Sixteen Years

Today.  This is the day I lost my very best friend, my rock, my inspiration, my reason, my world...my Mother.  Sometimes, it doesn't seem like that much time has passed.  The hurt as fresh and raw as that very morning.  Ever since that day, I've never been able to "get past" my feeling of profound loss.  Everyone told me, time heals.  I'm here to tell you that it absolutely does not.  It does not heal, but it changes.  It changes the way you feel, how you perceive how you embrace and deal with the pain and loss.

Let me see if I can explain this a little better.  When my mother left this world to be with Jesus my world collapsed around me.  Everything I ever knew was gone.  I had my brother and my father and extended family, yes.  But the core of my everyday life was gone.  The weight of that was terrifying.  I was confused, scared and not sure how I was going to be able to survive.  All of that was mingled with utter loss.  I'd never felt so empty.  Never had I experienced such a deep and resounding loss.  Hollow, so hollow for that first day all I did was echo what others said to me while never really listening.  The person I loved the most in all of the world was never coming back.  There was also anger and betrayal.  Not at my mother, but at those caring for her.  How could they let this happen?  Didn't they understand she was someone's wife, mother, sister?  What was she just another body in a hospital bed?  A complicated medical case that no one wanted to deal with? A bother, inconvenience?  Betrayed by God.  I prayed all the time for Him to make her better.  From the time she first got sick when I was just 6 years old.  Doesn't God listen to a child's prayers?  I sat and prayed over her through the night for days while I sat by her bed in the hospital...it was all for nothing wasn't it?  How could He have done this?  How could He take her from me?

That paragraph up there is a whole lot of ugly.  I still feel the anger.  I will always harbor that until the day I die because I know in my heart the truth.  I know how complicated my mother was viewed as being.  That is one thing that has not healed, lessened, changed with time.  But the other things have changed...a lot.  Only time can let you see a tragedy in such a perspective.  So what has time changed?

Thanks be to God, I still have my father and my brother.  Back then I realized that my mother did raise me.  I was still at home, still going to college but I was 21.  Even though I didn't think I could survive, she taught me everything I needed to know.  I took over paying bills, managing a household...even breeding/showing the dogs & horses.  I will say it was a bit harsh because even though I knew how and had watched my mother do these things, I never had the luxury of just picking up the phone and calling her to make sure I had done things right.  If I did something wrong, I dealt with the consequences and learned from those mistakes.

The loss.  That...well that never goes away.  Sometimes, I think it gets worse depending on where you are in your life.  For me, any accomplishment, goal, milestone I reach in my life...that profound loss returns because she is not there to witness it.  Like a diamond it has multiple facets.  There is nothing her absence does not touch.  My first real job, being able to give me advice or words of wisdom.  Meeting my boyfriend/fiancee/husband, having girl talk and reassuring my heart on things when I was scared or hormonal.  My wedding, helping me plan it out, to be there when I walked down the aisle with the man I am going to spend the rest of my life with.  My pregnancies, to bask in the sheer joy and talk about everything baby!  Names and colors and to daydream about who he/she will look like from our family.  The birth of my children.  I think that has been one of the most difficult.  Not just wishing she was there for the actual birth.  But to be able to have 3 generations all together.  To have her to ask questions since babies certainly don't come with instructions.  When I struggled with my emotions and frustrations.  When I really could have used her comfort and wisdom when I was dealing with PPD.  With Big C's colic and Little C's reflux went full tilt, her advice would have been invaluable.  Did I have colic, or did my brother?  Things that she alone knew about raising her children, she wasn't able to pass on to me, because she wasn't here any longer.  Every little thing my children do, reminds me of her.  First smiles, first words, first steps, first birthdays.  Accomplishments, first day of pre school, Big C's martial arts classes, cute things they say or do.  How they hug each other and say, "I love you!"  How they fight like my brother and I did do.  How she would have been an amazing grandmother.  How much she would have loved them, and how they would adore her.  If you follow and read this blog at all, you'll see how her absence comes up in the most mundane or simple things...like last month's Grandmother's Luncheon.  When thinking of or planning future events with my children, I think of her and I miss her dearly, wishing that she could be here to experience them with us.  The loss my friends....time never heals...it only changes.  I still miss her on my own.  I am still reminded of how much I miss her, what her arms felt like around me, the sound of her laughter, her angry face, her beautiful singing...everything that I have been missing for the last 16 years.

Betrayal.  God had forsaken me.  Time does change that perspective.  I know now it was my pain crying out, desperately wanting someone, something to blame because this just wasn't supposed to happen.  Yes, it happens to other people, but not me!  Certainly not me!  It took a while before I understood exactly where my mother went, who she is with and why.  I realized that all those years I spent praying for God to make my mother better weren't wasted.  Because instead of taking her right then, He did make her well.  No, not healed, but well enough to continue to be with me for another 15 years until He couldn't wait any longer.  He did that for ME.  He put off the inevitable because I asked Him to.  Up until that very moment she left me, as I laid in bed holding her.  I asked Him not to let her suffer, to come for her and take her with Him gently and quietly.  And He did.

Sometimes, when I look at the big picture, I can see God's handiwork.  The loss of my mother left me very lonely.  It pretty much forced me to meet and talk to people.  Both people from my past, and those brand new.  If my Mom hadn't gone with the Lord when she did, I probably would not have met my husband, which means I would never have had my children.  I really don't know how life would be now.  I like to think I'd have taken a similar path and that I still would have the life I do now, only with her still in it.  But who is to say?  Only God and my mother know why things turned out the way they did.  I still grieve for her.  I miss her so, so much.  I want my children to know the kind of person their grandmother was, so I tell them about her often.  I do my best to remember things I heard as a child that are specific only to our family so that my children will teach them to their children one day and we will live on through them.  So to end this entry, I'll leave you with a little song that my Grandmother wrote while mourning the loss of her own mother when she was just 19 years old.

One night while I was sleeping,

My sisters at my side.

I heard a voice from Heaven,

"Your dearest mother has died."

Remember now dear children,

Remember one and all.

For when you lose your mother,

You've lost the best friend of all.

             -- Margaret Lindeman

There Is A Rock In My Stomach

That is sort of what it felt like at first.  Then dread set in and finally a gnawing, unrelenting sorrow.  Followed up by a healthy dose of selfishness and chased back with a double shot of guilt.  Last week, Big C came out of his classroom with a paper in his hand.  A reminder about the Grandmother's Luncheon on Friday May 10th.  I froze at seeing it, then just put it out of my mind. I dropped him off on Friday and the board outside of the the classroom had a note about needing RSVP's for the lunch.  I had that sinking feeling again. Again, I shook my head and pushed it out of my mind.  Just because I felt compelled to do it...it is not a good idea.  It only comes back to haunt torment suffocate you later.

I picked him up that afternoon and he came bounding out of his classroom so excited to see me and bursting to tell me something.

"Guess what Mom?  We're gonna have a lunch!"

There came that feeling again. His teacher hurried out to hand him to yellow pieces of construction paper.  On the front of it, artwork done by him.  Little finger prints made into butterflies and bugs.  On the back, a white sheet of paper adhered to it.  It was an invitation.  Two of them.  One for each of his grandmothers.  He turned to take them from his teacher and his little face fell a bit as he said,

"I only have one grand mom."

She patted his little hand and said he could just keep one then.  I looked at her and my face must have had written what I was feeling all over it as she looked at me sympathetically.  I told her his grandmother lived in Oregon, and the other...was gone...passed away.  She asked if perhaps he had an aunt or other female relative who could bring him.  Again, his only aunt is across the country.  I told her I'd ask his Godmother if she could go with him.  The rock that was sitting in my stomach became heavier with each step toward the car.  Once inside he asked me if I was sad.  This kid misses nothing.  I told him that I was a little.  He asked me if it was because I missed my Mommy and I was barely able to choke out a simple "yes".

I suppose for me, it would be one thing if both of his grandmother's lived far away.  Perhaps I would handle it better.  They simply couldn't be here because of distance.  Not that they couldn't be here...ever.  But my mother will be gone 16 years next month.  She was too young to die.  She should have been able to see her only daughter get married and finally have babies for her to love and spoil.  And I feel like she was robbed of that. I know I know, that sounds so terrible to think that way.  But I can't help it.  I don't feel like this all the time.  Only when things like this come up and that pain is rubbed raw once again.

I did call is Godmother, who is busy with 4 babies of her own.  She was excited at being able to go with him, and my heart lifted that he wouldn't have to miss it.  Unfortunately one of her children has a field trip that she is chaperoning on the same day.  She was terribly disappointed.

Call me a baby, immature.  Tell me to suck it up and get over it if you want.  Roll your eyes and huff about how this won't be the last time.  Things like this are going to happen again and I just have to get used to it.  To that I simply say NO. No I will not.  I will never get used to my mother being dead.  Gone for me, no longer tangible.  I will not get used to seeing my son saddened by not ever being able to see, touch, speak to or hear his grandmother's voice.  A grandmother who so desperately waited for the day to come that she would see a grandchild.  I know I shouldn't let this get to me.  But I look at him playing, hear his sweet little voice and look at his precious smile and it just eats away at me.  It is unfair to him.  He doesn't understand why people die and why they can't just come back.  Other children might just dismiss it completely.  Big C is a very intuitive and sensitive child.  He notices things.  This will not be the last time, I know that.  But this time.  This very first time, it breaks my heart.  It sits as a stone in my belly, my heart sinking down to the same level.

Saddened as I am at this situation, I will not allow it to be a sorrowful experience for him.  So on that day, when school is over and the children meet up with their grandmothers, I will be picking him up and taking him to lunch.  Just he and I.  Little C is going to stay home with J & my Dad while Big C and I have this special day together.  After lunch, we are going to the movies and then if he isn't too tired, to the parlor for ice cream and to play a bit on the playground there.  Hopefully it will be a day he will be able to remember.  Not as the day he couldn't go to the Grandmothers Luncheon because one Grandma is far away and the other is dead, but a special day he spent with Mommy.  I have so many of those.  Days where my mom got me out of school early so we could go to lunch and a movie before my brother got out of school.  I can remember those days like they were yesterday.  She did the same with my brother while I was in school.  It was her way of showing us that we were special to her alone, in a way that only we as individuals could be.  She loved us both and treated us both equally, but always made sure we knew it separately as well.

Mom, help me to be half the Mother you have been.

-MoM-

Happy Birthday To My Darling Boy

My dearest darling little boy,

I've watched you grow over the last two years and can hardly believe my eyes.  No words could ever express how much I love you my sweet, sweet baby.  This song describes how I feel so closely.  My son, I will always love you and you will always be safe...in my arms.  I love you.

Love,

Mommy

 Your baby blues
So full of wonder
Your curley cues
Your contagious smile
And as i watch
You start to grow up
All I can do is hold you tight

Knowing clouds will raise up
Storms will race in
But you will be safe in my arms
Rains will pour down
Waves will crash all around
But you will be safe in my arms

Story books full of fairy tales
Kings and queens and the bluest skies
My heart is torn just in knowing
You'll someday see the truth from lies

Knowing clouds will raise up
Storms will race in
But you will be safe in my arms
Rains will pour down
Waves will crash all around
But you will be safe in my arms

Castles they might crumble
Dreams may not come true
But you are never all alone
Because I will always
Always love you

Clouds will raise up
Storms will race in
But you will be safe in my arms
Rains will pour down
Waves will crash all around
But you will be safe in my arms.  

--Plumb, In My Arms

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-

How I Met Your Father - Part I

A few people have asked about how I met K.  I guess I should probably start from the beginning.  Meaning the period of time right before I met him.  I've never really gone into detail about my life story or many of the major events in my life other than the birth of my children.  The death of my mother was a critical turning point in my life.  One day, I'll tell her story, which also became my story.  But for this particular entry I'm going to focus on a few months after she died.

See?  Here I am.....oops...wait...haha...I'm not 21 in this picture!  But I am kinda cute!

I was 21 years old, carefree and young with my whole life ahead of me.   I was going to college pursuing my life-long dream of becoming a veterinarian.  I was in the first semester of my second year.  My mother fell quite ill, so I decided to take the semester off to be at home with her.  I took her to her doctors appointments & such.  When she died, my world pretty much fell apart.  I spent the first few months deep in the depths of grief.  A close friend at the time, who was more like a sister to me tried to get me to go out and pull myself out of the hole that I was in.  So I did, reluctantly.  It was through her that I learned about the interwebs.  I did not have a computer.  I had no idea what the internet was or how to even use it.  Sheltered?  Umm...yeah!  But I found it amazing.  It was so cool how you could talk to people from all over.  I knew I had to get in on this!

Without going into detail about my life, its kinda boring anyway, I wasn't much of the party type.  Yes, I was 21, but I hadn't been in a bar until I turned 23.  Gasp!  Look, you are talking to a chick who ate her first taco at 21 years old, what do you expect?!  I spent much of my time at home and with my dogs.  Breeding & showing Bulldogs was something my Mom & I both had a passion for, so even though she passed away, I felt she had left me this legacy and I wanted to keep it alive.  But with that lifestyle came loneliness.  It is pretty solitary just raising puppies.  The most social interactions I ever got came from the dog shows.

Showing dogs is my most favorite sport, especially when I win!  Here I am winning Breed with my Heart dog, Whitey.  I am 22 years old.

 So in October of '98 I had saved up enough money to purchase my first computer.  With a whopping 333MHz processor.  Sounds ancient now doesn't it?  But it was one the of the faster ones of the day.  I surprised myself at how quickly I set it up.  Who knew I was such a geek so tech savvy?  Next I went out and got hooked up to the internet via....dial up.  Wait!  There is no need to wail in horror!  We couldn't get DSL where I lived.  So it was that or nothing.  It served its purpose too.

I logged into Yahoo! Chat, which now is defunct.  Shyly, I introduced myself and soon friendships began to blossom.  I met several people who I still talk to this very day, as well as K!  Crystal is my internet sissy.  I love you, girl!  Val is also my internet sister.  She also claims that she is responsible for K & I hooking up.  We let her believe that.  You should check out her blog, Mind Mumbles sometime.  She is hilarious and just an amazing writer, she makes it seem so effortless!  I also met Josh...my redneckiest friend in the world, who one day I am going to make him take me fishing since he lives like...RIGHT UP THE ROAD FROM ME!  He didn't then, but he does now!

One night though, it was really quite late I was in the country music rooms of Yahoo! chat.  This is where I spent most of my time.  I was raising a litter of puppies and it was almost time for their next feeding, so I would chat in between during the late nights.  I'm not really sure when this person entered the chat room, but somehow we both became involved in the same conversation.  He seemed nice.  Was respectful and polite.  Feeding time arrived and I never gave it another thought.  It was just like any other night.  Or was it?

Most of us who knew each other in chat usually logged in at similar times.  Josh & I were apparently insomniacs because we were on the East coast while Crystal was in Western Canada, Val in the Mid West and K was on the West coast, in California.  Seriously, I couldn't have found someone who wasn't COMPLETELY across the country from me? Alas, I digress.  This meant that I was logged in usually during the wee hours of the night/morning.  Which wasn't really a big deal since I was up all night raising puppies.


Here is where things get a bit fuzzy.  Cut me some slack, I was usually punch drunk from lack of sleep so that is why I can't remember exact details.  I don't remember exactly how K and I began our private conversation, but we did.  My first impression was that he was funny, extremely quick witted, engaging and disgustingly charming.  He was not flirtatious though.  Val messaged me and asked if I was talking to him, I told her I was.  She didn't say much more about it at the time.  


Our chats became more regular.  We began waiting on one another to show up and I clearly remember getting considerably happier when he came online.  I was getting to know him and I liked what I knew so far.  We discovered that we had many things in common.  From our values to our ideas about life, politics and even religion for the most part.  In a nutshell we were cut from very similar cloth.  After some time we exchanged photos of one another.  You could have knocked me over with a feather.  I thought he was the handsomest, sexiest and dreamiest guy I had ever seen!

I was smitten, twitterpated, call it whatever you like.  Apparently, he was too.  Lucky me!  We went on for a while with midnight chats and got brave enough to move on to the telephone.  After about a year we decided to meet.   He flew here.  I was never so nervous in my life.  Honestly, I wasn't sure we'd hit it off face to face.  Things like that can really open your eyes.  You never really *know* someone until you meet them face to face.  For me, after meeting, I thought I was in love.  Nah, I knew it was love.  He was nice, courteous, charming, decent, laid back and non-judgemental. Perfect.

March 2000 - When we first met face to face

 Self-doubt & fear rose its ugly head shortly after he left though.  I began to tell myself that I was being silly and not to expect much more than a passing hello from him again.  Even though things went so grand while he was here.  I always had a hard time believing someone could love me.  There would be another visit...much to my surprise.


To Be Continued...

Who's Birthday Is It? & The Cheesecake Cookie

So y'all probably don't know that it was K's birthday yesterday.  He turned 36.  I wanted to plan something nice for him.  But you know, the best of intentions sometimes fail.

K and I are not wealthy in any sense of the word.  We are about as average as you can get.  We have made sacrifices so that I can be a SAHM.  That means we pretty much live paycheck to paycheck.  And that is OK with us.  It isn't like our family has to go without, we just go without the *extras* when it comes to certain things.  Since Little C has been on Nutramigen, things have gotten a bit more tight in the finances department.  She goes through 3 of those big cans of powder every 2 weeks.  At 33 bucks a can plus tax, it is a little over $100.00 every 2 weeks just for her formula.  K gets paid twice a month.  So things get to be a little tight right around payday.  So planning a dinner out, or movies or anything like that was out until Friday.

I take birthdays very seriously.  I mean come on, it is a celebration of the day you were born.  I know how excited I was when my babies were born.  Those were the best days of my life!  So I have to do something on the actual day.  It just so happens that K prefers pie over cake.  So I thought about making him one of his favorite pies.  Then I remembered I used up all but a smattering of the flour when I baked bread last week.  Darn.  I thought about running out and picking some up, but I had an emergency dental appointment looming that afternoon to fix a chipped tooth.  Darn again.

I looked around the kitchen.  Rummaged through the pantry and grabbed the graham cracker crumbs.  Hmm.  The only think K likes as much as pie is cheesecake.  Checked the fridge and there was still cream cheese left from the 6 pack I bought a few weeks ago when I made carrot cream cheese muffins & marble brownies.  Score!  I moved things around looking for it but it was just the one package.  Darn...a third time.  Well...I could half the recipe and everything would be OK.  It would be a small cheesecake, but a cheesecake nonetheless!

Happily, I made my crust and then I realized the smallest pan I had was an 8.5" springform.  You have to be kidding me.  I could have sworn I had a smaller one.  Well crap.  My dental appointment time was creeping up on me.  So I decided in the words of Tim Gunn on Project Runway to "Make it work."  I baked my crust, threw in my filling, popped it in the oven and ran to get ready for my appointment.  Twenty-five minutes later I pulled it out.  It looked beautiful!  I was so excited because it didn't even crack!  Tossing it in the fridge I raced out the door to the car and zoomed off to get this chipped tooth fixed.

After getting home from the dentist, I found K feeding Big C dinner.  I hugged & kissed him, wished him a happy birthday for the 3rd time and ran back to get Little C a bottle and feed her.  It is almost time to put the kids to bed so I head out to the kitchen to get K's cake, sing happy birthday and give cards/gifts.  Big C is sitting with my dad in the living room and I yell out to him, "Come on Dad, it's time to sing 'Happy Birthday'."  To which he answers, "Singing it to who?"  Uh, how long have K & I been married?  You'd think my dad would know his birthday by now.  J gets the fridge door for me and I whip out the cheesecake.  TA DA!!!  K smiles broadly.  After setting it in front of him I flip the spring on the pan and take off the sides and look in horror.

J looks at me and says, "What the heck happened to the cheesecake?"  I almost burst into tears.  Even though the cake was fine, because I didn't have a pan that was smaller in diameter than the 8.5" spring form, my cheese cake looked more like a cookie.  With my lip quivering slightly, I recounted my earlier adventure trying to get everything together to make something.  J laughed.  K laughed.  I felt bad for a few minutes.  Then I laughed too.  Seriously, it was hilarious.  It looked so funny.  However it tasted fabulous!

Not the sharpest picture, but you can see, clearly a Giant. Cheesecake. Cookie.

Later, when K & I climbed into bed, we fell asleep laughing.  Between my dad asking who we were singing to & the cookie that was really a cheesecake, he told me it would be a birthday he would never forget.  Mission accomplished!

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

Hope Floats

~ Expect to have hope rekindled. Expect your prayers to be answered in wondrous ways. The dry seasons in life do not last. The spring rains will come again ~ Sarah  Ban Breathnach

We say it a lot.  "I hope..." has been at the beginning of many sentences for me throughout the years.  But I'm not sure I really understood what "Hope" meant.  I can look it up in the dictionary and get the definition.  But that isn't what I'm talking about.  Hope can be many different things to many different people.  Some use the term loosely while others take much caution.

When we are young, it normally takes the form of a wish.  A deep desire to "have" something.  For a child, it might be a special toy.  To the teenager, the affections of a secret crush.  As we get older though and we have experienced life, many of us come to realize that even though we have our own free will, that God has a plan for each and every one of us.  If it is His will, then it shall be done.  No matter how much we hope for a different outcome.  But being an adult, we also begin to rely more on our faith, than on our hope.  We have faith that God will provide and take care of us because we know he will, we don't have to wish for it.  

But hope isn't just a wish and it isn't just faith.  It is a combination of both.  It is something that drives us to continue to have faith to continue the fight to make that wish a reality.  

~When the world says, "Give up," Hope whispers, "Try it one more time."~

This lead me to examine what it is that gives me hope?  That list could be endless.  When my babies smile at me, it gives me hope that someday they will know how much I love them.  On days when I feel inadequate, like I could be so much better than I am, hope tells me that tomorrow will be better, if I fight hard enough for it.  Hope is the contented sigh of Little C, as she snuggles deeper into my neck at 4am after I've finished feeding her.  It tells me that she feels safe with me, she trusts me and that she loves me.  Sometimes, it is the wet, sloppy kisses from Big C, when I don't even ask for them.

My hope is that I overcome postpartum depression.  My wish is that my children never feel its effects.  I have faith in God that it won't.

What is it for you?

A Letter to an Earlier Me

Wow!  I am FINALLY getting to participate in a blog hop!  This is my first one so bear with me while I stumble through writing about something I wouldn't have thought to do on my own.


Dear Stacey,

You are 21 and deep in the wallows of grief.  But it will be OK.  You just lost your Momma, your best friend.  I know everyone keeps telling you that she is in a better place now, that she isn't suffering anymore and that time will heal.  And right now, that is so hard to believe.  Mostly because it is pure bullshit.  Time doesn't heal anything.  That wound will forever be there.  You just get used to the pain, that's all.  The next few months are going to be the worst in your life.  But it will get better.

You are going to try to go back to school, but you'll withdraw from classes.  You'll feel alone and you will be sure that you are going to stay that way forever.  Alone.  But I'm going to tell you that you are so wrong.  Because you are going to one day get the balls to buy a computer.  And is the world ever going to open up to you.  You'll meet new people from a lot of places.  Then one night, you will meet...him.  The one that makes your heart kinda race and your stomach do little flip flops.  Don't be scared though.  Self esteem never has been your strong point.  I don't think it is for any fat kid growing up.  You are OK though, you got a thick skin and moved past that.  You're shy though and you still think you are incapable of ever being loved by someone.  That no one could ever find you attractive enough to give a second glance.

He does.  He thinks you are beautiful, smart and ridiculously funny with sometimes a twisted sense of humor.  He won't find out about your potty mouth until a little later.  You will eventually meet him face to face.  It will be awkward, exciting, silly and scary.  However, you'll be glad you took the risk and met him.  You know why?  Because of him, you will get on an airplane for the first time in your life and fly three thousand miles away from home.  The place you've never been away from before.  The views and sights and experiences will be amazing and something you surely will never forget.

Know what else?  He is going to marry you.  The proposal is going to come out a bit...different, you'll both laugh...and cry.  It is going to take time though.  Having a long distance relationship is going to take its toll on both of you.  Those 10 months are going to be agony.  Lots of letter writing, emails and late night chats on the phone.  One night he's going to tell you he found a litter of kittens, 2 days old and near death.  You will coach him on how to get them out of danger and then how to care for them properly.  I kinda hate to break this to you, but he'll be bringing two of those cotton candy long-haired pain in the asses with him.  As an animal lover though, you'll be OK with that, even if you aren't a fan of cats.

I also want you to know that all of those doctors you've been to about your out of control periods, well some were right and some were wrong.  You are going to spend the next 11 years worrying about if you will ever be able to have children.  In about 4 years, it will peak because that is when you are going to get married.  You are going to go from doctor to doctor in hopes of getting a straight answer of what is going on with your reproductive system.  Everyone is going to tell you something different until one day you see a Reproductive Endocrinologist.  He'll tell you he can probably get you pregnant with medicine.  Eventually, you'll find the doctor that you stick with and who will deliver your babies.

What, you say?  Am I serious?  Yes, I am.  You are going to have babies....with an s.  Calm down, they won't be at the same time!  But they will be 14 and a half months apart.  Oh yeah sister, you have your work cut out for you!  But first I have to tell you that it isn't going to happen when you want it to.  See, you get distracted with trying to lose weight so you can be fit and healthy for a pregnancy.  Plus you've been told if you lose weight some of your girly problems will resolve.  So you did lose weight, a lot of it.  But those problems never went away.  Getting preoccupied with married life, a job that is drama central and it never seeming like the right time, you will avoid going back to the RE or talking to the doctor about Clomid.  Instead you tell yourself if it is going to happen, it will happen.

I'm sorry to say that it doesn't happen right away.  Not even after a few years.  You are going to be a bit more desperate by then.  Discussing things like IVF with your husband and the cost.  Knowing full well you will never be able to afford it on your income.  You will consider Clomid again, but find it hard to concentrate because of the hellhole that you call your job.  By the way, J was a way better boss.  She might have been crazy, needy and self absorbed but she never pretended she wasn't privileged.  You will curse the day that douchenozzle L took her place.  Well her and that mousy twat A who couldn't do her own job and did nothing but complain.  The stress from work will become so overwhelming that one day you will tell your boss you can't take anymore of her shit, and that you are quitting.  You'll say it sweetly and sarcastically at the same time and it will be freaking awesome.

Almost married seven years now, K knows you.  He knows you wouldn't have quit if it wasn't something you had to do.  He will tell you that together you'll work things out and don't worry.  One year and many interviews later you'll still find yourself unemployed.  But things are going OK on just one income.  K even gets a raise so things get a little better to boot.  Being a mother is still very much on your mind though.  You have watched A and her 3 children and have longed for your own. One night you are going to break down and cry to K and ask him if he will still love you if you can't ever give him a child.  You'll be terrified of his answer, but don't be.  K will tell you that he married you, not a baby maker.  A feeling of relief will come.  All this time you will think he resents you because you can't get pregnant.

About a month later, your period won't come...again.  You'll do nothing and just wait like you always do.  Until one day while having a funny conversation you feel your boobs and realize that they feel...different.  You'll think maybe its a precurser to your period and you'll be cranky and wicked tired.  Like, the kind of tired you've never experienced before.  During a chat with A you'll ask her if she's ever had her boobs feel heavier, bigger, different and she'll tell you only when she was pregnant.  The she'll stop dead in her tracks on the phone and squee with excitement.  You will blow her off and chuckle telling her it just won't happen that easy.  After a week you won't be able to stand it.  You'll take the test and you'll get a super dark "+" sign.

At that moment your life is going to change as drastically as it did today.  Your world fell apart this morning when the last blip on your mother's heart monitor went flat.  It is going to be hard.  Getting married, getting pregnant and having your children...without your mother being there to see it, experience it and give you advice.  Crying and missing her is really going to be full force during your pregnancy and man, once they are born you are really going to wish she was still here.  The moment you lay eyes on that darling baby the world is going to change again.  The hole that got torn into your heart today will be filled.  So yes, Stacey, things are going to get better.  It won't all be rainbows and unicorns.  Lots of rough spots litter the way.  Life will not get easier...it will get different.  And you?  You are going to be just fine.

By the way...on October 11, 2005, I need you to be more careful when going to work.  I'd like to avoid the head on collision with the bus that ended up breaking your leg.  Being laid up and rehab sucked big time.  Oh, and you'll notice I didn't tell you the sex of your babies.  That is because with at least one of them, you'll want to keep it a surprise until the big day.  Trust me, you won't be disappointed. ::wink::

Love,
Me

I'd Like To Introduce You...

to my Daughter, Little C.  Born March 24, 2010 via c-section at 8:33am, 8lbs. 3oz. and 19.5 inches.  Thank you, Lord for our beautiful, healthy and wonderful baby girl!

 I've been busy being a Mommy to Little C, Big C and trying to recuperate from the c-section.  So I apologize for not posting sooner.

In these first weeks, I will be pretty scarce.  Not just because I'm a new Mommy again, but we've an entire new schedule to try and hammer out which includes getting Big C on a new schedule as well.  Other things have been going on in the family as well which I will save for another day.  Right now, I just want to share a photo of Little C.  The birth story will have to wait for another day. *smile*  Needless to say, I'm madly in love with her and she is the perfect addition to our family.

Blessings

I've been given many more than I deserve.  My son, Big C and the baby I am now carrying are among the most notable for obvious reasons.  But I'm so grateful for my life in general.  Sure, things can be sucky at times.  I have my good days and bad days.  Everyone does.  But as a whole, I couldn't be happier.

My 13 month-old baby boy took his first steps by himself on Tuesday.  And there has been no slowing down since.  Sure, prior he's taken one to two steps on his own.  But Tuesday night...he walked 8 feet....8 FEET!  All by himself.  Well Daddy did encourage him.  Now he is doing it on his own without encouragement.  All the while a huge grin on his face.  Can I tell you?  My heart melted and I bawled my eyes out.  I was so happy and so proud of my little boy.  I was so thankful to God that I have a child to experience these things with.  I was also a little saddened because this is another sign that my darling little newborn, my infant, my baby is growing up.

Here is a video if you'd like to see him!  (You'll have to have a Facebook account but don't need to be a friend of mine to view the video)  Big C Walking

He really is an amazing kid and not just because he is mine.  I honestly get comments on him all the time.  He is just a sweet, loving little boy.  He is so good when I take him anywhere.  Even when he has to sit there for an hour.  He just looks around, smiling at people and waving as they walk by.  This kid melts my heart every time I look at him.  I am totally in love with him and I can never adequately thank God enough.  So I just try to tell Him thank you as much and as often as I can.  He is super smart.  We don't have lots of words but if you hold up a picture of a dog, or cow, pig, chicken, or horse he will make the appropriate sound.  He'll also do it if you ask him, "What does the cow say? or What sound does a pig make?"  That's my boy. :-)

I had a 3D sonogram done today and I was able to see my baby in the flesh for the first time.  I was so overcome with emotion I cried.  And I realized, again how blessed I am.  I am so thankful for my babies.  My two beautiful healthy babies.  I am gaining more and more excitement as the days grow closer.  I will miss feeling the baby move inside me, but will be crazy happy that I'm feeling him or her in my arms instead.

Thank you, Lord for all the blessings you have given me.

Sometimes things have happened that I certainly felt were not blessings.  But He knows the plan He has for me.  And His plan has lead me to a wonderful husband and two beautiful children.

63 Days Left to Go

Its my weekly update and this is for week 31!  I'm starting to get excited.  This pregnancy has been different from my last.  I have another child to take care of this time around.  My days are filled with Big C's feeding, pooping, playing, learning and all around being cute as can be.  That leaves little time to focus on this little babe.  I used to spend hours daydreaming about Big C.  What he would look like, how I would dress him up, all the things I needed to buy and how I would decorate the nursery.  I would badger my husband to help me think of names for our baby and once I knew we were having a boy...boy did my imagination soar.  I thought about all the amazing things I wanted to do with him, places to take him, things to show him and wonder if he'd look like his Daddy or what it would sound like when he spoke his first word.

I feel a little guilty.  Because I've been really focused on Big C, I've not done those things with this babe.  Most of the time I'm so exhausted that when I try to do those things while he takes a nap...I find myself taking one too.  I also don't know if we are having a boy or a girl.  It makes the surprise factor really exciting.  But a little more difficult to envision and daydream about a son or daughter.  I have to daydream about both!  Not to mention, I'm trying to focus on Big C as much as I can.  Before we know it, he won't be the only baby in the house anymore.  I don't want him feeling left out.  So I'm trying to get as much Mommy/Son time as I can with him before I won't have the opportunity to have him completely to myself.  Which is hard when lately he's decided that he only has eyes for his father and I'm chopped liver.  But that is a situation in and of itself that deserves it's own entry...at some point.

So...31 weeks.  Well, I've been feeling OK.  Really tired.  Big surprise there.  Heartburn is kicking my butt.  This pregnancy rhinitis is the pits.  I detest not being able to breathe.  Being clogged sucks.  And if I could actually blow my nose and clear it out, it would be great.  But there isn't much there.  It is all membrane swelling.  So I'm mouth breathing, couple that with my decreased lung capacity from babe taking up space and you have a huffing, puffing, wheezing, nasal-pinched, man-voiced, duck waddling, belly popping preggo chick.  Not a pretty sight.  No, really.

Waddling.  Ugh...at times I still feel like my pelvis is going to crumble.  I know this is all normal...just not comfortable.  It hurts so bad that I can't even attempt to walk normally.  Plus I have edema in the lower portion of my belly which makes bending over or down painful, and I know it will only get worse...I had it with Big C as well.  Since Big C isn't walking on his own, that means I'm running after him and hefting him from the floor up.  He weighs like...30 pounds.  I feel every muscle in my abdomen and pelvis straining each time I pick him up.

I'm peeing every 30 minutes to an hour.  The babe loves hanging out on my bladder.  I've even had 2 accidents.  Both due to sneezing.  They weren't full blown pee your pants...but it was enough.  I'd like to say it's because I'm keeping myself so well hydrated and drinking non-stop.  I drink alright but it's not a full bladder I'm emptying each time.  It's just the pressure from baby.

I still want to eat literally everything in sight.  But I have been minding my p's & q's regarding salt intake.  I've cut out the salt shaker entirely.  I avoid eating things like chips and if I do eat them only a few.  Any more than that sets me off with a raging headache.  Hopefully that will be enough to keep the BP under control.  I do get fuller faster.  So if I'm a Starvin' Marvin' I will try to stop before I finish everything and wait 15 minutes.  By then I really feel the fullness and stop chowing.  If I don't wait and keep going until I feel full, I've gone and pushed myself to the brink of misery of overeating and wanting to puke.  And let's face it, that doesn't help with the heartburn either!

The baby has been moving a lot.  I can't tell you how I adore that feeling.  It is the highlight of my pregnant day.  It is the one thing I miss most about being pregnant once the baby gets here.  I love being pregnant.  Not all the aches and pains and anxiety that go along with it.  But I love having a growing baby inside.  I love kids, and I love babies.  I kid you not...if it weren't for the fact that I am 34 years old, and that my husband and I don't have loads of disposable income, extended family to lend a hand when bring home a new baby or a house big enough...I could totally be the next Michelle Duggar.  OK...well, maybe not that many children.  But I could easily see myself with 5-8 of them.

So right now, I'm trying to spend as much time with my little boy as I can.  Enjoy each and every kick, jab, punch and bobble the babe throws at me, decide on a name, get the gear I need for the new babe together, unpacked or purchased (like a crib).  And think about the dozen other things that will need to happen before bringing home baby #2!

A Note To Fellow Bloggers, 29 Weeks Update & Random Thoughts

29 weeks already!  Sometimes it feels like it's going slow, but being busy with Big C has helped in that department.  I think I'm pretty close to making the decision to just go and schedule a c-section.  I'll wait until my next sonogram @ 32 weeks, but I'm almost 100% on going ahead with it.  I have 10 weeks until I get to see and hold this baby.  I still can't believe it sometimes.  I don't want to sound like a broken record here, but I am so truly blessed and thankful to God for my son and this newest baby.  I am not without my own trials that I've had to face, but I have been fortunate to get pregnant on my own, without medical intervention, maintain a healthy pregnancy and deliver (even if by c-section) a healthy, happy handsome little boy.  AND I am fortunate to again been able to conceive, and so far so good on maintaining a healthy pregnancy and I pray it will continue to a problem free delivery and a happy, healthy baby.

K and I got married in August of 2001.  And although we didn't immediately start trying to have a baby, we didn't prevent it either.  I've battled with female troubles since I was 14 years old.  Had my first D&C @ 14 then had to have another @ 16.  My hormones have never cooperated and were in *wacky* mode all the time.  Skipping a period or 2 then bleeding non-stop for the better part of 8 weeks.  I have been put on probably 3/4 of the birth control pills known to man in order to try to regulate my cycle.  Some worked, some didn't.  I've had ovarian cysts in the past as well.  After I got married, I began weaning myself off the BC pills...hoping that my cycles would continue to be normalish.  And for a while they were.  Normalish for me is just having a cycle once a month.  I never have and never will be an every xx day kinda girl.  One month it'll be a 25 days cycle, the next month it's 32 days.  Long story short, after a few months I kicked the BC completely and was cycling once a month.  The months passed, and so did the years and I never conceived.  Hubs and I pretty much gave up on the notion of it happening for us.  We talked and thought about fertility treatments of various sorts and the potential of having to consider IVF if Clomid wasn't successful.  And IVF was just something we could not afford.  We just didn't have that kind of money to put out in a chunk.  So we decided that if God had planned for us to have a child or children, then it would happen.  It was out of our hands.  God did have a plan and he did give us a beautiful son.  He decided when, not me.  You know, 6+ years is a long time when you are TTC.  I know what the longing feels like.  I know that twinge you feel when you see mothers with their babies.  When you see friends and family having babies, and there you sit with an empty womb and empty arms.  I was never jealous, but I did hope that one day, I'd have a baby of my own to love and cherish.

I follow many blogs.  And I have been there with you when you have written about your disappointment of a BFN.  The profoundness of experiencing a loss, be it before or after a delivery.  I have sat here and shed countless tears for you...with you.  I have prayed for you.  I have gone to bed at night thinking of you and admiring your strength, courage and faith.  For those of you that have experienced wonderful things after such heartbreak, I have laughed, jumped up and down and cried with happiness for you.  And for those still waiting, I wait with you, praying and hoping that you find the happiness you are seeking.  I'm not a stalker...seriously.  But just so you know, you have another person in your corner, rooting you on and ready to celebrate your victory.

OK, so I know that was a bit heavy so on to 29 week news.  I see my doctor again in a few weeks and I really need to ask him.  "Why does my crotch feel like it's going to fall out?"  No, really.  It's not the baby-feels-like-it-is-going-to-fall-out pressure.  It's my pelvis.  I think I can hear it crying.  It hurts SO bad.  It hurts to just walk, but if I try to swing a leg over a gate, or heck just lift it up high enough to step into the tub to take a shower it feels as though it is going to crumble.  I never had this with my first pregnancy, so I am assuming it might have something to do with only having 6 months to recover from a 9 month pregnancy and a c-section before getting pregnant again.  By week definition I am 7 months pregnant.  I've been experiencing and expecting discomforts.  But this one in particular is totally new for me.

Sleeping is off and on sucky.  Some nights are good, others...meh.  Half of it is because I get clogged and can't breathe...thank you sinuses and allergies.  I'm still tired, but I found myself needing a nap while the boy napped this morning.  Not that I felt like taking a nap.  I mean I needed it.  The babe still moves a bit erratically, which throws me into panic mode.  But I keep reminding myself as long as I feel something no matter how subtle, things are OK.  This was the part that drove me crazy with Big C.  I wanted him out because I couldn't stand not being able to *check* on him all the time.  So if he decided to take a snoozer day, I freaked thinking something was wrong.  On the same note, I wanted him in because inside he was protected from all the outside dangers.

I was talking to a friend of mine yesterday and I'm coming to the realization while talking to her that being a parent, a mommy isn't just hard in the sense of the word.  But I find myself worrying about Big C all the time.  I mean even in the sense of him being an adult.  I want him to grow up into a good man.  Not an alcoholic or drug addict or a player who just uses and manipulates women.  I want him to want to be a good man himself.  I don't want him doing stupid things like drinking and driving or getting into a car with someone who has.  I see news reports of someone running a child over with a car only to leave the scene and my heart stops for a moment, worried that that fate could find my son.  And that is only part of it.  More immediately the thoughts rolling in my head are how boys do silly and risky things to show off.  How am I going to teach him to be cautious without being afraid to try new things?  I mean sometimes it can be a fine line between going out for the football team and wanting to do stunts on a dirt bike.  No, really!

I don't want to be the crazy mother who never lets him do anything, or sends him out of the house with bubble wrap duct taped to his entire body.  But I also don't want to just let him "Live & Learn".  I can't.  He is a child and doesn't know *how* live and learn works!  What lesson will have been taught to him if he kills himself or ends up in the hospital paralyzed?  I am a chronic worry wart.  And yeah, I probably should be seeking therapy for it before I make my children worse than me.  For now, I'll just continue to pray that he and the baby stay safe, make good decisions and ask the Lord to keep them and protect them.  After all it is His plan and if anyone can keep them from harm, it is Him.

-MoM-

Happy, Happy Birthday Baby

My Dearest Big C,

It was one year ago today that I was first able to lay eyes upon your beautiful face. You are one year old today and I can hardly believe it. I know it has been written before, but I want to tell you again, just so you understand just how much you are loved and how much you were are wanted. It is the story of your life so far...but it started with my own. So listen carefully my darling boy because today, in this letter you will realize that there is no one on Earth who loves you as much as I do.

I always knew I wanted you. From a little girl, I always knew I wanted to be a mommy. I also wanted to be a veterinarian, a doctor and lawyer...but whether or not I ever got to be those things, what never changed was the fact that I wanted to be a mother. Your mother. Partly it stemmed from my own relationship with my mother. I loved her. More than anything. There was no one that could make me feel so loved, so important, so special and so wanted like my mommy. Feeling her arms around me when she hugged me was the best. She was so safe and warm and comfortable. I looked up to her and I longed to one day have a child of my own to pour that love and adoration into. A child that I could raise, watch grow up and be proud of the person I had a hand in shaping and encouraging. I so wanted a baby. I so wanted you.

Your grandma got sick when I was just 6 years old. She nearly died in the hospital. She was supposed to slip into a coma, never to awake while the infection ravaged her body. Her doctor feared it would be imminent, there wouldn't be enough time for the medication to do its job and your grandma would succumb before it ever had a chance to save her. However, your grandma....well she had other plans. She loved your Uncle Jim and I so much, she couldn't bear the thought of leaving us. He was 16 and I was 6 and all she could think about was us. She was so, so tired. Only wanting to close her eyes and go to sleep, even though she knew she would never wake up. But that meant leaving Uncle Jim and I behind. And she just couldn't bear the thought. So your grandma was determined to stay awake. To fight the darkness that was creeping upon her. The only way she could think to stay awake was by keeping her mind sharp. She figured if she said multiplication tables, out loud to keep her mind moving and awake, she might be able to stay awake long enough for the medicine to work. So all night long your grandma laid in her hospital bed, saying her times tables. Nurses looked at her and shook their heads, thinking she was going delirious and that it wouldn't be very long. But something else happened. She started to get a bit stronger. She wasn't as tired and her mind wasn't as clouded. By the next morning she was wide eyed, although very tired from no sleep at all. It wasn't the same kind of tired the infection was causing. Much to everyone's surprise, your grandma wasn't in a coma that morning and she certainly hadn't left us! After some blood work that was done immediately, the doctor was able to see that grandma had improved a little. She fought and she won!

Now it is important that I tell you grandma hadn't completely won the battle. The infection damaged her liver badly and they only gave her two years to live. But we are talking about your grandmother, and there was no way she was going down without a fight. She loved us very much and she tried, Big C. She tried very hard to make it long enough to see you. Because you see...I wanted you, but your grandma wanted you too! She couldn't wait until the day came when I would get pregnant with you and she would get to hold you in her arms. She had big plans for you. She envisioned a little cart, hooked up to one of the miniature horses and you driving the horse down our long driveway. She wanted to teach you all of your nursery rhymes and your ABCs. She wanted to spoil you, love you, adore you, snuggle you and shout to the world how much she loved her grandbaby. And she tried to make it long enough to do those things with you. So even though they said only 2 years, your grandma fought for another 12 years after that. But this time, when she got sick, she couldn't convince her body to listen to her mind. It had plans of it's own and so on June 18, 1997 at 8:36am your grandma left this world to go walk with the Lord in Heaven.

I was 21. I was going to college with plans of being a veterinarian. I quit going just before grandma died so I could help take care of her and spend time with her and be close to her. I had no boyfriend. Marriage wasn't even a thought in my mind. I hadn't ever even been on a date! I was heartbroken when your grandma left us. About a year and a half later, I met your father and fell in love with him. On August 11, 2001 your daddy and I got married. We were going to get married a week earlier, but that fell on your Grandma's birthday and I wanted that day to be her own, so we bumped it up a week. I was 25 years old then. I was so happy. Because I knew that now, I could have you! I had waited for you for so long. But I had to find the man who would be your daddy first! And he wasn't easy to find! After a few years your daddy and I tried for you. But, you wouldn't come. We tried some more, and you just weren't ready to come yet. After almost 7 years, your daddy and I decided that maybe God had decided that you were supposed to go to someone else and not us. So we decided to take a break from trying so hard. That if and when God decided you were to come to us, then it would happen. Well wouldn't you know it? About 6 months later you decided to show up! Finally! I wanted you so badly and for so long and finally you were coming! I was so nervous and so scared that now that I had you, something might happen and I would lose you. I prayed all the time, asking God to protect you, and keep you healthy.

Big C, I don't think I'll ever be able to accurately describe what being pregnant with you was like for me. It was scary and I was an emotional wreck through most of it. I had just wanted you so, so badly. You were all I ever dreamed of and I was so afraid that it was some kind of dream and that I wouldn't be able to hold you in my arms one day. I cried all the time. I hadn't even seen your face and I loved you more than anything in the world. You would party like crazy in my belly and then scare me half to death when you up and stopped because you wore yourself out and needed a day or two to recuperate. On more than one occasion I found myself sitting in the doctor's office waiting for the doppler to hear your heartbeat, only to have you wallop me just as he walked through the door. How I loved feeling you move inside me. The day I longed for was quickly approaching. The day I got to see your face, hold you in my arms and say, "Hello, Son."

The day you were born...one year ago exactly has been the happiest day of my life. Is it really possible to love something...someone so much? Yes, it is. When the doctor pulled you from my uterus during your c-section and poked your head over the big blue tarp and I saw you for the first time...I cried. Tears of joy sprang from my eyes at the sight of the child I had wanted and waited so long for. The moment they put you in my arms and I looked into your beautiful blue eyes was love at first sight. We had a rough start you and I. You cried all the time because you were hungry and I just didn't make enough milk. You turned yellow with jaundice, couldn't got potty and we spent 2 nights with you in the hospital under those bright blue lights. I cried and I prayed for you to get better. I sobbed each time they pricked your little heel to check your blood and after coming home I finally decided no more and put you on formula. You were much happier then. That was a hard decision for me because I wanted to be able to give you everything you needed. But, I had to do it differently now. Those first weeks were wonderful. I rocked you endlessly. Breathing you in, the smell of your freshly washed hair and skin. I loved giving you those little massages and you falling asleep during them. The late nights of just holding you and looking at you. I just couldn't and I still can't get enough of you.

And Big C, it's going by too fast. Before I know it you will be 21. I cherish the moments that I have with you. Our lazy mornings, where you lay over top my leg, sippy cup in hand watching Mickey Mouse. Or when you curl up against me, a little sigh escaping those pouty lips. It's getting harder to hold you, rock you and snuggle because you just want to move and be a part of everything around you. I look at you and my eyes well up because I can still hear the mew-mew-mew you'd make as you took your bottle. The way you'd smack your little lips when I gave you cereal for the first time. I love how you bend your head down repeatedly because you want forehead kisses or how you give us a cheesy grin when you get naked for bath time. How you strain to look over your daddy's shoulder in the bath tub to smile at me. I love how I can look at you and say, "What are you doing?" and you smile mischievously at me and continue to do something you clearly shouldn't.

Over the course of this year I have watched you grow, develop and learn. Its been a year full of sleepless nights, blissful mornings, aching backs, sweet kisses, warm hugs, snugly Pooh bears, temper tantrums, eyes fluttering to the sound of my singing a lullaby, teething, vaccines, a first cold, colic and gas, bilirubin lights, diapers, bottles, toys and baby wipes. Balmex, pacifiers, rice cereal and rubber duckies. Teething rings and cradle swings. Carters onesies, flannel sleepers with feet, disgusting new foods and yummy bananas as treats. You've 8 teeth with a bicuspid making it's debut. You can pull yourself up to standing and stand by yourself without holding on for quite a while now. You have even taken your first step alone on December 23....tiny as it was. Fondness for icy cold milk, splashing, music and dancing and giggling and laughs that make my heart melt. You have made me complete, Big C. For so long you had been missing, but you are here now and I savor each and every moment with you.

So always know sweet baby...You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know dear, how much I love you.....No one will love you like I do, my baby. Happy Birthday my wonderful, darling, sweet little precious boy.

I love you forever.

Love,

Your Mommy

God's Masterpiece

From graceful lilies pure and white,
God fashioned lovely skin,
Forgetmenots he chose for eyes,
Then formed your baby chin.
He took a tulip bright and red --
'Twas one that did not fade;
A softer, sweeter little mouth
Before was never made.
Another flower next He used --
A rosebud, pink and fair;
Touched it to your dimpled cheeks
And bade it blossom there.
Then with His magic fingers picked
Two morning glories white;
Curled and shaped your little ears,
Soon they were fastened tight.
That crowning bit of golden down
Will soon become your hair;
He gathered pollen from the flowers,
And sprinkled it with care.
For dainty little fingers dear
And precious, tiny toes,
He used slender daisy frills;
A snowdrop made your nose.
This world and all within it
He created here for man;
But Baby was "God's Masterpiece"
Since time and life began!

--Dora Dinsmore

Merry Christmas Eve and 27 Weeks!

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I'm excited...and tired.  Seems I end nearly everything with "I'm tired" these days. *Smiles* But that's OK.  I have a very good reason for it. *wink* I can hardly believe that I'm under the 100 day mark.  We are sitting at 91 days left to go.  I'm headed out of the 2nd Trimester and into the 3rd! Only 3 months left! I still haven't made my mind up if I'm going to just schedule a c-section or try for a VBAC this time.  I'm still at the "Let's wait and see" point.  I do find myself going back and forth with it.  

I'm feeling "Lil' Stinker" move regularly which always puts a smile on my face.  Waiting for a sleepy baby to move has to be one of the most nerve wracking things ever in pregnancy.  Not to mention with it being holiday time, the last thing I would want to have to do is call the doctor (on Christmas) with worries about the babe not moving to drag him out and get walloped just as he walks through the office door.  So I pray baby decides to be active, but not have such a party that he/she rocks themselves out to the point of having to take the whole day off to rest to make up for the partying this weekend.  My next appointment is Monday.  I am assuming my glucose challenge test came back normal, they didn't call me to tell me it was otherwise, so that is a relief.  

You know, I wish I would have done the same thing I see other bloggers have done with their pregnancies...weekly updates on how you are feeling, cravings, milestones and best part of the week, etc.  I would have liked to do that with my first pregnancy too.  But, I was already pregnant when I began this blog, and this time around I was so caught up in Big C I nearly forgot I even had a blog!  Oh well, maybe next time...Lord willing. *smiles*  I am already feeling some aches and pains, nothing on the contraction front, just and occasional squeeze here and there.  My cousin came by today to pick up the Christmas presents she had shipped to my house for her daughters and had to double take.  She was surprised at just how *round* I am.  She just looked at me and said, "Wow, no way to mistake that pregnant belly."  I've popped considerably in the last 2 weeks.  I am waddling like a duck already, knocking things off my table and counter top and bending over....ugh...it's the pits.  I have to be holding onto something or I'm afraid I'll go overboard!  I try to avoid it as much as I can.  However, Big C takes great delight in just flinging EVERYTHING onto the floor these days.  I'm hoping it's a phase. *wink*

This is Big C's very first Christmas.  I'm thrilled to be blessed enough to experience it and discover its wonders with him. He's still too young to understand anything, but I love how I can already see the wonder and beauty of Christmas in those big blue eyes of his.  This is my best Christmas by far.  No, we aren't loaded down with presents, which don’t reflect the true meaning of Christmas anyway.  But we have some well thought out gifts for each other and those we love.  It is never about the quantity but the thought behind what was given.  My greatest gift this year is having a Christmas and a beautiful child to spend it with, for the first time since my mom passed away.  I said if I ever had a child, we would have Christmas, like we used to, again.  And we are.  I am eagerly awaiting settling down tonight, dressing Big C in his Christmas pajamas and tucking him in for the night.  We are charging the battery for the camcorder, the cameras are set and ready to go for tomorrow morning and the stockings have been hung.  Presents have been put under the tree and the last thing I'm waiting on is....baking cookies.  

Ugh.  I have all the stuff.  It's just sitting there on my counter...waiting to be put together.  And I really want to do it...because I want cookies darn it!  And not just any cookie...I was THESE cookies.  I wish they could just make themselves.  I've been preoccupied with getting presents wrapped; taking care of Big C and dealing with a whopper of a sinus infection this week...I just haven't been able to bring myself to do it.  I keep saying"OK, going to do it today" and today comes and goes and it's tomorrow!  But I just don't feel like baking a boatload of cookies while I'm sick.  But I really wanna eat them.  REAL BAD.  Well, they are the yummiest cookies ever!  But anyway....I'm gonna move on, I'm depressing myself over these cookies.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow.  Big C should have a ball ripping open his presents....he loves shredding paper...and eating it.  Sometimes I think he is part goat.  I know I'm going to bawl my eyes out when I put him to bed tonight because of it being the first Christmas and everything.  And I'll probably be bawling my eyes out tomorrow to while I watch him open presents.  Oh!  And his birthday....his 1st BIRTHDAY is 7 DAYS AWAY!  I can't believe it.  My bald baby...who has beautiful blonde hair now...is going to be a year old!  I'm just....I can't believe it went by so fast.  I've been busy putting plans together for his party.  Nearly everything is up in the air except for the theme.  It's a Mickey Mouse Clubhouse Birthday Party.  He LOVES that show and dances to the Hot Dog song.  So while I'm ironing things out for his party, I've been gathering his Mickey Mouse stuff.  

Speaking of Big C and dancing.  There is no doubt that he is my mother's grandson.  Anyone who knew my mom knew how she loved Elvis Presley.  Seriously, I think she was his #1 fan.  I'm rather fond of his music myself and listened to a CD quite a bit while I was preggo with Big C.  But there is a commercial that comes on television for Verizon vs. AT&T and the music is Elvis singing "Blue Christmas."  Every time it comes on, Big C's head jerks around and he starts swinging his head...and hips (naturally...it's Elvis) and really getting into it.  He does the same thing when another commercial comes on with the "All Shook Up" song.  It is hilarious and at the same time just fills my heart because I know...I just know that my Mom is in there somewhere.  She gave him her love of Elvis!  *laughs*  Oh!  Yesterday, he also took his very first step...alone.  Not holding onto anything.  I nearly burst with excitement.  He only did it the one time...but hey...at least he did it!  I'm so proud of him.

I really wish K didn't have to work today.  The train is running a holiday schedule too, which means he won't get home until around 8pm.  Bummer.  I wanted to get some last minute preparations done and could use his help.  But, it will be fine.  I know why my mom loved this holiday so much.  Not only are we celebrating the birth of our Lord and Savior, who was the greatest gift of all.  But it is a time to celebrate all God's blessings, our families, friends and the relationships we have with them.  A time to help those in need and to pray and remember those who have suffered losses and who are less fortunate than ourselves.  So thank you, God, for giving us your only Son, Lord Jesus.  And thank you for giving me all the blessings you have this year and those past.  And I pray that you will bestow blessing upon others in the coming year!  Amen! 

Merry Christmas, and a healthy and prosperous New Year and may God bless you all!