Almost To A Close

While this year has presented me with the greatest joys and deep heartache, I am thankful for them all.  It has been a long time since I've blogged.  I've been busy with my life and kids and to be perfectly honest, I've lacked the motivation.  I wish I was able to be on top of my game and hammer out a week's worth of posts over the weekend and set them to auto-publish.  But alas, it just isn't the way I do things.  I blog when I am moved to do so.  So I'll attempt to catch you up, bare bones version.  Adding details would only add to the length of a post that will be long enough already.

On September 24, 2010 my baby girl turned 6 months old.  We went to the pediatrician and got her weight and height.  She was perfect.  Right on target.  I was happy.  That evening, K got home from work and had to leave shortly after to head over to the hospital for a sleep study.  I snuggled into bed for the night.  I love K, but he can snore like no ones business.  So it was nice to have the bed to myself and enjoy a quiet, full nights sleep, provided kids didn't wake up.  At 12:27am my phone rang and it was my MIL in Oregon.  I immediately knew something was wrong as she'd never call that late.  I could also tell my her voice that she was very distraught and upset.  The words I heard over the phone will forever be ingrained into my soul..."Dad was killed in a motorcycle accident tonight."

I almost dropped the phone.  Still blurry-eyed and half asleep I stammered and stumbled over my own words, in shock and not able to even get them out right.  Sparing the details as it is still very painful to even think about, I found myself faced with having to drive to the hospital in the wee hours of the morning to tell K that his father had been killed.  How do you do that?  How do you wake him up out of a hospital test and say something like that?  I had no choice.  After driving home he booked the first flight he could get which was later that morning.  

It pained me not to go with him.  But I had the babies here and it just wasn't possible at the time for all of us to go.  I loved my FIL.  He was a wonderful man and just the nicest person I think I've ever had the pleasure of meeting.  I instantly loved him the moment I met him.  He was soft spoken, gentle, amazingly talented and the perfect Grandpa.  My son adored him.  When they were here visiting in April/May, each morning when Big C would wake up, he'd run looking for Grandpa. It breaks my heart that he and Little C will not know what an amazing man their grandfather was.  They have to miss out on him and on their grandmother, my Mom who was my absolute hero.

Part of the reason I've been absent in blogging for so long is trying to find the words to talk about something so painful.  Sometimes writing helps, and other times...you just can't find the words and have to wait until they come on their own.  Despite the unpleasant things that have happened this year, I am thankful that I still have my Dad, who turned 72 last month.  I'm also undeniably thankful that I have 2 beautiful, healthy, intelligent, happy and amazing children that I should be thanking God for, out loud each and everyday.  And though at times I forget to say my prayers and thank Him, I am eternally grateful to Him for all He has given to me.  While I mourn the loss of my dear FIL, I am also thankful to have been able to know him.  That is a blessing in itself because of the man that he was.  My life is more enriched because he was in it, even though the time was too short.

I've been doing a lot of reflecting as this year approaches it's end.  I've alot of things to think about, changes I want to make and looking for the new year to be better than the last.  I'll do my best to make it better, the rest, I'll leave up to God as He really does know best.  I'd like to leave you with a few photos of my FIL...doing what he loved and with who he loved...motorcycles and his grandkids.

George William Jones
Aug. 31, 1946 - Sept. 24, 2010

The Vulcan

Such A Long, Long Time

It seems like it has been forever.  I'm sorry.  I really wish I could be one of those savvy bloggers who can have posts written ahead of time and schedule them to publish so readers have something to read.  I also wish I was able to sit own and pound out a post about some current event, something everyone is talking about while it is actually still a current topic instead of something that happened 4 months ago.  I'm not one of those people as much as I have tried to be in the past.  I'm sure I'm no more busy than any other momma blogger out there.  I just suck at time management maybe.  I really do love blogging, but sometimes there are just things that come before it.  Perhaps it takes me longer to process through things before I can jump on the bandwagon and begin hammering out posts about my life.

The truth is my family has been turned upside down.  When I find the strength to write about it, I will.  Just when things seemed to be going fantastic.  I was kicking PPD's ass, I was freakin' Susie homemaker, I was Super Momma and in an instant that all fell to the wayside because a tragedy hit hard and cracked my hard outer layer and my soft gooey center has found its way to the outside.  That soft place I sometimes share with people that I have a very deep trust.  I found myself with out tape, bandages, a band aid and have been doing my best to keep it contained.  My family and friends are also dealing with their own hurt and the last thing they need is me unable to hold back my own.  Sure misery loves company, but not this kind.  So bear with me as I sort through things and do my best to still be the person I always have been, though somewhat changed.  I'd like to share even this part of my life with you.  But I can't until I'm ready.  I'm getting there.

-MoM-

A Letter To God

Dear Lord,

It's me, Stacey.  I know we haven't talked in while and I'm really sorry about that.  I've had a lot on my mind lately.  Well, I guess you already know that, huh?  I have something important I want to talk to you about.  You know how most nights, but not every night, like I wish I did, I thank you for my family, my babies and every wonderful thing that you have blessed me with?  Then how I follow that up with asking you to help me be a good mom, and to keep my babies safe, healthy and alive, and the same for K, J & Dad?  And I will also pray for other folks who's blogs, or tweets or Face book entries I've read who are having a tough time and could really use a little extra attention from you.  Well, I want to do something in addition to that today.

I want you to never let me forget how fortunate and blessed I am to have Big C & Little C in my life.  I waited a long time for them, true.  But you did give them to me.  In your time.  In dealing with my postpartum depression/anxiety I experience a tremendous amount of guilt after I "lose it" and have time to reflect on how I behaved.  God, I need your help with this.  I need strength to get through it.  I know you will hold my hand and walk me out of the woods of PPD.  But just in case I forgot to tell you, I need your help.  I keep thinking that this is something I should do on my own.  I know, silly.  The Bible tells us:

"Cast your cares on the LORD 
and he will sustain you;
he will never let the righteous fall." --Psalm 55:22

 So, here they are Lord.  I'm giving you everything I've got.  I will continue to ask you to keep my children healthy, safe and alive.  And the same for K & my family.  I will continue to ask you to give comfort, hope, justice and grace to those I know personally & those I know by screen name only.  I will ask you to hold all of us close to your heart, even though I know you already do.

Before I go, I want to thank you for something else.  The bad things that have happened.  Sure I would have rather they not, but I understand that it wasn't something you did.  It wasn't something you let happen.  It just did.  The important thing was that you were there to pick up the pieces afterward.  You gave me strength when I was weak.  You showed me that you have a plan for me and even though bad things might happen, you still love me and that your plan will take shape no matter what.  You have taught me that good things can come from tragedy.  You have taught me that if I put my faith & trust in you, all things are possible.  Especially when I myself had given up hope.

Thank you, Lord.  For never forsaking me.  For never giving up on me, even though at one time, I gave up on you.  Thank you for loving me as only a Father (or Mother) can love their child.  Completely, unconditionally and infinitely.  Never let me forget Lord, what a blessing my children are and how thankful I am you have let me borrow them from you during my time here on Earth.  I love you.

Faithfully,

S

I Thought We Were In The Home Stretch

With the acid reflux.  But no.  Little C had her 2 month check up on Monday.  Things went well.  She is in the 60-75th percentiles for height & weight and 90% for head size, which Dr. L said was just fine.  She has that nice, round c-section head shape.  Anyway, we discussed her crying/colic situation.  And he saw it first hand for himself.  It is his opinion that even though the gas issue has improved that she is hypersensitive.  Meaning she will cry at the drop of a hat if she is disturbed.  He told me not to worry and that most babies do grow out of this at about 3-4 months.  So, we will see, we've 4-6 more weeks to go.  He reflux seemed to be getting under control until Tuesday night.  It was horrible.  She was spitting up every single time I burped her, bringing it through her nose and then going into a flat out panic, squeezing her eyes shut, shaking, unable to catch her breath and then finally screaming hysterically.  Even after the episode was over I noticed her squeezing her hands tightly into fists, arching her back and throwing her legs straight out, literally she probably could have stood straight up if I had been holding her that way, while she screamed.  Not cried.  Oh no.  This was flat out hysterical, panicked screaming that clearly says, "Something is wrong."  It was the kind of scream where you knew immediately it meant "I am in pain."  I couldn't get her to eat any more formula either.  I finally got her settled down and she did sleep through the night.  She awoke at 4:30am and drank her whole 4 ounce bottle and we had no problems.  I was relieved.

Then came later that morning.  I tried to feed her again at 8:30am.  The same thing happened.  She drank, burped and spit up bringing it through her nose, panicked, screamed, cried and continued writhing in pain, refusing to drink any additional formula.  I called the pediatrician and told him what was going on.  He told me to stop the Zantac and called in a script for Prevacid.  Hoping this will remedy her problem.  I do too.  Things have been unchanged thus far, but she has only had 2 doses.  I worry that I can't get her to drink more than 2-3 ounces at a feeding.  She is clearly not herself.  And although she may be hypersensitive and crying a lot, she is still my sweet girl and I want her crying because she can cry, not because she is in pain.

This is a real blow for me considering the PPD.  The feelings of being inadequate and worthless as a mother did rear their ugly heads yesterday.  It happened during the time that Little C was screaming and crying so hard that I broke down and I cried with her.  I yelled at God and asked why He was doing this to me, to immediately apologize to Him and again feel guilty and shameful over my outburst and inability to control myself from yelling like a loon at the crucifix on my wall.  I looked at my screaming baby, in obvious pain and distress and could do nothing.  Nothing.  I can't make this go away.  Helpless.  I can't even soothe her when she gets like this.  She almost has to cry herself out because she gets into such hysterics and that also scares me.  I don't want my baby doing this to herself day after day.

I've also got other things going on that isn't helping my situation.  The dog with cancer is at the vet.  I'm waiting to hear back from him as I type this.  While I was at the pediatrician with Little C on Monday, my brother called me to tell me, Savannah...my very old Bulldog died.  Granted I know she was old, less than 2 months shy of her 14th birthday, which is unheard of in Bulldogs.  Still, it was something I wish wouldn't have had to happen NOW.  And I don't even want to get into the situation with one of the horses.  Ugh...she really gouged herself up and so I've been playing veterinarian to her as well.  Having to come in and shower before I can touch my kids because I certainly am not going to transmit any kind of infection/bacteria from the animals outside to my kids.  Again, it would have been nice if this didn't happen at all...but especially not now.

Oh and I also didn't mention my father getting into a car accident on Saturday.  He was rear ended by a driver in a SUV who was then hit by the car behind him.  My dad was waiting to make a turn when the guy behind him tried to go around him, he must have been in a big hurry and plowed into the back of my dad's car.  Its an old car...a 1986 Buick.  So there was no collision on it.  And they are going to total it since it can't be driven.  If they decide they can fix it I'll be very surprised.  My Dad hit his head, blacked out for a few minutes and had a good bit of bleeding.  But he refused treatment saying with was only a scratch and that he was fine.  I begged him to let me take him to the hospital or to an urgent care facility at least.  And he refused...telling me he didn't want to hear any more about it.  My Dad is 71.  He is the only grandparent these kids really have as my in-laws are 3,000 miles away in Oregon and my mother is dead.  Big C adores my father.  This has been stressing me out.  I love my father and he is the only parent I have left as well.  I don't want anything happening to him because of his stubborness and refusal to see a doctor.  Especially if it could have been avoided altogether.  But what else can I do?  I can't *make* him.  And I tried.  I laid guilt trips on him and everything and he won't budge.

I so need to find the strength to get us all through this.  Now if only someone could drop a big chunk of it in my lap for me.

It's Not About Me Anymore...Or You For That Matter

Implementing changes.  This is what I've decided I really need to do over the next few weeks as I wait for Baby J to arrive.  Look, I know all about life changes.  It is no stranger to me.  After all, I do have one child already.  I've adapted to that change, although he's 14 months old and I still find myself adapting.  I'm sure that I will continue to do so as he grows up.  I adapted to losing my mom to a devastating disease that she suffered with from the time I was six years old.  Life is all about changes and adaptations.  But that isn't exactly what I'm talking about this time.

Let me try to explain this the best I can.  There are things in my life that make me happy.  They have done so for a long time.  But I'm finding out that now, they just aren't in the forefront any longer.  Yes, they still make me just as happy.  But there are more important things that need my focus and attention now.  I don't love the idea that I have to give something like that up, even though I know it is for the best right now.  I'm hoping that later down the road, I can revisit some of these things and find myself loving them even more now that I have others to share them with.  That being said it has vast effects on my life both financially and personally.  And on both ends of the spectrum.  In one sense it is costing me, while in another it saves me.  Bizarre as it sounds, it's just how it works.

I think the most challenging part of this whole realization, if you will is dealing with my feelings about things I once held so concretely.  Things that I build my entire life around, never willing to compromise on.  I have come to realize quickly that children have a way of making you see things vastly different than you once did, but these feelings are something I just wasn't am not prepared for.  I'm not prepared with it emotionally, let alone psychologically enough to go out and execute these things which need to be set into motion.  I can lie to myself and make excuses about the way I'm feeling and try to dismiss it.  "Oh, I'm just being over-sensitive and over-emotional because I'm pregnant and hormones are running the show."  And while that may hold some shred of truth, I know deep down that I would still feel this way if I were not pregnant.  Clear as mud?

It would be easier for everyone to understand if I just spelled it out and told you the specifics.  I'm just not in a position where I feel comfortable enough to share it with the world just yet.  Maybe one day I will.  But that day is not today.  There are things that I need to change right now, and I can't.  I am not financially able to.  So those things will have to wait.  And I don't know if I will ever be financially able to do them.  And that takes it's toll on my emotions.  I have concerns for my family, my child, my unborn child, my husband, myself, our home, our finances and my father and brother.  I think often about my life, the farm, the animals, my hobbies and it all has to change.  All of it.  Yes, I know that "That's Life."  I guess I just never expected it all to have to change at the same time.  I thought things went slowly, like they used to. 

I guess what it boils down to is self-sacrifice.  I've sacrificed lots of things in my life.  But they were things that didn't effect me, or hurt me as much to give up.  A few of them were very painful, but for the most part, I've been lucky enough to not really have to give up the things I loved and enjoyed.  Now, I do.  And this is going to be a long period of adjustment for me.  I'm finding my personality adjusting a bit to the changes as well.  And while I don't think it is something that is altogether bad...it is very different.  My family has already begun to see a different, stronger more decisive side of me that they weren't prepared for.  My friends will be seeing it soon as well, I'm sure.  And I have a feeling some of them may not really like it.  I feel bad about that.  I do.  But I've decided that it is time I stop living for everyone else and started living for my husband, son and my new darling yet to arrive.  I need to be there for them first, before anyone or anything else.  And that is tough to do when for so long, you have tried to be everything to everyone.