls that surround me now. Im starting to get very tense. I can feel the weight of heavy stares in the back of my head. Why are they staring at me. I know what they are thinking and I don’t like it. People should not be judgemental when you have not walked in my old worn shoes. I have walked these shoes for the third time now and each time does not get any easier. “Lisa!” Oh my God!! It’s me they are calling me!! Ok just relax, whatever will be, will be.

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

SNOOZE! YAWN! STRETCH! YAWN AGAIN!

Its Friday morning, time to get up, get in the shower and get there. My appointment is at nine and I should have all my results by ten. How exciting. Im either going to be very disappointed or so exciting I wont be able to stand it! Whatever the news, I need to be prepared. I have been in this situation now many times and need to make sure the news I get this time is no different. It’s all how you handle things. The room is done and done and done again. I have changed it around numerous times and hopefully this will be the last. It seems as though I change the room to change the news I am going to get and that doesn’t help. I try not to think about it, who can’t? This has consumed me, held onto my emotions so tightly. What a grip! I feel like a sausage in a casing trying to squeeze myself out of both ends, HELP!
Oh this shower feels good. Make sure my legs are shaved and I wash and rinse well as they will be examining me from the tips of my toes to the top of my pretty little head. Wow, look at all these bruises. Those small needles sure do a lot of damage to my body. I am still trying to figure out how all this medication is supposed to help me when all it really does it pack on the pounds and make me feel like vomiting.
Whew! I need a new hot water heater. The hot water is not lasting as long as my showers are. My expenses now overwhelm me. I am drowning in debt with cold water. I am spending and waiting and testing and its all for something I have waited my whole life for. It is an experience that I so desperately want to have. I have to pay for it!? That just doesn’t seem fair, does it? I have to bring my checkbook and put myself in the hands of science! Ok, sometimes I need to tell myself to relax. Step out onto the rug, be careful, its slippery, dry off, get dressed and get to my appointment.
This parking lot is packed; where am I going to park. Handicapped spot? Ok I don’t have the sticker but I sure do feel that way.
WOW There is the seat that practically swallowed me in my dream. I go up to the window as I have so many times, “Lisa?” the girl says, before I can get it out myself.
Yes, I am Lisa. Ok I am on the prayer chain at church, I have worn my St. Gerard pin on my bra now for years, I have everyone routing for me here. Ok, Im going to sit down and read a magazine…Parenting, Parents, The Child, Pamphlets on Pregnancy, etc. The list goes on. I cannot get away from it, it’s everywhere. Its going to happen this time, I am sure of it. “Lisa!” They called my name, yes? “Your co-pay please.” Oh..this is torture!
Relax, think positively!
I am FINALLY called in. Undressed from the waist down, yea, yea, yea…I know all about it! The doctor comes in with a not-so-good attitude, “Im sorry”, he said. “There is not much else we can do at this point.” “We can try again!” AGAIN? AGAIN? I am running out of money, my husband won’t even talk to me anymore, my nursery had been decorated three different times with three different themes with three different procedures and you want me to do this again!! I feel like driving off the nearest cliff!!
I am tired, I am sick and tired. I am sick and tired of fighting this losing battle. I have tried three times and three times I have failed. I don’t know how much more one person can take. My family is distraught, my husband is sick and tired of masturbating in small rooms into small cups with shitty magazines. “Well, have you ever considered adoption?” No, I guess I haven’t, but I guess I am going to have to now!
I asked my husband to make sure he was home for dinner that night as we needed to speak NOW, as usual. He would not even hear of adoption. We had no money, we were in debt, I was frazzled, he was pissed and I was at a loss.
That night I went to bed alone. He was next to me physically but not emotionally. I could hear his breathing but he wouldn’t speak any words to me that I wanted to hear, “Lisa, just forget it, ok, just forget it!” I couldn’t! The next day I went to my parents house and cried and cried and cried. My daddy right next to my side as he always was and said, “hunny, your mom and I will do whatever you say and we will help you in any way possible…”
Four months, ten thousand dollars and another new nursery later, I was pregnant with twins! Not only one, BUT TWO!! Two what, boys, girls, one of each. Two heart beats, two cribs, two bouncy seats, two high chairs, two bassinetts, two..two..two..
I don’t think I was ever so happy in all my life. It was Christmas time and what a wonderful gift this was.
I was sick and tired again, but this was a wonderful sick and tired. I could take anything anyone had to give me right now. I could face anything at anytime, I loved life, went shopping, bought book after book on “how to’s” . I did it all! I enjoyed every moment of being pregnant. These little miracles growing inside me is a feeling I cannot even put into words, indescribable!
May 4, my wedding anniversary, all hell broke loose. I called my husband at work, IM IN PAIN! I was brought over to the doctor’s office immediately! My worst nightmare was coming true twenty weeks into it. What is wrong with me, what is happening. I was back in my dream all over again where everyone was talking and I didn’t understand what they were saying, they were all wearing white and no one had a face. No one could tell me what was going on. I waited there until I was seen by another “high-risk” doctor.
Ya know the kind that paces as he speaks and chews the end of his medium point bic pen. The kind that scratches his head as he doesn’t even know what is going on. Well, we agreed to bed rest. Two weeks later, she was gone. Christina her name was and her brother Christian was still going strong. I couldn’t function for a long time. I had medication to help me sleep, then medication to help me get up, then medication to help me shower. They probably should have just put me in a rubber room and shut the door because I was breaking down in a bad way!
I layed on my floor one day as I was dragging myself to the bathroom and just cried and cried and realized how I have to go on for the other life living inside me. I have to keep him well and let him know, we are going to be fine. He was a fighter just like his mommy. On August 26, 1998 he was born by C-section huge head nine pounds and a bundle of joy and love! My little miracle is eight years old now and is everything I thought he would be and more.
I left my husband when my son was thirteen months old as we drifted in two different directions quickly after going through so many things together. I have realized over time that you are never given anything that you cannot handle and that things happen for reasons that are sometimes unexplainable.

Blog 2 - personal essay vs. memoir

Lisa Rotella

I feel that personal essays and memoirs definitely overlap and they probably have more things in common that they do differently. There are still some distinctions that I believe make a difference.


Personal Essays
One instance – maybe one experience
Story based on an experience and how you reacted to it
The reflection of a situation that occurred
History repeated itself – alcoholism, drugs, etc.
Topic and a personal viewpoint
Not objective – strictly opinion

Memoirs
Events over a long period of time
Personal Essay + Auto Biography like story
Life stories or lessons
Journal – everyday occurrences for extended periods of time
Diary