Tuesday, May 15, 2018

It Was An Accident, I Swear



OK. So something happened today.

You see, when the baby was born, he had kind of a folded ear. He must have been laying on it in the womb or something. No biggie, the ENT just taped it down for a few weeks. The worst part of it was that he needed to have a bit of his hair shaved off so that the tape would stick.

Anyway, the ear was fixed and the tape came off, but now he had a patch of hair missing, that just looked strange.

Wednesday, May 9, 2018

It Mattered In The End

****** TRIGGER WARNING******

This post deals with the subject of death, and although I think that the overall message is worth discussing, I respectfully wish to warn you that some may find this post to be upsetting. Should you choose not to proceed through this one, I look forward to your return next time.

*********************

Towards the end of winter last year, we had an unseasonably nice day that also happened to fall on a weekend. Finally able to enjoy venturing out of the house again, The Guy and I were looking for something fun to do. But after contemplating how crowded the zoo would be, and realizing that most of the farms near us were still closed, I suggested that we do something different, and visit the local historic cemetery.

Yes I did.

“A… cemetery…” The Guy said slowly, as if he were trying to mentally absorb the meaning of the words.

“Yes” I said. “Where they bury people.”

“Why would we do that?” he asked.

“Why not?” I asked back.

And because he is exactly my type of person, off we went to the cemetery, taking the kids with us.

We spent the next four hours wandering through the rows of headstones, while the kids did crayon rubbings over the words. The Guy and I chatted about the husbands and wives who were buried side by side, and contemplated what life must have been like for them to have either lived decades without each other, or passed away only days apart. We saw the headstones of families that clearly had died in wealth, while others eluded to the fact that they most likely died while living in poverty. There were men with multiple wives resting next to them; proof of the intimate moments they had gone on to lead — one after another — without the one that they had left behind. And then there were families with centuries of descendants who had died decades before others were born, all grouped together; sharing nothing more in common then a last name, an ending fate, and the fact that their physical resting place will spent forever together.


Wednesday, April 18, 2018

I'm Lost, And I Have No Idea Where I'm Actually Supposed To Be




*************

"Uh... you won't let me in?" I asked, the confusion written all over my face.

"Sorry" she said flatly, giving no other indication that she actually cared.

"Um... but... this is a support group... and... I need support. I called yesterday and they said that everyone is welcome. I even got a babysitter and drove 30 minutes here" I said, adding in that last bit for the sympathy factor.

"Well yes, all are welcome, at the beginning of the 12 week session" she stated. "The divorce support group is more of a class than a group, and we require that everyone start at the beginning. We aren't currently at the beginning, we are 3 weeks in, so you will have to come back in 9 weeks and then you will be welcome."

No one had relayed that vital bit of information to me over the phone.

She then closed the door to the not-very-supportive divorce support group that was actually a very strict class, and left me standing in the hallway of a church.

It had been a year and a half since my husband had left and I was having a difficult time. Initially I had jumped right into a relationship with someone else, and if anything, it had only served to deflect a lot of the issues that I really needed to be dealing with. When that relationship had gone down like an atomic bomb, I was left standing for the first time, truly alone, and in the destruction of what was left of my life.


I had absolutely no idea where to turn.

So I didn't turn anywhere, instead, sinking inside of myself and shutting everyone out.

I remember one night in particular where I was lying on my bed, face down in my pillow, and bawling my eyes out. In the midst of my tears, the doorbell rang. I crawled over to my window so that no one outside would see me, and I peeked out to see two of my best friends standing on my front porch.

I could hear them out there talking to each other "she has to be home, her car is outside. Do you think she is OK?" but I couldn't bring myself to get out of bed and answer the door. After what seemed like an eternity, they left and sent me a text that read "We left a case of diapers for The Boy Child and a carton of ice cream for you on your front porch. We hope you are OK. It's alright if you don't want to talk, but just at least let us know you are OK."

I texted them back, apologized, thanked them for their kindness, and I felt awful.

Friday, March 23, 2018

Welcome To The World Little One (Also Known As The Day I Screamed At Everyone)

Wow. These last few weeks have been quite the frenzy of activity, but what is life with a newborn if not a little bit hectic?

In the event that you missed my Facebook announcement, The Littlest joined our family on March 2nd. Tipping the scales at 7lbs 6oz, he was my biggest baby yet, but not at all the ginormous baby that the doctor had said I might expect.


Thank you Jesus.

Especially, because the labor and delivery was hard enough as it was.

P.S. I would like to speak to whomever conjured up the theory that so many have tossed my way in the last several months, when they said “being your third, this labor should be easy!” because that person lied.

LIES.

Seriously, lies.

With The Girl Child, I went from 1cm to having her in my arms, in nine minutes. Yes, truth. With The Boy Child, labor was six hours long, going from 6cm to in my arms, in less than 30 minutes.

With The Littlest?

FOURTEEN FREAKING HOURS.

Friday, March 2, 2018

By The Time You Read This...


Yesterday, my friend and I went out to celebrate my last day of freedom, before I have a baby to tend to again, because by the time many of you read this tomorrow (Friday), I will already be in the hospital, preparing to have The Littlest.

Yay!!

I really cannot believe that baby boy held out this long, but the day is here! I have so many feelings coming at me right now, and thanks to hormones, they all feel very overwhelming.

I’m excited.

I’m nervous.

I’m scared.

Because of my genetic disorder, I’m a high-risk delivery, with a known hemorrhage risk (remember that terrifying rhino-septoplasty I had?) and that's been weighing on my mind a lot, so please pray for me. My biggest fear is not one of dying, but one of leaving my children motherless.

But anyway, I’m getting morbid here and this is supposed to be a happy post!

THE BABY IS COMING!!!

Tuesday, February 20, 2018

Sex, Diagrams, And A Cheesecake

* If the pictures appear blurry, select the desktop version on your mobile device*

In case you didn't pick up on this from my last post, I am very, very, extremely ready to have this baby. Even more now, since I dislocated my hip (stupid genetic disorder) not long after hitting "publish" on the last post, and it's really difficult to heal a hip with all this extra baby weight pressing on it.

Awesomeness.

And my poor husband, well let's just say that the man should get some kind of medal, or nomination for sainthood, because I think that the wife he married and loves, has recently been replaced by a ball of weeping, eating, complaining, hormones.

I'm the green, and my saint of a husband is the gray, texting from his place of work.


Thursday, February 15, 2018

Baby Update




**If the photos appear fuzzy, select the desktop view on your mobile device**

Is it just me, or have I been pregnant forever?

Because seriously, it feels like it’s been forever…

I’m 37 weeks pregnant, and I really can’t believe I made it this far. With my first two, I had preterm labor that landed me on bedrest a few months before my due date. So this time, when I ended up in the hospital at 21 weeks, contracting regularly, and scared out of my mind, I was sure that he was going to be born very, very, early.

But nope!

Now he doesn’t want to get out.