fournineteen

holding on

I'm really struggling lately. It's been effort to get out of my own head- I'm better off at work, where my mind can easily focus on the task at hand. When I'm home, the edges begin to blur and the world starts to feel like it's caving in on me.

I'm trying to make positive changes in life; trying to move ahead and past the things that have held me back. I don't know that I'm on the right path. I don't know how I'll ever know if I am or not. I suppose that's what faith is all about.

So, for now, when I'm feeling really overwhelmed and more than a little hopeless, I'm in need of this simple act of writing down those things that are good and real and hope that I can hold tight to them and let the other shit go.

- Sophia singing along with her toys.
- Hunter educating me on the finer points of our DVR.
- Freshly dyed hair.
- A freshly made bed, waiting for me after a certain bean goes to sleep.

happy birthday, sophia belle

So a pretty amazing thing happened two years and one day ago.

I remember that day with a weird kind of clarity. I was exactly a month away from my due date and I'd been hearing weird little noises coming from the area that used to be my stomach (and was at that time being used as an incubation chamber). If you've ever been in a pool and cracked your knuckles - you know that odd little hollow sound that you'd hear under water? That sound - I'd been hearing it for a few days. I called my doctor's office who basically dismissed me as sounding crazy and since I had no bleeding or anything said they'd see me at my scheduled appointment that Wednesday.

I was unemployed at the time, and Hunter was in kindergarten. I would spend most of my days sitting at my kitchen table because the kitchen chair seemed to be the only place where I felt semi-comfortable. That's where I was when it was time to start the pick up routine and when I got up to get out of my chair, something just felt wrong - like my blood pressure spiked and my head was full of some kind of weird pressure. I called my mom and asked her if she would pick up Hunter from school. I called Jason and told him something felt weird, but that I was okay, and if anything changed I'd ask my stepfather to drive me to the hospital. I texted my friend and laughed and told her I was going to shave my legs just in case I went into labor.

The rest of the night progressed normally. I cooked dinner. I ate dinner. I rested on the couch with what I thought were Braxton-Hicks contractions. Around 8:00 I gave up and decided to watch Mrs. Doubtfire in the bed. Around 8:15, I felt sick, went to the bathroom and I remember thinking "boy I had to pee." And then - what do you know. Blood. And a lot of it. I called the doctor. I grabbed the bag I had packed that morning (and laughed with my mom about how it was too soon to do so) and off we went to the hospital. I remember being in triage and Oprah coming on the TV at 9:00. An ultrasound confirmed my water had broken. An exam confirmed I was about 2cm dilated. And then the monitor confirmed my baby's heart rate was dropping.

Before I knew it, I was alone in an operating room. Well, alone isn't quite correct - I was alone with about 25 nurses, an anestiologist and my OB. I got the extreme pleasure of having my stomach taped, a catheter inserted and whatever else happening all before I got any kind of knock out juice. I remember a nurse saying to me "remember this is all for the baby."

And then I remember waking up. There was no baby with me. I was alone with the same nurse who had checked me in a few hours back. I looked at the clock and it was around 11:00. I asked her if the baby was okay - she said she was. I asked her if she was with her daddy - again, she said she was. I had no idea what had happened, I had no idea what was going on, but I felt okay because they told me she was okay.

A little while later, I met that sweet faced little girl who was just 5 pounds 5 ounces, healthy, mild mannered and absolutely perfect (if tiny). When she had her first bath, she was red faced, angry, cold and all the things you'd expect a newborn to be. I spent most of that first night not sleeping, but sitting up looking at her face in complete awe as she slept soundly in the bassinet next to me. She was completely healthy and a complete amazement to me. I never imagined the love I had for my son could be expounded and transformed and wide enough to hold another, but there it was and I somehow felt that this was how things were meant to be.

(It turns out, our placenta had a tear in it, which is what kickstarted my labor. I don't know if the popping sound I was hearing was related, and no one could tell me either way. I don't know that they ever believed I was hearing it.)

By completing our little family, that perfect little baby made my heart whole. I learned a little more about my heart's capacity for love. I learned again how when you love something outside yourself so much, how it hurts in the very best way.

Happy birthday, Sophia Belle. Thank you for making me whole.

february & march - a picture post

I had intended on taking daily pictures and blogging them. That's obviously been a bust. But hey, I still take pictures. With my phone. I mean - if it's good enough for Annie Leibovitz* why not me?

So, here you have a few pictures I took over the past month or so. Enjoy!

 

*Don't even think I'm seriously trying to compare my own lame ass "photography" to the fucking genius of Annie Leibovitz - but I did see an interview with her and Brian Williams where she said the iPhone was the best thing to keep on you for daily picture taking, and who am I to question her?

 

i can do that

So lately I've been moody. A bit more so than would be normal, I suppose, and my poor family gets to bear the brunt of it. The quick blame always goes to "the bipolar," but as anyone with any kind of functioning mental illness knows, that's a really difficult pill (so to speak) to swallow. I'm not willing to write off my emotions as the result of some chemical imbalance - and I'm also not willing/ready/at the point where I feel I need to seek treatment.

(Caveat: I have zero issue with anyone seeking therapy for any mental need, and I'm usually the first or the loudest to encourage my friends into or along with their therapy. I've seen my share. I just don't like the whole chemical side of things. I don't like the thought of taking a pill to control my emotional self. And, yes, it's an illness just like any other illness, and if that illness was physical (in the non-brain sense), I'd be quick to treat it with medicine if that's what it takes. And around and around my head goes.)

So, here's the dealie-o: I need to make some changes. Nothing drastic because, let's be honest: life is good. My family is good. My job is good. (Hey did I mention that I applied for - and got - a promotion? Yay, me.) My mental stability is out of whack, and this is showing in my eating habits and lack of exercise. Jason (and several others) always tells me how I need to put myself first. It's really, really hard for me, and maybe that's where I need to shift my focus. Maybe that's where I need to seek some therapy: Why am I carrying all this guilt? Well, scratch that: I know the why. But why can't I let it go? Why am I still trying to make up for the mistakes I've made? Mistakes that will never be made up for, but mistakes I know have been forgiven (if not yet completely healed).

But until I get off my ass and get into therapy, let's concentrate on getting off my ass and making real, concrete changes.

1. Eat less junk food. I'm not willing to be on a strict diet. I am, however, willing to be mindful of what I'm putting into my body. (NOTE: This does not include giving up Diet Coke. Diet Coke, I love you. But we may need to spend less time together.) Whole foods, tasty foods, foods I like but that require effort to cook and prepare. I can do that. Hell, I even enjoy doing that. So that's what I'm going to do.

2. Exercise. I won't say "more" because I haven't been exercising at all with any kind of regularity. But the time has changed now - it's lighter later, and that means there's no excuse not to get out and get moving. In addition to the exercise and what benefit it has, it's also some alone time. And I need just a bit of that a few days a week, for sure.

And that's where we'll leave it. Two is a small list, but those are some pretty major things. Neither of them will take a huge adjustment, but both will take determinaton and focus. I can do that.

i carry him in my heart

I met my husband in March 1995. Next year, he will officially have been in my life longer than I ever lived without him. This fact is basically more mind blowing to me than any birthday (hello 35, I see you sneaking up behind me there) could ever be.

We married in 2003, We (ok mostly him) got so much more than we bargained for. It's been rough in a lot of spots but in the end it's been worth it. He's put up with so much more than he ever should have to, and yes he makes me crazy a lot of the time. But he's everything I need, and I'm so glad and humbled that we're still together, still going strong, still putting up with each other and celebrating with each other every day. I'm not good at the mushy love stuff, but if I was, I'd tell you how honored I am to have married this man, how honored I am that I got to carry and birth and raise his children, how INSANE he makes me with his habits, but how they're so familiar they're pretty much my own. I'd tell you how he can make me laugh, how he makes me feel so beautiful even when there's no makeup on my face and I'm dressed as simply as I could ever be. I'd tell you how generous he is, how kind, how big hearted and sensitive he is. I'd tell you, simply enough, my life would be incomplete without him in it.

picture post: january fifteenth through twenty-first

I'm woefully late on posting these, but late last week Sophia and I both came down with a case of the ickies. Thankfully we're feeling better now, and things are coming back to normal around the house.

Hunter has been going through a bit of a rebellious phase. He's 8 now. I had to buy him his own deodorant. His bedroom always has that BOY smell. We're struggling with things like incomplete homework, not listening, subpar grades. He's been tested for the gifted program; I'm pretty sure he's bored at school and feels like he can't be bothered with the work they're giving him. But oh goodness, we're having a time trying to help him understand that - like it or not - this is what he's got to do. No excuses.

 

but now i must be leaving

One of the hardest lessons in life I've ever had to learn is when to let go of a friendship. A friendship isn't like a romantic relationship - there isn't some clear defined line of being "with" someone, and sometimes you just drift apart from someone you were once close to. That's life - people change, and some people change with you. Some don't.

I've drifted apart from friends in my life, sure. Some of them I sometimes keep in contact with through Facebook, but let's be honest - if it wasn't for internet intervention, there would be no contact at all. I'm okay with that. There aren't any negative feelings, there's just time and space and distance.

But there have been times in my life where I've had to consciously decide that this person is not worth my friendship - or that I am worth more than what the relationship is giving me, and that's not always an easy decision.

Now, to be fair, I'm not always the best friend. I'm moody. I'm distant. I'm cagey with my emotions. I confess that I'm sometimes jealous of your good fortune and I may not get as ooey gooey gushy as you'd hope I would. But when you need me, I'm there. I'm cheering you on, even if it's from afar. I'm going to listen to you, be your counselor, your sounding board, your frame of reference. I'm going to be honest (and okay sometimes I'm maybe a touch too honest, but you love me for it) and even if I don't agree with something you're hellbent on doing, I'm going to support you if it's something you really feel you need to do.

I've caught myself at numerous points in my life trying really, really hard to be liked by specific people. I seem to zero in on someone and feel like I really need that person's approval and do whatever I think I need to do in order to get it. Those people - knowing or not - zero right in on this and take advantage of what I have to give. I wouldn't say it's malicious; it's probably just a case of the person likes me well enough but not enough. And eventually I learn that lesson. Eventually I see the signs and I wake up and I realize that iI've done myself a disservice.

Once in my life I've had a friend - a close friend - that called for a very real friendship disconnection. I guess you could say I took the chicken shit way out and didn't return her email (although let it be said that this email came to me six months after my last unreturned phone call, email or text message). It was very difficult not to write her back, but it was the right thing to do. As I thought about what I would say back to her, I realized that in this long overdue message she never once asked about me, deciding instead to tell me all about herself. She wasn't there for me when I needed her the most - and didn't let me be there for her when she needed me, too. The tone of the message and it's apparent selfishness made me realize just how one sided our friendship really was, and I was finally able to put that part of my life to rest. I have no hard feelings, hold no ill will - the friendship is just over.

And then there are those friends that you've known forever, that you can't help but feel that something is off. Something doesn't seem the same - maybe a snide comment here or a rude remark there. Nothing specific that it's obviously about you, but the implication is there but you can't really call them out on it because you know there will be a "oh, honey, no I meant so-and-so, of course," and it will be utterly believable although you won't ever be 100% convinced. Those friends who may not approve of your current life choices, or who may be struggling internally and are letting it spill out into their relationships. I understand the feeling, but I don't understand the inability to put it aside. I don't understand why you would continue on with the act of being a friend if it is truly just an act. I don't want anyone to pretend to love me; I want to be loved. I don't want my friends to agree with my every move, but I do want them to give me the same support I give them. Even if it's quiet or if they don't understand why - I'd rather your friendship be true and honest and real than anything else ever.

picture post: january eighth through fourteenth

I just realized that I left out a picture from last week's picture recap. Oops. So I guess this will really be January 7-14, but whatever.

This week it was incredibly warm - 75, sunny, gorgeous. Then it turned incredibly cold overnight - 30, windy, frigid. Being born and raised in Florida, this weather pattern really isn't new; January is our coldest month, and we're getting along fairly well this year. Yesterday I ran out to get a pedicure, which meant I wore flip flops and MAN were my toes cold. But not so cold that it was unbearable, so there you have the lovely paradox of a Florida winter.

My sister-in-law turned 30 this week and her best friend and I spent the week trying to plan a surprise dinner for her, which is incredibly difficult when dealing with a pregnant control freak. I had to politely decline her dinner invite for earlier in the week, which was really hard to do with the emotional roller coaster I know she's been going through, and tried to keep cheerleading her friend on via texting when she was getting peppered with insane questions daily. It was tough, but dinner was a success and she was absolutely surprised.

And there was cake. What could be wrong with that?

Also this week, I went insane-o and trimmed my own bangs (and sometimes I regret it, and sometimes I don't). Hunter went to the doctor for a checkup and I discovered just how expensive medicine is and became extra grateful for that company HSA account, and I got some amazingly kick ass mail from my friend Steffy (that would be that really neat octopus ring you see down there - I LOVE IT).

 

picture post: january first through seventh

The first week of the year is mostly a non-event. This year I worked on the second - easy money, really, since not many other people worked. (Somehow I managed to stay awake my entire shift. I suppose that took enough effort.) Sophia was mischevious; Hunter had a rough start to the week at school, but by Thursday was back "in the swing of things," as he told me. I spent too much time at Target (which houses a Starbucks - spent too much time there, too), and, I read a lot on my Kindle since we were waiting on a part to fix our TV (which came in the mail today, but honestly - it's been nice not having the TV on so much).

 

what i take for granted

My sister-in-law is pregnant with her second child. She found out this week that he's a boy. She's also found out that he has a pretty serious heart defect, and surgery (up to a heart transplant) is in his future.

I've been blessed with the birth of two healthy children. Even Sophia - a full month early - was perfect; no problems except that she was smaller than I ever expected she'd be. We've had a few viruses, Hunter has been cursed with pretty severe eczema since he was an infant, allergies, whatever - nothing has even been thought of like "heart transplant."

I take my kids' health for granted. I'm not the type of person who goes to the doctor at the hint of a runny nose or takes cold medicine when she has a cough. When I was pregnant with Hunter, I tasked my husband with insisting I call a doctor when he thought I needed to, even if I didn't think it was needed. I wouldn't got so far as to say I shun traditional medicine, but I definitely don't feel the need to run to it at every turn (except for my handy bottle of Advil Liqui-Gels).

Finding out about the possible future of Baby Easton has given me pause. The more I read about this condition (Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome), the more I find myself backing away from the thought of what I would do in the same situation. My sister-in-law, bless her, has been so strong on the outside, and I'm so scared for her, thinking of what she must be going through on the inside.

What I would cling to is that as challenging as having a child with serious health issues would be, as heartbreaking and as gut wrenching as I know it will be, that baby will teach us all the real meaning of unconditional love, and patience, and endurance. Every child is a gift, and we're blessed with what they bring into our lives - the good and the bad.