Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Hello, world!
I stopped in tonight as I periodically do and I'm happy to see that there's still a little traffic here from time to time, but it probably means that other moms out there are going through some tough things. I'm very sad about that. My kids are growing. My job is very busy, but I love it! We just passed Noah's birthday which I still never forget. 8 years ago... Wow. All of our experiences (even the difficult ones) are learning opportunities. Thanks for reading a little of Noah's story in this blog, friends.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Telling Noah's Story
I was just thinking about how precious life is and how quickly and unexpectedly it can be taken away. I started thinking of my "ripple" on this earth and the lasting things I have done so far. This blog crossed my mind. It's nothing much. It has served as my own therapy more than anything else, but I check in on it from time to time. I am always so pleased to find that a couple of people have found their way here and looked around. I hope that every now and then someone finds something that is helpful to them in some way.
As I thought about this blog tonight, a post started to write itself in my mind. I have been meaning to come here and put it down for a few months and I'm happy to finally get it published.
Some months ago I had an opportunity to attend a town hall where Congresswoman Michele Bachmann was to make an appearance. I knew I couldn't pass it up. I don't think I share any common views with her so there are many things I'd love to tell her to do differently, but there is one thing in particular that I knew I would love to talk to her about and that's my beautiful first-born baby boy, Noah. I wanted to tell her the story of my "abortion." I don't think it's the typical story that most people imagine when they think of abortion, and I wanted the opportunity to get it out there. I knew it probably wouldn't change her views, but it was still important to me to tell it.
I walked in to that gathering with a plan to speak with her and I didn't waver. I didn't know exactly what I was going to say, but when I got through the crowd and stood close to her path, I was ready. I could feel the tears coming to my eyes as I said, "Hello, I'm here to tell you about my son and my abortion." I don't think she expected that opening! I proceeded to tell her Noah's story as briefly as I could. I tried my best to hit my points. I cried as I spoke. I told her that she is on a mission to limit the choices of moms like me. I wasn't irresponsible, unmarried, uneducated, young, reckless, unwilling to accept a baby with special needs... I wasn't any of those things. My abortion wasn't violent. I was induced and I gave birth as any mother does. I told Congresswoman Bachmann that I wanted my son, but that he wouldn't have survived. My health may have suffered in the process of carrying him too, and it wouldn't have changed the outcome of my pregnancy. I asked her to think about women like me when she makes decisions. I asked her if she would want the government to step in if she was in my shoes. It's such a foreign thought - you just get the news that your baby will not survive and then you are told that if you don't hurry and decide what to do, the government will decide for you. Furthermore, you may need to travel if you want to be induced now because your state government may stop you. For as much as the Tea Party talks of minimal government, this doesn't sound like government staying out of our lives to me.
She looked me in the eye, she appeared to listen, and for that I was happy. I know I didn't change her views, but I hope that for a small second I made her think. If not, I still accomplished what I set out to do. I told Noah's story again. I made his life and my experience count. I felt satisfied.
I have seen many other women go through a Triploidy diagnosis and I have seen many paths that can be taken from there. Everyone has to choose their own way, but I can still say today that I wouldn't change what I did. My son was set free from his broken body. I was set free to mourn and eventually look forward to the future and start again. It was the right thing for me, and that's why I think that women deserve the right to choose.
Although I don't blog much, I am here from time to time checking in. Thank you for stopping by. I hope there is something here that is helpful in some small way. That's Noah's legacy. If you have lost a baby, make a ripple. Let the world know that they were here. Make their brief life important. It feels good.
As I thought about this blog tonight, a post started to write itself in my mind. I have been meaning to come here and put it down for a few months and I'm happy to finally get it published.
Some months ago I had an opportunity to attend a town hall where Congresswoman Michele Bachmann was to make an appearance. I knew I couldn't pass it up. I don't think I share any common views with her so there are many things I'd love to tell her to do differently, but there is one thing in particular that I knew I would love to talk to her about and that's my beautiful first-born baby boy, Noah. I wanted to tell her the story of my "abortion." I don't think it's the typical story that most people imagine when they think of abortion, and I wanted the opportunity to get it out there. I knew it probably wouldn't change her views, but it was still important to me to tell it.
I walked in to that gathering with a plan to speak with her and I didn't waver. I didn't know exactly what I was going to say, but when I got through the crowd and stood close to her path, I was ready. I could feel the tears coming to my eyes as I said, "Hello, I'm here to tell you about my son and my abortion." I don't think she expected that opening! I proceeded to tell her Noah's story as briefly as I could. I tried my best to hit my points. I cried as I spoke. I told her that she is on a mission to limit the choices of moms like me. I wasn't irresponsible, unmarried, uneducated, young, reckless, unwilling to accept a baby with special needs... I wasn't any of those things. My abortion wasn't violent. I was induced and I gave birth as any mother does. I told Congresswoman Bachmann that I wanted my son, but that he wouldn't have survived. My health may have suffered in the process of carrying him too, and it wouldn't have changed the outcome of my pregnancy. I asked her to think about women like me when she makes decisions. I asked her if she would want the government to step in if she was in my shoes. It's such a foreign thought - you just get the news that your baby will not survive and then you are told that if you don't hurry and decide what to do, the government will decide for you. Furthermore, you may need to travel if you want to be induced now because your state government may stop you. For as much as the Tea Party talks of minimal government, this doesn't sound like government staying out of our lives to me.
She looked me in the eye, she appeared to listen, and for that I was happy. I know I didn't change her views, but I hope that for a small second I made her think. If not, I still accomplished what I set out to do. I told Noah's story again. I made his life and my experience count. I felt satisfied.
I have seen many other women go through a Triploidy diagnosis and I have seen many paths that can be taken from there. Everyone has to choose their own way, but I can still say today that I wouldn't change what I did. My son was set free from his broken body. I was set free to mourn and eventually look forward to the future and start again. It was the right thing for me, and that's why I think that women deserve the right to choose.
Although I don't blog much, I am here from time to time checking in. Thank you for stopping by. I hope there is something here that is helpful in some small way. That's Noah's legacy. If you have lost a baby, make a ripple. Let the world know that they were here. Make their brief life important. It feels good.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
6 Years Old
My little Noah,
You would have turned 6 last month! It's hard to imagine what it would be like to have a 6 year old boy around here. It certainly would have changed our family! We might have more Legos and train sets than Barbies and My Little Ponies. Your little brother, he's coming up just fine, but he doesn't have those things yet. He's still into his teethers and rattles. You would have loved this life, Noah. Your siblings are amazing little people. You mom and dad are happy and so filled with joy about this journey our family is on. Even in times that we are faced with stressful challenges, we know that we will be ok no matter what because we have been so blessed. You blessed us. There's a lot of love here, son. Your spirit is still here. Even though we long for you to be here with us now, we know that your journey here was meant to be short. God had his plans for you and for us, and we trust Him. We miss you, and we thank you for being such a great teacher.
Love, Mom
Thank you God for these three little lives I carried. Each of them has made me better. Amen.
You would have turned 6 last month! It's hard to imagine what it would be like to have a 6 year old boy around here. It certainly would have changed our family! We might have more Legos and train sets than Barbies and My Little Ponies. Your little brother, he's coming up just fine, but he doesn't have those things yet. He's still into his teethers and rattles. You would have loved this life, Noah. Your siblings are amazing little people. You mom and dad are happy and so filled with joy about this journey our family is on. Even in times that we are faced with stressful challenges, we know that we will be ok no matter what because we have been so blessed. You blessed us. There's a lot of love here, son. Your spirit is still here. Even though we long for you to be here with us now, we know that your journey here was meant to be short. God had his plans for you and for us, and we trust Him. We miss you, and we thank you for being such a great teacher.
Love, Mom
Thank you God for these three little lives I carried. Each of them has made me better. Amen.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Take a picture. It will last longer.
Tonight I am thinking of my first son and the people he still brings into my life. His birth bonds me to other baby loss moms. It's not the kind of club you'd clamor to be a part of, but it's a close knit community just the same.
In recent months I have heard about two moms losing their babies. Their situations were similar to mine, but our birth experiences differed. While I believe that I can understand some of what their losses feel like, I can't say that I know exactly what their grief feels like.
Giving advice on something like baby loss is very difficult. Each person has a very personal journey. I don't think everyone needs the same things. It's also hard to know what anything other than your own ordeal was like. I liken it to something else I've been asked a lot about recently - being an only child. I can talk a lot about how I think it has shaped me, but I'll never know what it's like to have siblings so I can't really compare it to anything. In this same way, I can offer advice here, but I can't assume that there is a one-size-fits-all answer either. Still, I will offer up one thing here: if you are opting for elective induction (and I would recommend that if you aren't just letting your labor begin on it's own), take pictures. Create memories. I have said this when I posted my series on my birth experience, and I'm saying it again now.
I know, I know. It feels strange to create memories of such a traumatic thing, but when I hear about moms without keepsakes, it breaks my heart. I was told that I'd want pictures when I was planning Noah's birth. I resisted the idea. It felt wrong. Sad. Scary. I felt like I was afraid to even look at him in the first place, so taking pictures was certainly a foreign concept. However, I'm really glad that I took the advice I was given. I want to pass it on here. I might be wrong, but I suspect that it would benefit most people in their grieving process. I haven't looked my pictures of Noah much, but they are there when I want them. That's invaluable. You know what else? I find that it validates his life for me. He existed. He was important. I can honor him by facing him once in awhile and remembering him exactly as he was.
It's strange how time softens certain memories, and I can be honest with myself and say that it's true for me. The things I endured seem like they happened in another lifetime in some ways, yet those things are a constant part of who I am today. He's always with me. I can barely type these things without tears welling up in my eyes. It's distant yet fresh at the same time. Looking back on my grief makes it seem like it was a quick, efficient process. I know that's not true. Time has done that to my many memories. Still, I think it was made more efficient because of the keepsakes I have. I didn't realize it at the time, but I don't want to forget.
For all of the baby loss moms who have their little ones only in their memories, I'm thinking of you. You might feel that you've made the right choice in not having tangible keepsakes and who am I to argue? I'm sure that it works for many. It's just not for me. For those who have regrets, I'm so sorry. Some decisions in life are irreversible and this is one of them. Please don't beat yourself up. You made the decision to the best of your ability at the time and that's all that you can expect of yourself. You can still heal. You can. For the moms who are just facing a diagnosis and who are planning the arrival of their angels right now, I urge you to create keepsakes. Take pictures. Get a hat you can place on your baby that you will keep. Baptize or bathe your little one. Wrap them in a special blanket that you'll keep. Sing a special song that you can remember as yours together. Make memories. This might seem like something you won't want to remember, but my best guess is that most people will feel as I do. Five years on, you will treasure those memories. For me, they have been essential to healing.
In recent months I have heard about two moms losing their babies. Their situations were similar to mine, but our birth experiences differed. While I believe that I can understand some of what their losses feel like, I can't say that I know exactly what their grief feels like.
Giving advice on something like baby loss is very difficult. Each person has a very personal journey. I don't think everyone needs the same things. It's also hard to know what anything other than your own ordeal was like. I liken it to something else I've been asked a lot about recently - being an only child. I can talk a lot about how I think it has shaped me, but I'll never know what it's like to have siblings so I can't really compare it to anything. In this same way, I can offer advice here, but I can't assume that there is a one-size-fits-all answer either. Still, I will offer up one thing here: if you are opting for elective induction (and I would recommend that if you aren't just letting your labor begin on it's own), take pictures. Create memories. I have said this when I posted my series on my birth experience, and I'm saying it again now.
I know, I know. It feels strange to create memories of such a traumatic thing, but when I hear about moms without keepsakes, it breaks my heart. I was told that I'd want pictures when I was planning Noah's birth. I resisted the idea. It felt wrong. Sad. Scary. I felt like I was afraid to even look at him in the first place, so taking pictures was certainly a foreign concept. However, I'm really glad that I took the advice I was given. I want to pass it on here. I might be wrong, but I suspect that it would benefit most people in their grieving process. I haven't looked my pictures of Noah much, but they are there when I want them. That's invaluable. You know what else? I find that it validates his life for me. He existed. He was important. I can honor him by facing him once in awhile and remembering him exactly as he was.
It's strange how time softens certain memories, and I can be honest with myself and say that it's true for me. The things I endured seem like they happened in another lifetime in some ways, yet those things are a constant part of who I am today. He's always with me. I can barely type these things without tears welling up in my eyes. It's distant yet fresh at the same time. Looking back on my grief makes it seem like it was a quick, efficient process. I know that's not true. Time has done that to my many memories. Still, I think it was made more efficient because of the keepsakes I have. I didn't realize it at the time, but I don't want to forget.
For all of the baby loss moms who have their little ones only in their memories, I'm thinking of you. You might feel that you've made the right choice in not having tangible keepsakes and who am I to argue? I'm sure that it works for many. It's just not for me. For those who have regrets, I'm so sorry. Some decisions in life are irreversible and this is one of them. Please don't beat yourself up. You made the decision to the best of your ability at the time and that's all that you can expect of yourself. You can still heal. You can. For the moms who are just facing a diagnosis and who are planning the arrival of their angels right now, I urge you to create keepsakes. Take pictures. Get a hat you can place on your baby that you will keep. Baptize or bathe your little one. Wrap them in a special blanket that you'll keep. Sing a special song that you can remember as yours together. Make memories. This might seem like something you won't want to remember, but my best guess is that most people will feel as I do. Five years on, you will treasure those memories. For me, they have been essential to healing.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Oh dear...
My goodness! Has it really been 3 months since I have checked in? I wrote a long post about breastfeeding a few weeks ago, saved it, and then wondered who would want to hear so much about my breasts so I never published it. Now here we are!
My inactivity is a symptom of working again. It's simple: 2 kids + work - sleep = no time. We are also looking at homes. I'm finding the process to be very stressful as we are currently planning on listing our home for sale only after we buy something. Why take such a huge risk? Well, we've already been looking for two months without any luck, and I just couldn't see paying rent instead of paying down our mortgage each month. Besides, moving twice would be a pain. I don't even want to think about the work that will be involved if we actually make this leap. Cleaning and preparing our home to be shown, packing, moving, finding daycare... It's all overwhelming. I'm going to be Scarlett O'Hara and think about all of this tomorrow!
We can add to our to-do list some minor surgery for 3 of our 4 family members in the coming months, but don't worry! We're all ok! Well, except for the fact that four children at my daughter's daycare have now had the pukes. Oh yes, it's coming. I predict a fun 4th of July weekend. You know, I found a good amount of cash on the floor at Target a few months ago and I turned it in at the service counter. I'm still waiting to cash in on the good karma I figure I'm due. Hello? Karma? Yup, don't forget about me! Can we get pay back in the form of avoiding this yucky stomach bug? I'd really appreciate it.
I do have to take a moment to admit that I am totally in love with this baby boy we've got. Oh, he is just so sweet. Even when he's, you know, pooping out of his diaper 4 times a day and wanting to be held all.the.time. He's adorable, strong, and smiley quite often which is a bonus. You wouldn't have been able to convince me that babies might actually be happy sometimes when my daughter was this age. She was a much tougher baby than he's proving to be. Thank goodness!
So dear readers, that's my overdue update. Now you must excuse me while I shower, pump, prepare bottles, wash pump parts, eat, and fall into bed so I can do it all over again starting around 4:45 am tomorrow. It's a glamorous life, I know.
My inactivity is a symptom of working again. It's simple: 2 kids + work - sleep = no time. We are also looking at homes. I'm finding the process to be very stressful as we are currently planning on listing our home for sale only after we buy something. Why take such a huge risk? Well, we've already been looking for two months without any luck, and I just couldn't see paying rent instead of paying down our mortgage each month. Besides, moving twice would be a pain. I don't even want to think about the work that will be involved if we actually make this leap. Cleaning and preparing our home to be shown, packing, moving, finding daycare... It's all overwhelming. I'm going to be Scarlett O'Hara and think about all of this tomorrow!
We can add to our to-do list some minor surgery for 3 of our 4 family members in the coming months, but don't worry! We're all ok! Well, except for the fact that four children at my daughter's daycare have now had the pukes. Oh yes, it's coming. I predict a fun 4th of July weekend. You know, I found a good amount of cash on the floor at Target a few months ago and I turned it in at the service counter. I'm still waiting to cash in on the good karma I figure I'm due. Hello? Karma? Yup, don't forget about me! Can we get pay back in the form of avoiding this yucky stomach bug? I'd really appreciate it.
I do have to take a moment to admit that I am totally in love with this baby boy we've got. Oh, he is just so sweet. Even when he's, you know, pooping out of his diaper 4 times a day and wanting to be held all.the.time. He's adorable, strong, and smiley quite often which is a bonus. You wouldn't have been able to convince me that babies might actually be happy sometimes when my daughter was this age. She was a much tougher baby than he's proving to be. Thank goodness!
So dear readers, that's my overdue update. Now you must excuse me while I shower, pump, prepare bottles, wash pump parts, eat, and fall into bed so I can do it all over again starting around 4:45 am tomorrow. It's a glamorous life, I know.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Updates
So many things have happened with my family in the last couple of months. I don't know where to begin!
Our little boy has arrived! While the active part of labor was fairly quick, the start of my labor was not. I had been experiencing pressure for quite awhile, but I never identified it as labor. I assumed that he was just dropping.
Then one night I was telling my husband about it and he thought that we should time them to see if there was a regular pattern. We discovered that I was feeling pressure every two to three minutes! After a call to the birthing center, we decided to call my husband's brother to come over to babysit and we headed out to the hospital.
When we arrived, I was hooked up to monitors and we discovered after several hours that while I was having regular contractions, I wasn't dilating. Even though I was a few weeks early, they weren't going to stop my contractions. At the same time, they didn't want to induce me either. We went home. I was still contracting from time to time but nothing was regular.
A little more than a week passed when the contractions became regular once again and we headed back to the hospital. We found out once again that the contractions weren't doing much to get me dilated. We went home again, but things just continued to get more intense. I couldn't sleep. I was terribly uncomfortable. We decided to return to the hospital a third time in the morning. This time we found that things were moving along! Everything progressed beautifully and my son was born by early afternoon with less than an hour of pushing. Hallelujah!
The last few weeks have been a blur of diaper changes, late night feedings, and household chores. The one thing that is clear through my tired haze is that I'm totally in love with this little boy! I was so uptight with my daughter. I'm much more relaxed this time. Even when I'm exhausted in the middle of the night, there are times when I don't want to put him down. I could stare at him for hours! I'm alarmed by how fast he's already growing! With as hard as it is for me to get pregnant, we know that this is our last baby. I'm trying to savor every moment.
On a sad note, my husband lost his father in the middle of all of this. I had written about him once before here:
http://mystorytour.blogspot.com/2010/05/another-sign.html
(I'm not good enough at HTML to make a link here!)
I was so sad to know that he just missed seeing his grandson by just a few short weeks. While we were planning his funeral, a thought crept into my head... A little box in my basement still housed the ashes of my first born son, Noah. We never could figure out what to do with his ashes. There was a little drawer in my father-in-law's casket for keepsakes and special things. My father-in-law loved my first son so much even though he never got to meet him. There could be no better place to put my son to rest than with his Grandpa. With permission from my husband's mother, we passed a small, light blue organza pouch filled with my son's remains to the funeral director and watched as he was tucked it in to the small drawer in the casket. Watching the casket close meant so much more to me because while we were saying a final goodbye to my husband's father, we were also saying a goodbye to our first son. What's even more strange is the fact that this burial and the subsequent birth of our second son happened within days of the five year anniversary of Noah's passing. It all seemed fitting. Now I know where my son is resting and I have a place to visit that isn't next to my washing machine. I knew we'd find a place for him someday, and I'm at peace.
Tonight I'm thinking of all of those moms out there with angel babies like mine. I remembered again during this pregnancy that we can never be the same after losing a baby. Even with the years that have passed, I spent this pregnancy fighting the urge to be somewhat detached. It feels dangerous to assume that pregnancy will bring a baby. I would find myself getting new clothes for my son and keeping the tags on them. "I can return them if something happens..." Then I would be surprised at myself for having those thoughts. The experience of losing a child leaves scars that don't heal, but I wouldn't change anything that got me here. I love my family - all three of my kids. As soon as this third and last child of mine was born and named (yes, he is named, but I'm not sharing!), I ordered a hand stamped necklace with the names of my husband and my kids so I can always keep them close to my heart. Moms of angel babies: I promise that you will find peace. You won't ever forget. You won't ever be the same, but you will find peace. I am praying for your peace tonight.
Our little boy has arrived! While the active part of labor was fairly quick, the start of my labor was not. I had been experiencing pressure for quite awhile, but I never identified it as labor. I assumed that he was just dropping.
Then one night I was telling my husband about it and he thought that we should time them to see if there was a regular pattern. We discovered that I was feeling pressure every two to three minutes! After a call to the birthing center, we decided to call my husband's brother to come over to babysit and we headed out to the hospital.When we arrived, I was hooked up to monitors and we discovered after several hours that while I was having regular contractions, I wasn't dilating. Even though I was a few weeks early, they weren't going to stop my contractions. At the same time, they didn't want to induce me either. We went home. I was still contracting from time to time but nothing was regular.
A little more than a week passed when the contractions became regular once again and we headed back to the hospital. We found out once again that the contractions weren't doing much to get me dilated. We went home again, but things just continued to get more intense. I couldn't sleep. I was terribly uncomfortable. We decided to return to the hospital a third time in the morning. This time we found that things were moving along! Everything progressed beautifully and my son was born by early afternoon with less than an hour of pushing. Hallelujah!
The last few weeks have been a blur of diaper changes, late night feedings, and household chores. The one thing that is clear through my tired haze is that I'm totally in love with this little boy! I was so uptight with my daughter. I'm much more relaxed this time. Even when I'm exhausted in the middle of the night, there are times when I don't want to put him down. I could stare at him for hours! I'm alarmed by how fast he's already growing! With as hard as it is for me to get pregnant, we know that this is our last baby. I'm trying to savor every moment.
On a sad note, my husband lost his father in the middle of all of this. I had written about him once before here:
http://mystorytour.blogspot.com/2010/05/another-sign.html
(I'm not good enough at HTML to make a link here!)
I was so sad to know that he just missed seeing his grandson by just a few short weeks. While we were planning his funeral, a thought crept into my head... A little box in my basement still housed the ashes of my first born son, Noah. We never could figure out what to do with his ashes. There was a little drawer in my father-in-law's casket for keepsakes and special things. My father-in-law loved my first son so much even though he never got to meet him. There could be no better place to put my son to rest than with his Grandpa. With permission from my husband's mother, we passed a small, light blue organza pouch filled with my son's remains to the funeral director and watched as he was tucked it in to the small drawer in the casket. Watching the casket close meant so much more to me because while we were saying a final goodbye to my husband's father, we were also saying a goodbye to our first son. What's even more strange is the fact that this burial and the subsequent birth of our second son happened within days of the five year anniversary of Noah's passing. It all seemed fitting. Now I know where my son is resting and I have a place to visit that isn't next to my washing machine. I knew we'd find a place for him someday, and I'm at peace.
Tonight I'm thinking of all of those moms out there with angel babies like mine. I remembered again during this pregnancy that we can never be the same after losing a baby. Even with the years that have passed, I spent this pregnancy fighting the urge to be somewhat detached. It feels dangerous to assume that pregnancy will bring a baby. I would find myself getting new clothes for my son and keeping the tags on them. "I can return them if something happens..." Then I would be surprised at myself for having those thoughts. The experience of losing a child leaves scars that don't heal, but I wouldn't change anything that got me here. I love my family - all three of my kids. As soon as this third and last child of mine was born and named (yes, he is named, but I'm not sharing!), I ordered a hand stamped necklace with the names of my husband and my kids so I can always keep them close to my heart. Moms of angel babies: I promise that you will find peace. You won't ever forget. You won't ever be the same, but you will find peace. I am praying for your peace tonight.
Monday, January 10, 2011
too tired...
Random ramblings tonight:
I'm too tired to blog! It seems that I'm a once-a-month blogger. Not much to say these days. I'm uncomfortable. I'm wondering when baby will come considering the fact that my daughter was 4 weeks early. We'll see what the doctor has to say this week. I think I've gained more weight this time, but I'm trying not to think about it. I'm hoping that a few months of successful breastfeeding will counteract it. I'm also hoping that breastfeeding is a bit less stressful this time, but I'm realistic. I don't think it's exactly like riding a bike. I'm starting to worry about the unknown as I approach this birth. One never knows how it will play out and I have another child to make arrangements for this time. It adds a bit of extra stress. I can tend to be a worrier. I'm trying to stop!
I'm not sure on the name... or circumcising. I wish I had decisions in those areas. All I know is that there is a huge list of care instructions in my booklet for a circumcised boy and also warnings about rare but serious complications. It's like listening to the fast talking at the end of those drug commercials. "In rare cases serious side effects may occur..." Freaks me out. The care instructions in my booklet for not circumcising? Don't retract the foreskin. Wait for it to retract around age 3. Teach your child to clean the area. Seems simple and safe. Names and circumcising. Two big decisions that will affect my child for life. I guess it makes sense that I'd struggle with those things! One thing I have learned in the last 3 years is that there are no right answers to this parenting thing. Whatever decision you made - totally right for you. Not to be judged. Maybe we need more new mom politicians in Washington. I think us moms know that there are many ways do things. We learn that it would never make sense to criticize another mom and her methods!
Did I mention that I'm excited to meet this active baby? He's so much different than my daughter already. He's a mover and he's trying to stretch out in there. Ouch! He's such an amazing gift. I will try to remember that in a few weeks when I'm so tired that I burst into tears when he wakes me up in the middle of the night. The time when they are little is short. It's hard, but it's rewarding. Remind me of that when I'm tired! A boy. Wow. This will be new!
Off to bed now. (Until I wake up at 2 am to go to the bathroom!)
I'm too tired to blog! It seems that I'm a once-a-month blogger. Not much to say these days. I'm uncomfortable. I'm wondering when baby will come considering the fact that my daughter was 4 weeks early. We'll see what the doctor has to say this week. I think I've gained more weight this time, but I'm trying not to think about it. I'm hoping that a few months of successful breastfeeding will counteract it. I'm also hoping that breastfeeding is a bit less stressful this time, but I'm realistic. I don't think it's exactly like riding a bike. I'm starting to worry about the unknown as I approach this birth. One never knows how it will play out and I have another child to make arrangements for this time. It adds a bit of extra stress. I can tend to be a worrier. I'm trying to stop!
I'm not sure on the name... or circumcising. I wish I had decisions in those areas. All I know is that there is a huge list of care instructions in my booklet for a circumcised boy and also warnings about rare but serious complications. It's like listening to the fast talking at the end of those drug commercials. "In rare cases serious side effects may occur..." Freaks me out. The care instructions in my booklet for not circumcising? Don't retract the foreskin. Wait for it to retract around age 3. Teach your child to clean the area. Seems simple and safe. Names and circumcising. Two big decisions that will affect my child for life. I guess it makes sense that I'd struggle with those things! One thing I have learned in the last 3 years is that there are no right answers to this parenting thing. Whatever decision you made - totally right for you. Not to be judged. Maybe we need more new mom politicians in Washington. I think us moms know that there are many ways do things. We learn that it would never make sense to criticize another mom and her methods!
Did I mention that I'm excited to meet this active baby? He's so much different than my daughter already. He's a mover and he's trying to stretch out in there. Ouch! He's such an amazing gift. I will try to remember that in a few weeks when I'm so tired that I burst into tears when he wakes me up in the middle of the night. The time when they are little is short. It's hard, but it's rewarding. Remind me of that when I'm tired! A boy. Wow. This will be new!
Off to bed now. (Until I wake up at 2 am to go to the bathroom!)
Thursday, December 9, 2010
On being a woman
I had a rough day. Having a rough day coupled with pregnancy hormones makes for quite an adventure.
I was busy and stressed at work. It happens quite often. The end of the day came, but I was left with a bit of important work to finish. The call goes out to my husband. "Where are you? Can you make it to daycare in time to pick up?" He informed me that he was slightly behind schedule. No "extra 5 minutes" for me. Time to head out.
I was in tears not long into my drive home. Yesterday my husband called me at work to inform me that he was 45 minutes beyond the end of his shift and hadn't left work yet. It was stated as a fact, and the message was clear. I was required to pick up from daycare. It's true that he doesn't have a very easy time controlling exactly when he's able to get home because of traffic and weather, and these things don't affect my travels quite as much. I did my motherly duty and made sure to pick up right on time. Comparing his experiences and mine from yesterday evening to today, I realized how hard it is to be a woman. In the time since I've had a child, I don't remember a time where my husband was required to pick up from daycare. In other words, I don't remember ever calling to inform him that I was already too late to do the task. This assumption that I will cover when his career gets him tied up was one of the things that set me off today.
Let's rewind a bit. Just over a year ago I had an opportunity for some change and growth in my career. It happened to come right around the time we had planned to start up our fertility treatments and expand our family. These were tough decisions for me. I liked what I was doing just fine, but I wanted to make sure I was moving forward and building some experience at work. The opportunity required some travel initially, and it would likely cause issues with timing the required appointments in our fertility cycles. After much thought, we delayed our family plans slightly so I could move forward a bit at work.
Now back to current times. Taking advantage of opportunities has led me to the edge of what I believe to me more opportunity in the near future. This time I'm pregnant. There is no room to discuss. Our family is expanding! Although I work with women who have kids and although the law protects pregnant women from discrimination, it's obvious that my current state could potentially impact my ability to progress. When there is growth happening, a company need someone who can be there. I can't hide the fact that I won't be there. Once again it is women who bear the weight (quite literally) of the family. We wear our inability to devote ourselves entirely to our jobs right on the front of our bodies as a reminder for our coworkers.
When I woke up my daughter this morning to get ready, she was in a funk. She seemed upset. When I asked her what was wrong, she informed me that had wanted to stay in bed and snuggle with me. I had to tell her that there is no time for such things on weekday mornings. She would have to wait and essentially schedule herself into mom's day. Talk about breaking a mom's heart! I wanted nothing more than to stop everything and get into bed with her. This is especially true in my last few months with just one baby. I couldn't snuggle her. While I did make up for it tonight with some special snuggle time, it sure made it hard for me to work today with a clear mind!
I'll admit that it's hard for a tired, pregnant woman to be fair about the division of labor in her family. I probably don't have the most rational views on life at the moment! After being sick for three months, gaining weight, losing sleep, and facing the prospect of birth followed by constant breastfeeding alone in the middle of the night while my husband slumbers peacefully, I feel frustrated. Then I remember a few things.
I remember that it's my family I will remember at the end of my life. I won't be looking at photo albums to remember my coworkers! I remember that being a woman brings opportunity too. I have known this baby boy for quite some time in a way that no one else can. I know he's active. I know he's up at night sometimes. I know he loves it when I eat sugary foods. When he stops moving around the moment my husband puts his hand on my belly, I know he will begin again a moment later and I will feel it. I get to feel it all the time. I know that in my blur of tiredness after his birth, there will be beautiful, quiet moments in the night when I feed my baby and share moments with him that my husband will inevitably miss. I know that I have achieved something that at one time I never thought I'd achieve. I have a family! What a blessing!
I have to give my husband some credit too. Although it sometimes feels like he assumes that his career is more important than mine, I know he doesn't mean it. He's an amazing person. I'm not an easy person to live with! While I lash out and make mean spirited comments sometimes, he refrains from attacking me. He continues to love me for who I am. He doesn't complain about sharing household chores like cooking and cleaning. He often does more than me in that arena, and that's especially true lately. He does his own laundry and always has. He somehow manages to share my views in life more than anyone I've ever met. We are universally on the same page.
I have so much to be thankful for. It's just that sometimes this life is still so hard. I think it's especially hard for women. In some ways I think we are betrayed by our biology. Being the givers of life yet living in the modern world sure makes me feel doubly burdened by responsibility sometimes. I don't think that men feel it in quite the same way as women. It's a unique experience with its good and bad aspects. I have one more thing I can be thankful for tonight. I can share these feelings with other women who understand how it feels and we can support one another.
I was busy and stressed at work. It happens quite often. The end of the day came, but I was left with a bit of important work to finish. The call goes out to my husband. "Where are you? Can you make it to daycare in time to pick up?" He informed me that he was slightly behind schedule. No "extra 5 minutes" for me. Time to head out.
I was in tears not long into my drive home. Yesterday my husband called me at work to inform me that he was 45 minutes beyond the end of his shift and hadn't left work yet. It was stated as a fact, and the message was clear. I was required to pick up from daycare. It's true that he doesn't have a very easy time controlling exactly when he's able to get home because of traffic and weather, and these things don't affect my travels quite as much. I did my motherly duty and made sure to pick up right on time. Comparing his experiences and mine from yesterday evening to today, I realized how hard it is to be a woman. In the time since I've had a child, I don't remember a time where my husband was required to pick up from daycare. In other words, I don't remember ever calling to inform him that I was already too late to do the task. This assumption that I will cover when his career gets him tied up was one of the things that set me off today.
Let's rewind a bit. Just over a year ago I had an opportunity for some change and growth in my career. It happened to come right around the time we had planned to start up our fertility treatments and expand our family. These were tough decisions for me. I liked what I was doing just fine, but I wanted to make sure I was moving forward and building some experience at work. The opportunity required some travel initially, and it would likely cause issues with timing the required appointments in our fertility cycles. After much thought, we delayed our family plans slightly so I could move forward a bit at work.
Now back to current times. Taking advantage of opportunities has led me to the edge of what I believe to me more opportunity in the near future. This time I'm pregnant. There is no room to discuss. Our family is expanding! Although I work with women who have kids and although the law protects pregnant women from discrimination, it's obvious that my current state could potentially impact my ability to progress. When there is growth happening, a company need someone who can be there. I can't hide the fact that I won't be there. Once again it is women who bear the weight (quite literally) of the family. We wear our inability to devote ourselves entirely to our jobs right on the front of our bodies as a reminder for our coworkers.
When I woke up my daughter this morning to get ready, she was in a funk. She seemed upset. When I asked her what was wrong, she informed me that had wanted to stay in bed and snuggle with me. I had to tell her that there is no time for such things on weekday mornings. She would have to wait and essentially schedule herself into mom's day. Talk about breaking a mom's heart! I wanted nothing more than to stop everything and get into bed with her. This is especially true in my last few months with just one baby. I couldn't snuggle her. While I did make up for it tonight with some special snuggle time, it sure made it hard for me to work today with a clear mind!
I'll admit that it's hard for a tired, pregnant woman to be fair about the division of labor in her family. I probably don't have the most rational views on life at the moment! After being sick for three months, gaining weight, losing sleep, and facing the prospect of birth followed by constant breastfeeding alone in the middle of the night while my husband slumbers peacefully, I feel frustrated. Then I remember a few things.
I remember that it's my family I will remember at the end of my life. I won't be looking at photo albums to remember my coworkers! I remember that being a woman brings opportunity too. I have known this baby boy for quite some time in a way that no one else can. I know he's active. I know he's up at night sometimes. I know he loves it when I eat sugary foods. When he stops moving around the moment my husband puts his hand on my belly, I know he will begin again a moment later and I will feel it. I get to feel it all the time. I know that in my blur of tiredness after his birth, there will be beautiful, quiet moments in the night when I feed my baby and share moments with him that my husband will inevitably miss. I know that I have achieved something that at one time I never thought I'd achieve. I have a family! What a blessing!
I have to give my husband some credit too. Although it sometimes feels like he assumes that his career is more important than mine, I know he doesn't mean it. He's an amazing person. I'm not an easy person to live with! While I lash out and make mean spirited comments sometimes, he refrains from attacking me. He continues to love me for who I am. He doesn't complain about sharing household chores like cooking and cleaning. He often does more than me in that arena, and that's especially true lately. He does his own laundry and always has. He somehow manages to share my views in life more than anyone I've ever met. We are universally on the same page.
I have so much to be thankful for. It's just that sometimes this life is still so hard. I think it's especially hard for women. In some ways I think we are betrayed by our biology. Being the givers of life yet living in the modern world sure makes me feel doubly burdened by responsibility sometimes. I don't think that men feel it in quite the same way as women. It's a unique experience with its good and bad aspects. I have one more thing I can be thankful for tonight. I can share these feelings with other women who understand how it feels and we can support one another.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Sleeping Arrangements
A coworker of mine and his wife are expecting a baby boy too. Their due date is only 2 days different than ours. He also has just one other child - a girl. Very similar! We were chatting about sleeping arrangements for kids the other day. They have decided to have their baby boy in their room for 5-6 months. Then they will be putting him in their 6 year old daughter's room indefinitely. He said that his 6 year old isn't ready to sleep in the basement yet, so they decided to have them share rooms for awhile.
The conversation got me to thinking about kids and their different levels of independence. How young is too young to have a child sleeping "far away" from you in the house? Do kids develop a fear of such things at a certain age? Is it a personality thing where some kids are scared but others never develop that fear? I'm curious about it! My guess is that it depends on the kid and it depends on the parents. What do you think?
The conversation got me to thinking about kids and their different levels of independence. How young is too young to have a child sleeping "far away" from you in the house? Do kids develop a fear of such things at a certain age? Is it a personality thing where some kids are scared but others never develop that fear? I'm curious about it! My guess is that it depends on the kid and it depends on the parents. What do you think?
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
It's a...
Hello, friends! I just wanted to let you know that the little bundle we are expecting is a boy! That leads me to an interesting debate. There was a big part of me that didn't want to face this decision, but I will soon face it... circumcision. I'd like to know (if anyone feels compelled to share). What did you do? I'm inclined to not do it. It seems largely cosmetic and unnecessary, but I've never raised a boy. Help! Weigh in if you feel like sharing. If not, I understand. It's kind of personal, isn't it? I don't think there is a right or wrong answer here. Decisions, decisions.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Working Mom
I found out today that our wonderful daycare family is moving. They have lived very close since our daughter was a baby. They aren't going far, but it is an added inconvenience. This is just one more event that is making me want to be home more. With my second child on the way, I long to be home more. No one can care for my kids like me, and I know that when I have to take this baby to daycare and drop him/her off, it's going to break my heart.
I have some hard things to think about. I'm almost positive that we can't make it financially without my income. I'm still determined to run the numbers, but I'm pretty sure I know how they will look. While we don't live an expensive lifestyle, neither of us really makes enough to support the family alone. I also don't think I want to stop my career for a period of time. I can't say that I've gotten very far with it, but I don't know if I want to close that door entirely when I'm actually working in the same field that I pursued during my education, and the same field I've been in for more than a decade.
Being a mom is hard. We give up a lot and we do it willingly. Our kids drive us crazy, but they make us love more than we ever thought possible. I want it all. I want my career and my family. I want them both full time. I can't seem to find the right balance. I keep thinking that there's something I'm overlooking. I hope I can figure it out soon.
I have some hard things to think about. I'm almost positive that we can't make it financially without my income. I'm still determined to run the numbers, but I'm pretty sure I know how they will look. While we don't live an expensive lifestyle, neither of us really makes enough to support the family alone. I also don't think I want to stop my career for a period of time. I can't say that I've gotten very far with it, but I don't know if I want to close that door entirely when I'm actually working in the same field that I pursued during my education, and the same field I've been in for more than a decade.
Being a mom is hard. We give up a lot and we do it willingly. Our kids drive us crazy, but they make us love more than we ever thought possible. I want it all. I want my career and my family. I want them both full time. I can't seem to find the right balance. I keep thinking that there's something I'm overlooking. I hope I can figure it out soon.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Summer is over!
I've been meaning to blog for so long. I thought I'd drop in tonight and leave a sloppy little post. You'll have to forgive me. I've been busy with a big project, and it forced me to take this rather lengthy break from my blog. I can't promise that I have much time now, but I'm going to try because I have so many thoughts to get off my chest. This is a good place for me to vent it all out into the cosmos. So... what is my big project? Well, I'm growing a little human! I'm going to be a mama again! Wow, that first trimester wiped me out. No blogging for me during all of that! I'm now into the second trimester. I'm not so sick, not quite so tired, but we are experiencing many changes in our lives that are still keeping me busy around the clock.
The basics... I'm pretty sure my diagnosis of Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome was wrong. My doctor wasn't a fan of that label and feels that the specialist was grasping at straws when he handed it down. Clearly there are some things that doctors can't account for. I was a few weeks pregnant while I was at the appointment and I didn't know it! We finished our fertility treatments in May and planned to take a break. We had an upcoming vacation and wanted to take time away from it all. We were going to talk about it all at the end of the summer and determine what to do next. We were very close to giving up. We did absolutely nothing medical in June. I never believed what people said about people getting pregnant the moment they adopted/quit trying etc. I guess they were right. I quit trying and I conceived! Well, we conceived anyway... I need to give my husband a little credit here!
So much to talk about, but not enough time tonight. I need to get to bed so I can keep this little babe growing!
The basics... I'm pretty sure my diagnosis of Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome was wrong. My doctor wasn't a fan of that label and feels that the specialist was grasping at straws when he handed it down. Clearly there are some things that doctors can't account for. I was a few weeks pregnant while I was at the appointment and I didn't know it! We finished our fertility treatments in May and planned to take a break. We had an upcoming vacation and wanted to take time away from it all. We were going to talk about it all at the end of the summer and determine what to do next. We were very close to giving up. We did absolutely nothing medical in June. I never believed what people said about people getting pregnant the moment they adopted/quit trying etc. I guess they were right. I quit trying and I conceived! Well, we conceived anyway... I need to give my husband a little credit here!
So much to talk about, but not enough time tonight. I need to get to bed so I can keep this little babe growing!
Monday, July 26, 2010
Beep!
The person who was managing this blog is on a little mental vacation. She is enjoying the weather, getting some sleep, organizing things, and making big plans with her family. She plan to rejoin this blog shortly. In the meantime, leave a message and she'll be sure to catch you up on her crazy, amazing life soon.
Beep!
Beep!
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Ignorance Isn't Bliss
I'm finally frustrated enough to comment on something I often think about: food. Don't worry, it's not too much of a rant! I'm not sure how I became passionate about food, but I did. Well, I guess I have an idea. Here's a story to bring us up to today:
Flash back to me in my mid-teens. On a family camping trip that brought us to multiple states, I ended up at a rodeo in Wyoming. I watched as the cowboys roped the calves. They were rough. They pushed them around, pulled them to the ground, and tied all of their feet together. I also watched them ride bulls who had been picked on to the point of anger. Something struck me. There was nothing kind or gentle about it. I had always loved animals of all kinds, and I felt really horrible watching them being treated like that. I cried. I told my mom that I wanted to be a vegetarian. She informed me that since she purchased our food and made our meals, this wasn't an option. I think she thought it was a phase.
Fast forward to college. Not long into my first year (and my 3-meal-a-day ticket), I realized that the meat in the college dining room wasn't the most appetizing I'd seen. I also had a new interest in my health, and began reading about diet. I decided to try cutting out red meat. It was pretty easy. Then I read something telling me about chicken and how it can be high in cholesterol - sometimes more than red meat. Chicken was cut out. Again, it was easy. The more I read, the more I learned. I was soon able to cut out the last meat: fish. And I liked fish. The more I cut out, the more I found to replace it. I realized I didn't miss any of it all that much. I lost a few pounds, and I felt good. It seemed to be a really positive change.
Now that I was officially "vegetarian," I turned my reading to vegetarian articles. I found so many reasons to keep up my eating habits. Cruelty, pollution, abuse, quality control issues in slaughterhouses... I became more and more certain that what I was doing was important.
That leads me to today. I am convinced that the biggest reason to be a vegetarian is a growing population and the inefficiency and pollution of the meat industry. While I wish most people would convert, I know it's probably not realistic. My wish is for people to decide that the earth can't sustain a supply for the level demand, so we should cut down. If everyone would eat one vegetarian meal a day, or have one vegetarian day a week, the difference would be significant. I'm passionate about this, and it frustrates me to no end that people don't know and don't care where their food comes from. How did it get to your plate? Please ask yourself this question!
I am actually proud to be known for having a little soap box that I like to pull out. I try not to do it often. People aren't interested in my opinion most of the time. I guess that's why I have this blog! I just get frustrated when people wave their hands in front of their face and tell me that they don't want to know. I feel that we can't afford to bury our heads in the sand. This isn't only true for diet. We need to pay attention to our world - to the people in charge. Too many people are waving their hands in the air and saying, "No, don't tell me. I don't want to know." Well, you have to know. I would rather someone listen to something and disagree with it than not listen at all. We owe it to ourselves to seek out truth and make conscious decisions based on it. It's not always convenient, but it's essential to life. I want to have a decent world to pass along to my kids. Don't you?
Flash back to me in my mid-teens. On a family camping trip that brought us to multiple states, I ended up at a rodeo in Wyoming. I watched as the cowboys roped the calves. They were rough. They pushed them around, pulled them to the ground, and tied all of their feet together. I also watched them ride bulls who had been picked on to the point of anger. Something struck me. There was nothing kind or gentle about it. I had always loved animals of all kinds, and I felt really horrible watching them being treated like that. I cried. I told my mom that I wanted to be a vegetarian. She informed me that since she purchased our food and made our meals, this wasn't an option. I think she thought it was a phase.
Fast forward to college. Not long into my first year (and my 3-meal-a-day ticket), I realized that the meat in the college dining room wasn't the most appetizing I'd seen. I also had a new interest in my health, and began reading about diet. I decided to try cutting out red meat. It was pretty easy. Then I read something telling me about chicken and how it can be high in cholesterol - sometimes more than red meat. Chicken was cut out. Again, it was easy. The more I read, the more I learned. I was soon able to cut out the last meat: fish. And I liked fish. The more I cut out, the more I found to replace it. I realized I didn't miss any of it all that much. I lost a few pounds, and I felt good. It seemed to be a really positive change.
Now that I was officially "vegetarian," I turned my reading to vegetarian articles. I found so many reasons to keep up my eating habits. Cruelty, pollution, abuse, quality control issues in slaughterhouses... I became more and more certain that what I was doing was important.
That leads me to today. I am convinced that the biggest reason to be a vegetarian is a growing population and the inefficiency and pollution of the meat industry. While I wish most people would convert, I know it's probably not realistic. My wish is for people to decide that the earth can't sustain a supply for the level demand, so we should cut down. If everyone would eat one vegetarian meal a day, or have one vegetarian day a week, the difference would be significant. I'm passionate about this, and it frustrates me to no end that people don't know and don't care where their food comes from. How did it get to your plate? Please ask yourself this question!
I am actually proud to be known for having a little soap box that I like to pull out. I try not to do it often. People aren't interested in my opinion most of the time. I guess that's why I have this blog! I just get frustrated when people wave their hands in front of their face and tell me that they don't want to know. I feel that we can't afford to bury our heads in the sand. This isn't only true for diet. We need to pay attention to our world - to the people in charge. Too many people are waving their hands in the air and saying, "No, don't tell me. I don't want to know." Well, you have to know. I would rather someone listen to something and disagree with it than not listen at all. We owe it to ourselves to seek out truth and make conscious decisions based on it. It's not always convenient, but it's essential to life. I want to have a decent world to pass along to my kids. Don't you?
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
A Long Night
Tonight was challenging. My daughter seemed to make it her goal to break me. She wouldn't come home with me when it was time to leave daycare. She battered me with kicks as I tried to put her shoes on. She had a time out in the daycare lady's kitchen before we could even get out the door. When we got in the door at home, she wouldn't remove her shoes or come upstairs. I walked away. She eventually came up. She wouldn't sit up to eat, so she spent 3 minutes in her bed awaiting the oven timer as a cue to come out. Normally she watches one cartoon each night if we get done eating in time. The requirement is that we use the bathroom prior to the show. Are you getting the pattern here? Yes, she wouldn't use the bathroom so we didn't watch any cartoons. She didn't seem to care. She'd much rather disobey than watch a cartoon.
Bedtime was the same. A toothbrush with toothpaste was met with thrashing head and pursed lips. A final bathroom trip resulted in a bottom hovering over the seat because sitting down would represent some type of defeat. When it was time to put on pajamas I had a limp noodle. I was done. I picked up my fully clothed child and put her in her bed. I slammed the door behind me. She was perfectly content in there. She was ready to sleep in her clothes. I wasn't ok.
I sat down and cried. I cried because I didn't have any enjoyable time with my daughter tonight. I cried because sometimes I feel like a toddler has me beat. I cried because I'm tired. I cried because I worry about my ability to successfully parent. I cried because I want my daughter to be the best that she can be, but I'm not sure how to make that happen sometimes.
About ten minutes after I left the room, I went back. I asked her to put on her pajamas. She reluctantly agreed. I asked her to use the bathroom - for real. She did. I wondered if she thinks that I regard her as "naughty." I don't like that word. I think it can be a self-fulfilling prophecy. I sat her down on my lap and asked her if she thinks she is a good girl or a bad girl. "Good girl," she answered. Ok, good. I told her that I think she's a very good girl too but sometimes it's hard to spend time with my good girl when she makes the choice to disobey. I told her that my night isn't as much fun without my best girl acting as Mommy's Helper. We had a little talk. I told her that I love her. I felt better. I hope somehow that she felt better too.
This was a rough night. I did my best. It's amazing that we are challenged so much as parents and we feel like we are at our wit's end, but a small kiss on the cheek at the end of the night makes it worthwhile. I can only hope that the sum of my days with her end up giving her a feeling of positive self esteem and a sense of responsibility. All I can do is my best.
Bedtime was the same. A toothbrush with toothpaste was met with thrashing head and pursed lips. A final bathroom trip resulted in a bottom hovering over the seat because sitting down would represent some type of defeat. When it was time to put on pajamas I had a limp noodle. I was done. I picked up my fully clothed child and put her in her bed. I slammed the door behind me. She was perfectly content in there. She was ready to sleep in her clothes. I wasn't ok.
I sat down and cried. I cried because I didn't have any enjoyable time with my daughter tonight. I cried because sometimes I feel like a toddler has me beat. I cried because I'm tired. I cried because I worry about my ability to successfully parent. I cried because I want my daughter to be the best that she can be, but I'm not sure how to make that happen sometimes.
About ten minutes after I left the room, I went back. I asked her to put on her pajamas. She reluctantly agreed. I asked her to use the bathroom - for real. She did. I wondered if she thinks that I regard her as "naughty." I don't like that word. I think it can be a self-fulfilling prophecy. I sat her down on my lap and asked her if she thinks she is a good girl or a bad girl. "Good girl," she answered. Ok, good. I told her that I think she's a very good girl too but sometimes it's hard to spend time with my good girl when she makes the choice to disobey. I told her that my night isn't as much fun without my best girl acting as Mommy's Helper. We had a little talk. I told her that I love her. I felt better. I hope somehow that she felt better too.
This was a rough night. I did my best. It's amazing that we are challenged so much as parents and we feel like we are at our wit's end, but a small kiss on the cheek at the end of the night makes it worthwhile. I can only hope that the sum of my days with her end up giving her a feeling of positive self esteem and a sense of responsibility. All I can do is my best.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Not Me Monday
Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week .
I did not tell my child that it was bedtime when it was really much earlier in order to take advantage of the fact that she can't yet tell time. Then I did not proceed to use that extra time drink wine with the neighbors on a week night and talk about how long my baby monitor range will allow me to go.
I would never allow more days between my daughter's baths because I've been feeling particularly lazy in the evening.
I certainly didn't lie on the couch and snooze a bit while my husband cleaned the bathroom. I would never let him work while I rest!
Life is always crazy around here, so I have been sneaking in any "me-time" I can!
Check out MckMama and find out what other moms don't do!
I did not tell my child that it was bedtime when it was really much earlier in order to take advantage of the fact that she can't yet tell time. Then I did not proceed to use that extra time drink wine with the neighbors on a week night and talk about how long my baby monitor range will allow me to go.
I would never allow more days between my daughter's baths because I've been feeling particularly lazy in the evening.
I certainly didn't lie on the couch and snooze a bit while my husband cleaned the bathroom. I would never let him work while I rest!
Life is always crazy around here, so I have been sneaking in any "me-time" I can!
Check out MckMama and find out what other moms don't do!
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Summer Fun
It's clear that this blog is going to have to be sparse during these summer months. We only get a few truly nice days, and I plan to spend them having fun!
Last weekend we went to Toy Story 3 as a family. It was our first attempt at a movie with my daughter, and she did very well. We also visited a splash pad, and took a long bike ride (which prompted me to purchase a softer seat. All I can say is: "I'm old." and "Ouch!")
We were able to attend a "Gotcha Party" for a little girl too. I had no idea what this was, but google helped. Adoptive families sometimes celebrate the day their adoptions became final, or the the day they officially "got" their child. It's a great idea, and the party was at the home of some dear friends of ours who really know how to entertain in style. What a fabulous weekend!
Monday brought with it our appointment at the fertility doctor. It's difficult to sum up the feelings I have about it. In the first five minutes, we had discovered my diagnosis. Finally. This diagnosis has never been spoken to me, hinted at, or even attempted until now. It was sureal to hear it after having spent years of my life only knowing that something is wrong, but not knowing what it is. The diagnosis was Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (also known as PCOS). The doctor seemed to feel that I'm a textbook case of PCOS, so I was surprised that no one has ever made this connection before. He never ran any tests or examined me. He simply read the same medical records that have been in front of my doctors for years. I was relieved and angry at the same time.
The doctor went on the explain how PCOS works, and how it affects your life. As I sit here tonight, I still have yet to google it (and I'm amazed at my restraint thus far!), but apparently this syndrome results from a chronic imbalance of hormones. Because these hormones are out of their normal ranges, I don't produce eggs. When I do (usually with the aid of medication), the eggs are poor quality. This can result in a higher chance of birth defects and miscarriage, and they have a medication to help correct this. Huh. That hit me like a brick wall. If this had been diagnosed earlier, I would have had a smaller chance of dealing with something like Triploidy. That thought was pushed out by gratitude to God for giving me a beautiful, healthy daughter. I'm crying as I write this because I am struck again by what an amazing miracle she is. Thank you, God.
The doctor gave us a plan that we are now deciding when and if to enact. He also told me that PCOS brings with it a higher chance at ovarian cancer and elevated risk for developing diabetes. When I'm not trying to conceive, I need to be on the pill for the rest of my childbearing years to keep my hormones in check, and to bring down my chances of cancer to a normal level. I'm upset that I've spent years off the pill adding unecessary risk to my life because my doctors weren't proactive. How could I have known without medical advice? It's counterintuitive to take the pill when you are infertile and trying to conceive for many years! I'm also upset after discovering that the care I was given thus far has been more expensive than the care given by Dr. Super Specialist. It brings home the point that we all need to be our own advocates. We can't trust the doctors to know what to do. We must seek out answers and constantly question the care we are given.
Ironically, with all of the discussion of my reproductive future, I also received a call from the cremation people. I discovered that my son's remains were never scattered as we had directed at the time of his birth. Apprently there was a consent form missing that prevented them from carrying out our wishes. Since we are young and hadn't yet planned for our exits at that time, we didn't know what to do but have him scattered. We certainly couldn't see spending thousands on a service and burial when our son's passing was so personal and his life so brief. We also knew that any future attempts at pregnancy could get expensive quickly. Cremation and scattering of ashes in the cemetary seemed appropriate. For some reason, I'm thinking about changing my mind now that I know he's still here. I have been given another chance to decide, and I wonder if keeping his ashes for a time and scattering them in one of my favorite places might be more appropriate now. My little thimble of ashes costs $50 to ship, so we may have to make a trip to collect his remains if we decide to go that route. I'm just not sure what I want to do. Old feelings feel raw now in the wake of this discovery. Do they have a warehouse of ashes somewhere or what? Strange.
I have a lot to think about.
Last weekend we went to Toy Story 3 as a family. It was our first attempt at a movie with my daughter, and she did very well. We also visited a splash pad, and took a long bike ride (which prompted me to purchase a softer seat. All I can say is: "I'm old." and "Ouch!")
We were able to attend a "Gotcha Party" for a little girl too. I had no idea what this was, but google helped. Adoptive families sometimes celebrate the day their adoptions became final, or the the day they officially "got" their child. It's a great idea, and the party was at the home of some dear friends of ours who really know how to entertain in style. What a fabulous weekend!
Monday brought with it our appointment at the fertility doctor. It's difficult to sum up the feelings I have about it. In the first five minutes, we had discovered my diagnosis. Finally. This diagnosis has never been spoken to me, hinted at, or even attempted until now. It was sureal to hear it after having spent years of my life only knowing that something is wrong, but not knowing what it is. The diagnosis was Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (also known as PCOS). The doctor seemed to feel that I'm a textbook case of PCOS, so I was surprised that no one has ever made this connection before. He never ran any tests or examined me. He simply read the same medical records that have been in front of my doctors for years. I was relieved and angry at the same time.
The doctor went on the explain how PCOS works, and how it affects your life. As I sit here tonight, I still have yet to google it (and I'm amazed at my restraint thus far!), but apparently this syndrome results from a chronic imbalance of hormones. Because these hormones are out of their normal ranges, I don't produce eggs. When I do (usually with the aid of medication), the eggs are poor quality. This can result in a higher chance of birth defects and miscarriage, and they have a medication to help correct this. Huh. That hit me like a brick wall. If this had been diagnosed earlier, I would have had a smaller chance of dealing with something like Triploidy. That thought was pushed out by gratitude to God for giving me a beautiful, healthy daughter. I'm crying as I write this because I am struck again by what an amazing miracle she is. Thank you, God.
The doctor gave us a plan that we are now deciding when and if to enact. He also told me that PCOS brings with it a higher chance at ovarian cancer and elevated risk for developing diabetes. When I'm not trying to conceive, I need to be on the pill for the rest of my childbearing years to keep my hormones in check, and to bring down my chances of cancer to a normal level. I'm upset that I've spent years off the pill adding unecessary risk to my life because my doctors weren't proactive. How could I have known without medical advice? It's counterintuitive to take the pill when you are infertile and trying to conceive for many years! I'm also upset after discovering that the care I was given thus far has been more expensive than the care given by Dr. Super Specialist. It brings home the point that we all need to be our own advocates. We can't trust the doctors to know what to do. We must seek out answers and constantly question the care we are given.
Ironically, with all of the discussion of my reproductive future, I also received a call from the cremation people. I discovered that my son's remains were never scattered as we had directed at the time of his birth. Apprently there was a consent form missing that prevented them from carrying out our wishes. Since we are young and hadn't yet planned for our exits at that time, we didn't know what to do but have him scattered. We certainly couldn't see spending thousands on a service and burial when our son's passing was so personal and his life so brief. We also knew that any future attempts at pregnancy could get expensive quickly. Cremation and scattering of ashes in the cemetary seemed appropriate. For some reason, I'm thinking about changing my mind now that I know he's still here. I have been given another chance to decide, and I wonder if keeping his ashes for a time and scattering them in one of my favorite places might be more appropriate now. My little thimble of ashes costs $50 to ship, so we may have to make a trip to collect his remains if we decide to go that route. I'm just not sure what I want to do. Old feelings feel raw now in the wake of this discovery. Do they have a warehouse of ashes somewhere or what? Strange.
I have a lot to think about.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Technicolor Dreams
My world just got more colorful. This is a picture I took Memorial Day weekend. I didn't pose my daughter. This is just how she looked relaxing by her pool.
I love the way the color can be turned up to make it more vivid. I love how the whites are blinding. I've been locked in a room editing photos tonight as I have been every night this week. I'm fascinated with this program (Lightroom) and its ability to adjust everything so it all looks just like it does in my head.
This little guy is my new nephew.
Isn't he adorable? I'm biased of course, but I'm quite proud. And envious. You know, but I won't go there. Nope. I took this photo just last weekend. Not half bad, right?
I actually have no idea what I'm doing to tell you the truth. I barely understand my camera, and I only use a handful of the features on the software, but luckily I can come up with something I like once in awhile. I guess that's all that matters right? I'm making these photos right for my eyes and my memories. I've really been enjoying it.
Enough about my love affair with Adobe Lightroom. I will pause from my event planning and constant photo editing to give a quick update of random happenings.
I absolutely love the age my daughter is at right now. She is trying at times, but she's also hilarious, spontaneous, witty, smart, observant, and chatty. I'm enjoying every minute of it. She has taken to naming everything, and she comes up with the funniest names. The turtles we saw at the pet store were "Joggy" and "Gingie." I'm not sure where she comes up with these things! She thinks that I know everyone. We can't drive past a biker on the road or walk past a group of people in a store without her asking who the people are or what their names are. She is becoming an expert at pretending. She has voices for her animals and dolls. She plays out little scenarios. She imagines that her toys are all kinds of different things. It's fun to watch, and it's fun to be a part of. Due to her recent affinity for Diego, we now play an animal rescue game quite often where we use a "field journal" (toy phone) to help us rescue her stuffed toys. She rescues them again and again. I just wish I could freeze her here. She's a joy.
I've been feeling restless lately. It's probably because I can't seem to move my life in the directions I want. I spend 8 hours a day working. I need 8 hours to pursue my passions! I'm left with no time. I like literature, music, environmental causes, promoting vegetarianism, photography... I have a real passion for all of these things, but no time to indulge. Except when I should be sleeping. Like right now for example. I just wish I could use my work hours doing what I love. Turns out no one at my job really wants to hear about how bad I think the meat industry is. No one is interested in where their food comes from. They certainly don't want to know about digital compression and how it's killing music, but that's what I want to talk about all day. Is that normal? Do most people reserve their passions for the weekend and feel satisfied? That doesn't feel like enough for me. I'm sure I'll find a remedy, but I don't have it yet.
Until then I'm going to eat cookies and edit photos instead of sleeping. That's how I'm getting by for now.
I love the way the color can be turned up to make it more vivid. I love how the whites are blinding. I've been locked in a room editing photos tonight as I have been every night this week. I'm fascinated with this program (Lightroom) and its ability to adjust everything so it all looks just like it does in my head.
This little guy is my new nephew.
Isn't he adorable? I'm biased of course, but I'm quite proud. And envious. You know, but I won't go there. Nope. I took this photo just last weekend. Not half bad, right?
I actually have no idea what I'm doing to tell you the truth. I barely understand my camera, and I only use a handful of the features on the software, but luckily I can come up with something I like once in awhile. I guess that's all that matters right? I'm making these photos right for my eyes and my memories. I've really been enjoying it.
Enough about my love affair with Adobe Lightroom. I will pause from my event planning and constant photo editing to give a quick update of random happenings.
I absolutely love the age my daughter is at right now. She is trying at times, but she's also hilarious, spontaneous, witty, smart, observant, and chatty. I'm enjoying every minute of it. She has taken to naming everything, and she comes up with the funniest names. The turtles we saw at the pet store were "Joggy" and "Gingie." I'm not sure where she comes up with these things! She thinks that I know everyone. We can't drive past a biker on the road or walk past a group of people in a store without her asking who the people are or what their names are. She is becoming an expert at pretending. She has voices for her animals and dolls. She plays out little scenarios. She imagines that her toys are all kinds of different things. It's fun to watch, and it's fun to be a part of. Due to her recent affinity for Diego, we now play an animal rescue game quite often where we use a "field journal" (toy phone) to help us rescue her stuffed toys. She rescues them again and again. I just wish I could freeze her here. She's a joy.
I've been feeling restless lately. It's probably because I can't seem to move my life in the directions I want. I spend 8 hours a day working. I need 8 hours to pursue my passions! I'm left with no time. I like literature, music, environmental causes, promoting vegetarianism, photography... I have a real passion for all of these things, but no time to indulge. Except when I should be sleeping. Like right now for example. I just wish I could use my work hours doing what I love. Turns out no one at my job really wants to hear about how bad I think the meat industry is. No one is interested in where their food comes from. They certainly don't want to know about digital compression and how it's killing music, but that's what I want to talk about all day. Is that normal? Do most people reserve their passions for the weekend and feel satisfied? That doesn't feel like enough for me. I'm sure I'll find a remedy, but I don't have it yet.
Until then I'm going to eat cookies and edit photos instead of sleeping. That's how I'm getting by for now.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Checking in...
This blog has been dormant for quite some time. I'm writing lots in my head, but not much here! The problem?
1) I have a 30 day free trial of Adobe Lightroom. It took the first 20 days for me to get comfortable and well versed in the many awesome features it has, and now I'm squeezing out every last bit of photo editing before I lose it! I can't afford the program now, and I'm a huge photo freak. I've locked myself in the basement and I'm about to go back to my post. (download the free trial and you will lose your mind like me!)
2) I have a new nephew. He was born last week, and in the last two days I have photographed him, and now I'm editing those photos. (see # 1)
3) I'm in party planning mode for a big event coming up at our house. I have lots of cooking, cleaning, organizing, and errands going on.
So dear friends, I promise to write more later. I've got photos (freshly edited) and updates galore. Coming soon. I think I've said that before. I guess life is too busy sometimes to stop and write about it!
1) I have a 30 day free trial of Adobe Lightroom. It took the first 20 days for me to get comfortable and well versed in the many awesome features it has, and now I'm squeezing out every last bit of photo editing before I lose it! I can't afford the program now, and I'm a huge photo freak. I've locked myself in the basement and I'm about to go back to my post. (download the free trial and you will lose your mind like me!)
2) I have a new nephew. He was born last week, and in the last two days I have photographed him, and now I'm editing those photos. (see # 1)
3) I'm in party planning mode for a big event coming up at our house. I have lots of cooking, cleaning, organizing, and errands going on.
So dear friends, I promise to write more later. I've got photos (freshly edited) and updates galore. Coming soon. I think I've said that before. I guess life is too busy sometimes to stop and write about it!
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Sad.
Today was the end. Eight or nine months of attempting to become pregnant have passed. We have been unsuccessful. I didn't think I'd feel so sad. I think it was more intense this time because I know we're taking a break. For real this time. I don't think we'll start up again until August or September. While the disappointment I feel each month is hard, at least I'm constantly trying. I constantly have new hope. There is no hope now. We will will not reach our goal in the next few months. It's hard to think about that.
I was thinking today about how strange my pursuit of having children has turned out. My first pregnancy was achieved with Clomid. I took a pill for a few months and got the good news that it had worked. You all know how that story turned out. When all was said and done and we started to try again, we were sure Clomid would do the trick again. Months passed. Nothing. We decided to graduate to medication coupled with insemination. After a couple of cycles, we had success again. Somehow we still didn't learn. This time we were sure the same treatment would work because it worked last time. We were wrong. Each attempt at pregnancy has required more intervention. It's strange how that has worked out. I don't know what the specialist will suggest when we meet with him in a few weeks. It looks like we will have to move on to "Plan B." Er... Plan H. I can't keep track anymore.
I'm not sure why I torture myself, but I'm watching a show right now called "I'm Pregnant And..." which details the lives of pregnant women in difficult situations. Tonight they had a woman who is pregnant and homeless followed by an episode about a pregnant woman in prison. I can't understand how life works. It seems unfair for some women to be stuck with infertility when they are in safe and secure relationships with homes, food, stability, education, employment, and the desire to have children. At the same time there are so many pregnant women with no resources who have made poor decisions and were not even trying to conceive. It's even worse that adoption is so cost prohibitive to couples who so badly want to have the babies that no one else wants. I can't make sense out of it.
When I realized that this cycle had come to an end today, I felt peaceful about it for awhile. I thought about how I will be able to enjoy a few nice cold beers on the deck this summer. I will be able to catch up financially. I will be able to stop trying to set up a work schedule around my many appointments. I will be able to stop looking for symptoms and waiting for news. I'm looking forward to that part. I'd trade it all for a baby though. I heard a soft and tender song on the radio this afternoon and started to cry while I was driving. It hit me hard.
I never like those times in my life when I can't see God's plan. I don't like it when His plan doesn't fit mine. One of the hardest things to deal with is letting go of what you want and accepting what He wants for you. I have faith. I know it's right. It just doesn't make today any easier.
Tonight I'm repeating The Serenity Prayer to myself and having a small glass of wine. I'm crying. I'm remembering how amazing it is that I was given a daughter when the odds are stacked against it. I'm wondering how this chapter will turn out. Tonight I'm sad.
I was thinking today about how strange my pursuit of having children has turned out. My first pregnancy was achieved with Clomid. I took a pill for a few months and got the good news that it had worked. You all know how that story turned out. When all was said and done and we started to try again, we were sure Clomid would do the trick again. Months passed. Nothing. We decided to graduate to medication coupled with insemination. After a couple of cycles, we had success again. Somehow we still didn't learn. This time we were sure the same treatment would work because it worked last time. We were wrong. Each attempt at pregnancy has required more intervention. It's strange how that has worked out. I don't know what the specialist will suggest when we meet with him in a few weeks. It looks like we will have to move on to "Plan B." Er... Plan H. I can't keep track anymore.
I'm not sure why I torture myself, but I'm watching a show right now called "I'm Pregnant And..." which details the lives of pregnant women in difficult situations. Tonight they had a woman who is pregnant and homeless followed by an episode about a pregnant woman in prison. I can't understand how life works. It seems unfair for some women to be stuck with infertility when they are in safe and secure relationships with homes, food, stability, education, employment, and the desire to have children. At the same time there are so many pregnant women with no resources who have made poor decisions and were not even trying to conceive. It's even worse that adoption is so cost prohibitive to couples who so badly want to have the babies that no one else wants. I can't make sense out of it.
When I realized that this cycle had come to an end today, I felt peaceful about it for awhile. I thought about how I will be able to enjoy a few nice cold beers on the deck this summer. I will be able to catch up financially. I will be able to stop trying to set up a work schedule around my many appointments. I will be able to stop looking for symptoms and waiting for news. I'm looking forward to that part. I'd trade it all for a baby though. I heard a soft and tender song on the radio this afternoon and started to cry while I was driving. It hit me hard.
I never like those times in my life when I can't see God's plan. I don't like it when His plan doesn't fit mine. One of the hardest things to deal with is letting go of what you want and accepting what He wants for you. I have faith. I know it's right. It just doesn't make today any easier.
Tonight I'm repeating The Serenity Prayer to myself and having a small glass of wine. I'm crying. I'm remembering how amazing it is that I was given a daughter when the odds are stacked against it. I'm wondering how this chapter will turn out. Tonight I'm sad.
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