bathed in full moon light.
her power swelling. building. shifting.
casting a magic glow
greeting me as we reach halfway… twenty weeks.
a blessing.
so in love every day… so blissed out and in tune. so in the moment, cherishing… honouring. soaking it all up.
a confidence that buds within me…
one that is revealing itself, growing stronger with time.
week 17-
silence, and cramps.
before i go to bed, i search through the bedroom window, looking for her… my moon. the sky is dark and empty, she must be hiding… maybe there’s clouds.. maybe it’s too late and she’s made her way past the roof tops… i climb into bed to go to sleep…
feeling uneasy, unsure… wanting reassurance. knowing *knowing* that everything is fine, but still… wishing for some sign.
seeking advice and love from a kindred spirit, who answers back in the most magical way…
week 17 is right on the cusp… between feeling baby move, and that silence and stillness within. like a new moon, dark and mysterious, shrouded in question. but like the moon, her bright, full face will return shortly and bathe you in light and newness.
and how much more magical…did i realise that when i wrote this, when she answered… when i felt unease… it fell on a new moon…
i’m learning to honour these transitions… honouring these questions that come… these stretches and cramps within that ebb and flow like an oceans tide. honouring this mystery that twists and grows inside, randomly filling me with a zen calmness…its blue aura engulfing me.
week 18-
squidgy. that’s the only word i can use to describe the first real feelings of you. during one of these cramping achy moments, i sit with my hands pressed to my belly, seeing if there is any way i could feel you. wanting that reassurance that these cramps are from your world expanding… my pulse beating from my palms, pulse beating through my sides.. too *loud* to be still and silent enough to feel a tiny flutter.
and then suddenly… from my side, this squidgy movement. as if you were rolling. a few more times you rolled, just enough to tell me… and then you became a mystery again.
cramps have eased up, now at least i feel like i know what they are from… ebbs and flows of an ocean tide. needing more room to expand and grow, by all means…
yesterday a sharp pain in my back. like a pinched nerve in the base of my spine, crippling me to walk hunched over… unable to get up gracefully, unable to bend… move.
and so i danced and moved… swaying my hips in big circles and curves… belly dancing with you, calm fluid motions. breathing and exhaling, in the same way i know we will dance during labour… making my hips loose and wide, breathing you down.
and just like that, the pain started to subside into a dull muscle ache… and by the next morning absolutely perfect.
–
this transition has been a beautiful one, fluid…some days i feel connected, and other days i feel like i harvest a mystery. i am so thankful for each step. … my life feels like its changing direction in so many ways. exuding more positivity. banning negative energy and people from my life. surrounding myself and my family in healing, positive light…
trusting my body and my intuition…
knowing that this babe has its own intentions for me, for it’s life…how it came to me, how it decides to be born… it will be my greatest teacher. bring me to new worlds and back again… strip me raw, leave me with bare minimal… teach me new things about myself- show me how strong i can be, and how fragile. how capable, and how chaotic.
finding comfort in kindred spirits. regardless of babies born in heart, or womb- women who surround me and remind me that i need not seek answers- but listen to myself… listen to what feels right. trust the wisdom that is inside each of us.
our greatest gift.
i have scars that welcomed me into womanhood. at first they were deep purple, stretching down my thighs, up my hips. across my breasts.. even through my stomach.
i was ashamed of them… the only stretch marks i had known were the ones on my moms belly, and hers were beautiful to me. running my fingers across the silvery ribbons, when i’d lay my head on her belly and listen.
i knew they were her witness to carrying three babies. and they were real… and they were ‘mom’.
for a long time i felt like i had a body that looked like it’s already carried a baby. a poochy belly with silver ribbons. and feeling like that was just more ammunition to hating my body for deceiving me. for not being fertile… for looking like a mothers, instead of a young woman.
it’s only recently that i don’t mind…that through my fertility journey i had to start accepting who i saw in the mirror, and be as loving and gentle with her as i could… not send her so much negativity that she was already dealing with. knowing that, my body image should have been the least of my worries- but i only tallied it on to being a failure..
and how wrong was i, how wrong are we?
i can now look at my silvery ribbons with some compassion, knowing that they started to creep up at such a gentle time for a young woman… knowing that that was the beginning of my self-awareness and let down of confidence… and that’s just so sad to me.
i wish that i would have realised at that time that coming into womanhood meant that my body will give and stretch to a new life… that i was joining this emotional… empowering.. sisterhood. that, instead of such an embarrassing nuisance- i was beginning a journey of discovering myself, of learning wisdom. of learning the balance and art of being a woman, sister, lover, friend… and learning that i’m important too. that i need to take time to nourish myself, and to learn to love myself.
and so now i stand in the mirror and look at these silver strands that wiggle up my hips, up my stomach, thighs, breasts.. and i am so in awe of them. in what they represent for me in that transition of my life, and knowing that i’ll have new scars that welcome me into motherhood.
and they will be the same story as my mom’s scars were for me….
(in)fertility. i took that usage of the word from my sweet friend, denise.
i fell in love with it immediately, because it wasn’t a definition. it wasn’t a neat little category where things all fit into. it wasn’t hard. it wasn’t solid.
infertile (adj); not fertile, unproductive, sterile, barren.
uhm… nope.
i don’t care what any doctor says. no woman (or man) is infertile. it just simply isn’t true… and casting that name. judgement. across yourself says this is the end of the road. there is no more. get over it… you will never…you admit defeat when you have only just begun.
fertility is always more than sperm and egg…
fertility is…a state of mind, a yearning with your heart, reaching with your soul.
an (in)fertile couple yearns for their babe… and their babe will find them by whatever means it can. it will always find them..
i realised that the heartache it takes to get there is necessary… i found a tribe of beautiful, amazing, talented women. with such compassion and big hearts. i found a way to help other women just discovering their own grief.. i found a way to help myself… to appreciate more. to not take for granted. to let go of jealousies, and be more grateful. daily. learn from this experience… be given wisdom from a place that i never wanted, but am also appreciative of. like it was destined to happen… to be a voice, or a hand, and know how to hold the torch for others in need.
one of my favourite words is prolific. and living that way… being prolific in all that you do. in your art, in your passions… with your heart. does that make sense?
–
i feel torn…
while i sit and celebrate and feel so joyous in finding my spirit baby… actually, him/her finding me.
i can’t help but feel like i’m also being insensitive to those who are still on the path.
.. i don’t believe that a positive test is the end to my fertility journey. (nor a negative one..) it just feels like the next step. like a transition. like the same transitions i was finding ON the (in)fertility journey. the anger, and hurt, and jealousy, and mourning. finding light and positivity, finding myself.. and this just feels like one more step in that process.. that will continue to go on.
i feel torn because…
i know that feeling of being punched in the gut when i found out a friend, or fellow path walker found their babe.
and i also know the feeling of celebrating with women found theirs, and i felt blessed to be apart of their new story, and genuinely excited and proud of them. wanting to know every last detail.
–
so many of these torch carriers for me have children of their own, some walked a delicate fertility path, some are still on it, and some have never had to endure it.
and a lot of times those women say ‘i don’t know this pain you’re in’
and i guess i understand… because i look at girls who just happened to lay down and get pregnant. without a second thought. without wanting. without yearning… but i suppose that’s their lesson to. they have to find wisdom on that journey, just as i had to find mine.
… i know that i’m not getting out what i’m wanting to say.i don’t know if i really can.
a friend of mine mourns an early miscarriage, and while she can’t be around me right now. i tell her that i understand, and acknowledge her pain. and want her to understand that even though i have not lost a baby, i felt untrust, disbelief, disgust, and death.. in my body. for two years. and that i feel like i can understand where she is coming from- without really knowing that painful grief as my own.
but maybe i’m wrong.
my heart feels heavy today. with her grief. and with my own delicate fears throbbing in the back of my mind.
–
this all fell apart at the end. i don’t know how to eloquently put together what i’m trying to say… i don’t know how to be as gentle and warm as denise is when she talks about this delicate line…
i just want anyone that has followed my journey… who is on their own path- to know that i understand if you can’t celebrate with me… and understand when you need to ignore me.
and i’m sorry.. especially if i have been insensitive.
yesterday we got to see this bouncing little water baby…
sigh. nothing could have taken the smile off my face after seeing that.
these tiny little legs bending and pushing against one side to launch itself to the other. like your three year old does in the bathtub, sending water all over the edges- and the room full of giggles. little mermaid legs…
i wish the scan was better so you could see.. it was clear enough to watch- but this ultrasound wasn’t as clear as our first one at the hospital. that’s alright… i can still make out everything. : )
but not only was seeing this little babe wiggling and moving and.. an actual BABY. with arms and legs.. legs that will be chunky thighs that i won’t be able to stop nibbling on. and little feet so soft and pure, having never touched earth. sorry sorry.. hee! getting off track. ahem. i’m in love with the doctor.
after fighting my way through doctors and specialists- just to be diagnosed with PCOS. realising that i had to be my own doctor in cases… realising that they just didn’t give a fuck. that i’d have to repeat everything. every time.. tell them what i needed to be put on. research my own destiny and beg and try to convince one doctor or the next to do something… anything. besides just putting me on a long waiting list.
and now? …every single doctor, nurse, midwife i have met with- after coming in with a positive test, have been nothing but amazing and wonderful to us.
the regular doctor that i will be attending under was actually sick yesterday. so i got his replacement. b-b-but… i love him. he was so wonderful. just. happy and positive and silly and. it completely put my mind at ease about giving birth here, in a hospital. i almost don’t want my attending doctor now. haha (though, my mother-in-law did have my attending when she was pregnant, and loves him too)
anyway, we were also completely surprised to find out that i am measuring at 12 weeks already. (even though i didn’t really think that the doctor in the hospital took long enough to check. and that his calculation seemed a bit off) but TWELVE WEEKS! what a sigh of relief. and i know he’s just spoiling me, so he said he’ll have me back in a month to have another scan to double check. hee! just another little peek.
la la la
i have been putting off sharing for a while now…
in some ways i felt like this was too precious and delicate and.. early.
in other ways i felt awkward and unsure of how to talk about being on the other side of this fertility journey… not knowing how some people might deal with reading about what is going on in our lives.
but mostly, there is an aspect of letting go when i write. sharing our fertility journey left me incredibly vulnerable, but also gave me power… i could pour it out, release some, move on or work through… and this experience isn’t something to do that with…
this experience i’m holding tight to my chest. keeping it safe in my heart, holding it so close to me because it’s the most amazing thing to have happened…
—
i just now am learning how to let go enough to write in a journal, to record everything. i never thought i would have such a problem doing just that. i always imagined the projects i would do while pregnant-to keep this story for our children. and then came exhaustion, and little bouts of nausea… but mostly what came was the need to pull away from everything and just be.
i guess i’ve already been introduced to what this whole experience will be.. learning new things, learning things about myself that i never thought would be. learning to find my way in them. learning to trust myself.
and since i’ve been able to start journaling about everything, i’m feeling more confident in myself. feeling a closer connection to our babe, feeling more positive that this is my turn..
we have already had one glimpse of our babe. a quick trip to the a&e because of a little scare. a beating heart… little arms and legs that wiggle around. it was the cutest thing i’ve ever seen. neither of us expected to see such a baby. a blob. a peanut. whatever… but arms and legs and moving around… thinking about it again makes me tear up.
the doctor took forever to find it. i laid there with my head turned to the wall, tears began to pool at my eyes… i was waiting for her to tell me that she couldn’t find anything. that there was nothing but emptiness. that i was crazy and must have made the positive pregnancy test up.
…and then steven saw the flutter of the heartbeat first. and there it was. our baby… this little dancing swimming baby.. i laughedcried, couldn’t keep my stomach still to keep that picture on the screen.. and just thanked the doctor for finding my baby..
my next scan is in a few days, hopefully we’ll get a really good picture and i’ll share with you then, and i’ll try to be more present here… i had so many amazing people to walk with me, hold me up, help guide me. and i’ve only just arrived. (i really have no idea how people keep it to themselves for 12-13 weeks!)
i’ve been so silent these past few days. weeks.. what feels like months. most of it i’m just blaming on the cold and dark of winter. bringing the laptop to bed and spending most of my time curled up there, staying warm.
and now… since finding out i’m..pregnant… (heh, that feels so weird to say) i am feeling a bit extra delicate and fragile in myself. listening to my body and trying to give it whatever it needs…
but then just not really knowing what to expect.
almost feeling like i am making all of this up.
google in hyperdrive when certain symptoms end up leaving, not staying as quickly as books and online things say they’ll last. i know every pregnancy is different, and maybe i’ll all of a sudden get a surge of nausea and feel like kicking myself for even saying that.
ugh… still trying to stay calm and relaxed and enjoy every bit of this- but i guess that at this beginning stage, it’s just a balance of figuring out what is going on…if everything is okay. i don’t feel pregnant.
when do you?
for something that i really felt so so connected to immediately before hand, to all of a sudden feeling lost, unsure, crazy. raging hormones? elated and so super positive to…unsure and delicate.
i think i’ll feel so much better once i have the ultrasound. i ended up having to call my fertility specialist to see about getting an early scan, and paying out of pocket for that. because my regular GP just has me on a waiting list for the hospital, which can take up to 12 or so weeks to get an appointment. (ugh… and he. i don’t know. just feels like a fool to me… i know i know.. i need to look for someone else to take over my care that i feel comfortable with, but it seems fairly difficult to find someone here that i felt comfortable dealing with my fertility issues…let alone this. )
so perhaps when i hear the heartbeat, and see that everything is just fine and normal…and get to see the doctor that filled me with so much hope and reassurance that we would get here. and know and feel like we really really are here.
***
but something that does make me incredibly happy each time i look at it…
knowing that i’m pregnant in this picture… the day before we found out. this picture of us together is so extra special to me. (i know steven won’t like me posting it. too bad!)
*update*
re-reading through all the beautiful blessings and well wishes from so many of you…
finding my center again.
remembering the energy that surrounds us all… connects us all…
brought my babe to me.
talking to my friend helped me realise that again… getting too caught up in what is supposed to happen, what might happen…
instead i’ll breathe… and touch my belly.. and smile on my face, and in my heart. and feel all that energy that’s wrapped around us. and all this energy within me.
*this was written about two weeks ago… i never published it because i didn’t know how to wrap it up.. and i also wasn’t sure if it was something to share. i’m still a bit intoxicated in love with the whole thing… and i know well it doesn’t make sense to anyone else but me… : ) *
‘healers often have a blue colour in their aura…
blue is the ideal colour you need to work with to give or receive healing energy.’
i’ve kept this to myself a wee bit… not having told anyone- because it’s slightly insane and silly.. and, well… it only really matters to me.
almost like telling a dream to someone- you begin with ‘so i was in my room, but it wasn’t my room… but i could just tell it was my room. and then my mom came in, but she wasn’t my mom, but she was—-’
and no one wants to hear that.
(even though i subject steven to that all the time. ha!)
so… the other night before i settled in to sleep. i lay flat on my back with my hands pressed into the sore cramps slicing in my uterus and pulling at my ovaries. so painful, but making no progress on anything for me. so i pressed my hands in- thinking that maybe i could heal myself, as i try to when i massage other people. trying to pull the poisonous energy out…
i lay there, with my hands heavy on my lower belly, sighing to let it go.
and then came these colourful orbs… there were multiple, maybe five. all different colours. the one in the front- that appeared the biggest- was a bright electric blue. inside this light orb was a laughing baby, but looked like a buddha statue. rolly polly- laughing his arse off. mouth spread wide open, eyes turned like rainbows. such a deep belly laugh. the blue orb just hovered there with this jolly little buddha baby.
the other orbs, different colours (though i cant really remember what colours they were) were all filled with other buddha babies laughing. they all looked different, some rolling backwards with their legs up in the air. some clutching their bellies in a hardcore laugh…
all so happy and joyous.
the blue baby in the front felt so familiar to me- not that it looked like anything. it wasn’t a real persons face, just like a statue of a buddha in a young, chubby form.
….and then after that, i felt calm.
i felt safe.
i felt happy.
like i just experienced the knowledge that my babies would find me when they are ready. when they find that space in the universe that they are needed most.
i didn’t really know what to think of this appearance. i wasn’t asleep at all… it wasn’t a dream. it was just this feeling i guess. like they were mine, we belonged to each other- but were entirely separate. they had lives of their own- but we were still attached. them more mysterious to me, of course.
a few days later i remembered a friend of mine had recommended me to read ‘spirit babies’ of course i never did, and i didn’t even look it up to see what it was all about.
still, i let that part pass.. being completely at peace with my own thing
until last night, when i was reading ‘baby catcher’ -she had a miscarriage, and her son told her about the spirit babies
and i thought ‘woah….wait…’
+++
okay so this is where i guess i left off at, one night, two weeks ago. this vision didn’t happen two weeks ago- it happened a bit before that but felt too precious for me to write down to share with anyone else.
after that, i looked up the blue aura and found that it was healing and calming… and was so beside myself that that is how i felt about where i would be on my fertility journey.
i even mentioned it a smidge bit to a few friends at the new year- and that especially after seeing this vision of this baby in blue, that i felt calm and ready and okay. knowing that my baby would come…
…and it has.
!!!!
little did i know it, but my babe was already making it’s way, snug and getting ready. ..after two years of negative tests..
i feel like i have known about it for a good while, but through all of it i kept trying to force myself to think of something else… to convince myself that i was going crazy. so many signs pointing to yes, but i was so afraid…to yet again be hurt by a negative test and my own hormones…
i wasn’t sure when i would be ready to share the news here, i’ve only just discovered the news recently myself… but i wanted to make sure that all of my loves knew before finding something on facebook or anywhere else. : )
i feel so blessed to have so much healing, guiding, loving energy surrounding me from so many hearts around the world… right here with me on my journey to finding my baby…
thank you for keeping me in this space.
(sending out so much extra love to my girls that are making their own way on their fertility journey. i understand how it feels to read… in ways you want to be happy, and in a lot of ways- you’re just upset… and i want you to know that that’s okay.. and that i still have a place for you in my heart. xo.)
journey (n.)
.a travelling from one place to another, usually taking a rather long time
.a distance, course, or area travelled or suitable for travelling
.a period of travel.
.passage or progress from one stage to another: the journey to success.
the passage or progress from one stage to another.
over time i’ve been able to recognize each passage. each vital step.
at the beginning though, it was all jumbled. confusion. anger. frustration. doom. i wanted to fast forward, i wanted to see the future. i wanted to just know that it’d all be okay.
isn’t that life.
it could be compared to every other journey we take in life. stories of love, heartache. personal discovery, dealing with depression or any medical issue. death, or unexpected circumstances. you go through a process- and it all starts out the same.
mourning.
-denial. ‘this can’t be…’
-anger. ‘this is so unfair…’
-bargaining. ‘i’ll do anything to bring back/change ____’
-depression. ‘i can’t bear this sadness…’
-acceptance. not necessarily an easy acceptance…
the stages aren’t always marked so clear. sometimes they overlap. occasionally you can move back and forth between them. but i am sure that you have felt that process at some point in your life, and if you haven’t yet- you most certainly will.
and while it is shitty… and how at first you feel so raw and vulnerable. scared and wanting to give it away- I now know how important it is… how much the process changes you, prepares you.
mighty words to speak when i haven’t even finished… when i am only just barely there.
–
i was reading through a friend’s archives. i know her story, and i followed it before i knew of my own fertility issues. i felt her pain, as it had always been a fear of mine…
but it was only recently that i read back through her archives again…i stayed up all night, so tired- ready to go to bed hours ago- but i couldn’t… i discovered something. i found similarity in our voices. in our paths… and in a similar amount of time.
we were/are on different journeys- with the same wish in our heart.
but in her archives- i started to recognize myself in the places that i had already been, already moved on from. i discovered my words in hers, my feelings as if she wrote them.
and then i moved on to 2007. two years after she began, where she wrote a post that felt as if it spoke my mind..
‘…As crazy as all this is, I am truly not as consumed as I used to be. I am thrilled about my business and creating those opportunities for my life. And looking back, if I would have conceived when we first started trying, I am not quite sure I would be where I am today career wise. So for this, I am trusting and letting go more and more.’
–
it has been two years since i began on my journey. i stand in the same place she did.
and though, two years ago would not have been the ‘perfect’ time for us to have a baby- and i was not yet aware of my PCOS. i had stopped taking birth control, and started with ‘whatever happens happens’ (secretly hoping that each month I would fall pregnant… and soon start to discover the problems-and continue on a path to diagnose it)
right now… i stand where she did. and a year later, her babe found her…
it wasn’t in the way she dreamed of and expected…
exactly a year later she started to shift into adoption
eleven months later she was in the room with her birth mother, witnessing the birth of her babe…
–
it just hit me so hard…
i’m standing in the same transition. the same part of the journey.
understanding that if i would have had a baby when we started wishing, our lives would be completely different.. that i might not have my etsy store and be painting pieces and discovering this part of me. sharing it with the world…
and suddenly i’m feeling like… maybe in a year my story will shift. maybe this time next year i’ll have news of how my baby will be brought to me. maybe my story will unfold. maybe i’ll give birth, or find out i’m pregnant, or find a new fertility path…
…what a discovery.
i feel like i’ve waited so long to just discover this feeling. babeless yet, but in my heart i know that i will, one day. it feels so close.
just seeing that is helping me to let go, and trust more and more…
–
some days i damn this journey. and other days i feel blessed by it.
like perhaps it’s a really shitty gift until you realize the possibilities of it… that it’s brought me to this space…these friends, this place in my life where I am selling my art. that it’s given me hope. that it’s teaching me patience and understanding that i have no control… that it’s teaching me now, to take care of my body- of my health… it’s warning me. and it’s giving me wisdom and lessons… maybe so that i can help guide other women with the same wounds. show them. prove to them. understand and be compassionate with them.
carving me to be a better woman, wife, lover, mother, friend.
–
i bet a year ago you wouldn’t have imagined where you are today, what you would be doing, what you have in your life…
imagine all the possibilities to come.
and go tell everyone you love how much you love and appreciate them. tell them how beautiful they make your life.
xo.
–
right now i am so grateful:
. to have this space to write freely.
. that my mom’s mammogram came back just fine. still makes me tear up to think about it. (a good reminder to you to keep those babies in check!)
. this stressful, crazy, beautiful holiday time of year- even though i’m homesick.
. extra cuddles in bed in the morning with my man.
. these slippers that have kept my feet warm this season.
i woke up to a phone call from my momma this morning. which was lovely. we normally talk on skype, there was just something nice about being on the phone though. maybe it’s less distractions. (even though near the end you weren’t paying attention to me and started watching t.v. …that’s okay.)
we discussed this painting- and how i had posted it online, asking people to give name suggestions.
to me, this piece is all about holding onto your baby. sweet tender moments- soaking it all in. holding tight and cherishing how your babe still fits into your arms, or still asks for cuddles… or is just. to me- it is all about holding onto those moments, before your babe’s spirit gets big, and grows wings of her own…
my mama summed it up pretty well- ‘how about, Don’t Get Used to This, Because I Will Find Me an Irishman and Leave You…’
ha!
yes..pretty much that is exactly what i was thinking about when i finished this painting.
i tell all of my friends with children, especially girls- to not let them fall in love with a man from another country. it’s so romantic and wonderful and adventurous and such a fairy tale… it’s amazing, and worth it. it enriches your life, it opens your mind. but oh my goodness it is not easy on anyone.
it wasn’t easy being apart- and it is a struggle in finding the balance between where we belong- who’s family we leave behind. perhaps giving up both and being our own little family, our own little country. but that still.. it isn’t easy on either of our mamas. and the holidays just make it plain shitty.
even so.
la la laaaa
i live in a magic land with my soul mate.
but when i have children, they will not be allowed to be in love with someone 5,000 miles away from me. nooope. sorry!
moving on.
i’ve been wanting to paint something for us. something meaningful for the process of letting go. whether that involves mourning, or giving up something that isn’t good for you… i want it to be very feminine and powerful, and gentle…and i want it to speak to many.
mamas of infertility, mamas of miscarriage, mamas of lost babies, mamas with hope, and beauty, and life. –of course they don’t have to represent mamas.. just the woman. -it’s just where my head space and heart space are right now.
we all have things to let go of, we all have things that we need to forgive. (ourselves mostly…)
anyway, i’ll share it with you whenever it comes.
i know that i have a lot of mamas and babies, and round bellies with ridiculously pointed nipples (which i love so). i’ve always been drawn to that- the mama. the body of a woman…
sometimes when i paint them (the mamas) i think of them as a symbol of hope to me. last night i realised that i have three pregnant bellied women in my bedroom- but nothing that represents all of this process to me, for me- and for other women.
if you have any ideas swirling in your head, drop me a line.
*oh also! some people have mentioned to me that they aren’t able to comment. if that is the case- please let me know! because i would love to hear from you. you can always contact me directly via the contact page form (it is a private message) or you can e-mail me at edarcy@starvingartistink.com
yes i know it says ‘i stink’…
sigh.
