Today was a BAD day...

4 years, for years since I posted anything... since I decompressed in blog form... well tonight I needed to type.  It was a bad day.

Today, right now, I am sitting in my dark living room because the idea of sleep is terrifyingly unreal to me. It cannot happen, It will not happen, and I can only change it by taking medication, which at this late hour will create a "mombie" in the morning, and I have responsibilities that need to be handled (what's funny, to only me, is that this morning in Sunday school we talked about being responsible).

This bad day began as Not a bad day.... but in a matter of hours, and through many colliding coincidence, there it was... the WALL of AWFUL.   My brain, my body, my choices, what I allowed others to project on me, my reactions... all of them bricks in the wall that so easily is built.

There are the usual things that are mortar to today's bricks. Chronic Pain, and Depression...

I have been working through depression, getting counseling and being defined as a highly functioning depressed person; (as my doctors says I'm such an optimist, it's a very different kind of depression).  To give clarity,  just under a year ago, I begun sliding down a small slope, to a dark place, that felt very familiar. It's one thing to be a depressed teenager and hide behind childish outbursts and youthful "angst" but now as a grown up, as a wife, and mother I had to keep it together.   As I am healing I find that there are more good days than bad, but the bad haven't disappeared.  I'm not sure if they ever will.  So I carry this brick with me, most days it's just a thing I carry and keep in check (prayerful that God will deliver me from this, to receive healing for).. but today is was as thick as a concrete cinder-block.

Chronic pain has been part of my life since I can remember. There were moments growing up that I didn't understand how people just did things - like move, like play, like live without having to stop, without have their bodies punish them, without over the counter meds... from Migraines, to joint issues, to lower back, hormone and organ issues... I know that there is a bigger picture, and although I and many others have prayed for healing, I sit and wait on the Lord for his plan, and His glory in my life.I am reminded daily that I am, sort of, a medical freak show.  I wish that I could have some kind of title.  When you say to someone oh it's lupus, or cancer or fibromyalgia people have a picture, they understand the concept.. not that I want those things, but to be able to have people grasp some idea of what I  deal with... ... to not have people go numb to my life.  Like today, today I felt as though my husband was numb to my pain.  I'm not asking him to feel it for me, I'd never wish that, but to be so insensitive to it... BRICKS.  First brick was the hurt, that he didn't care about my body. The second brick, and the one I'm more ashamed of, was jealousy.  HE can be numb to my pain - I want to be numb to my pain... I want to not feel it, for a day, an hour.

The bricks are heavy, so heavy. 

I was in a car accident 4 weeks ago, nothing major - just some whiplash.  JUST whiplash... meaning my body hurts to turn, to lift with my right arm, the numbness in my hand makes grip and any form of work, like mothering, and house keeping, and wife-ing, hard... To add to the other physical problems I tolerate daily.  My head feels like a bowling ball stuck on my stabbing or aching neck muscles - each so small and so strained that it's like burning threads under my skin...  'fine lines of agony' is my new pet name for this.  Today I moved too much, didn't rest enough, pretended I was fine too often... and now as I lay in my bed my very bones cry in pain.  the muscles so rebelling against the rest they needed earlier.  My joints ache as if I were old and feeble, and it was a damp day.   The physical is almost unbearable... these are more bricks to line the wall, to add height, constructed with the mortar.

Colliding coincidence like being invited to dinner, to arrive and the hosts having eaten not just supper, but also finish dessert before we arrive.  Having to serve myself and Lil Mister and then eat alone in someone else's kitchen... why did i go? Was this worth not being at my own place? I went because  I didn't want to feel alone....  Why did I sit quiet? Why did I then go, and make conversation, and pretend like I wasn't hurt? Why did I act like I wasn't lonely in a house full of people? To smile for my child, who asked why we were last and no one waited... to make excuses that came too easy.  Hide my emotions... because... because that is what I do.

So very heavy.

Husband is working extra hours, working really hard for us, to provide for us, to help those he loves, and with extra time help those who need his help.  It's honorable, but lonesome.  I crave my husband, I crave his touch, his heart, his soul.  Lately, in the fog, I feel far from him.  Not emotionally, but just far. My days are home are full of teaching (homeschool momma and glad to be one), trying to clean something, and trying to stay on track of my week with multiple MVA-treatment-plans added into my normal routine.  His days at home are spent catching up on house jobs and honey-do lists that he gave himself, or resting from the hard hard working, physically intense job he has.   So I put on my happy face, and smile as he goes off to save the world... I'll hold down the fort and one day when life slows down I'll get him back.

I think I'm more needy for this since the depression.

Is that something I can say to him - "Hey husband, I know you're doing this great stuff for me, for the family, for friends... but I'm dealing with the mental illness that you don't quite understand, or really have ever had experience with, and so I need you to stay and be near me, and I can't tell you why, cause there aren't any words for it... but you just need to get it... so yeah, do that. cause I'm sorta falling apart in small pieces all over the house and i don't' want to lose myself as I pretend to play house, and you never wanted a mask, but I'm wearing a mask so that you can have less stress and so that our goober can have a great home life.... so h!e!l!p!"  Ahem... So just say something like that?

While sitting on my couch, vegging out and eating frosting from the tub, Betty Crocker for those who need details, I felt completely void.  nothing. well not nothing. I felt the dense dark fog drift around me. The hurt and pain settling in for a long night. so nothingness.  I felt nothingness.

The wall of awful is something I can't really picture well, it's got brick layers piling up, but thick mortar to secure them where they lay, and yet it's full of holes. I know it's not a strong wall I know that hope and faith often topple this wall.  I know that they will ... but somehow laying in my bed tonight didn't feel hopeful, i didn't doubt - I just didn't think it was for now... I know it's not for now.  I know the fog will lift, and I know it's not tonight, and might not be tomorrow...

What do you call that ... faith and hope for not now.  the wall hurts me, the wall crushes me, the pain drives me to a point I didn't know i could get too, the ache is bone deep bring slammed into a wall... and I will endure because it won't last, it won't be my final chapter, but it is this chapter.  it is this moment, it is the current state i'm in. 

Right now.

Do I become a realist/pessimist in my fog, and instead of becoming suicidal (again) or socially isolating myself, a lump of flesh, I just become this. Is this what being an extreme optimist, with a faith stronger than she thought, looks like when shes wading through the fog, when she's crashed into a wall of awful?

...

I feel like I need a vacation, and I needed it 3 months ago.  I need a maid to clean my house because I can't seem to grasp my inner Martha Stewart, and without this key element I would get vacation only to return to a mess I would have rather stayed in, and stayed in denial about.  (Do you feel me? are you picking up what I'm putting down... if so, would you come by and do that with my laundry?)

A time without pressures of myself, without the failures ad a housewife, and the time to sleep, un-medicated.  oh maybe a chance to write again, it's been to long, to paint for joy, to eat chocolate for breakfast and lunch, and have cheesecake for dinner... well a girl can dream can't she.
...

It's now after midnight and my brain is more and more becoming less and less coherent... so I will end with the hope that one day the wall will fall, and until then take comfort in the fog and pain that I know so well... as sad and as awful as this is.

lonesome...

Ever just feel a little lost, a little left out, and a little alone...

How did I forget to post all SUMMER??

There is so much to write about - but I don't want to drone on and on...

This spring and summer I've been busy being a Mom.  Matthew is growing like crazy, and I'm amazed at ow smart he is - how alive he is.  there are days were I just sit and thank god for how incredible life is... and how through a  miracle, and i mean huge miracle God allowed me to carry him, deliver him, raise him... I just can't express of honoured I am. 

And then there are those days where I want to strangle I'm, in the loving-mother kind-of-way... if you don't have kids you think I'm cruel for saying that, and if you do you've already, subconsciously nodded in agreement.

Matty is growing and I love it - but he's reaching that stage I dislike the most... everyone has a stage tey dislike... the baby stage, with diapers and bottles and no sleep; the toddler years, with tantrums and messes; the early years, with the running and chasing... etc... etc...  you get to Teenagers wit Attitude and driver's licenses...   Well I'm not a fan of 1-3 years... I don't really know why, i just don't.  I mean I LOVE kids and I'll always be willing to 'hang out' with a toddler but it's just not my favorite stage. 

David is and was busy - it's the fall now so it's what we're used to... and as soon as his work-life slows 'the hockey' will pick up, and I'll be a hockey-widow..aha... ahem.   But I'm so thankful for David and how involved he is. He is trying so hard to do everything right - and he is.  He has come home early to help when I've been sick, and he's watched Matthew so I could go out and do some photo shoots.  He is just this amazing father, and husband.

Ahhh work - I've been just busy enough this fall, two weddings, and 6 family photo shoots and a few more to come.  It's Great!!!  I'm looking into getting registered - you know being all legit.  I'll have to find someone and figure out how to do that....

Phew... that was a lot... sigh...

wanting more...

I'm a new mom, an old soul, a wife, daughter, sister and friend...
I'm smart, and funny, silly at times...

I am capable of a lot, and I feel like I could do a lot... I use the words 'a lot' because they are so ambiguous.

I used to paint, and write poetry... it's been almost a year since my hand has held a pen or paint bush...

I realize that I want to de clutter to clean out and tidy up my home... to prepare myself for the next one, look forward to the next Home we make.

I feel a little trapped, a little less useful, a little more in pain, and a little forgotten... and it didn't bother me until today.

I often sit and think of the places I'd like to go, pictures I'd like to take, people I'd like to meet, and food I'd love to taste....

My body is restless ... ... ... to move, to create, to carry, to rest...

I have no projects, no plans, to busy myself I've written and rewritten six different budget plans for our house, and I know, like the last six, these won't be followed... they won't even be heard...

I long for a day when we sit and talk, dream big and move forward... I'm not in a state of discontent, I'm in a stated of stagnation...

April 4th, and I'm alive...

Today is a day if VICTORY!

In the last three (because it's just the morning of the 4th) I have made a birthday cake for my Father's surprise 55th birthday party, decorated said cake (it was funny, one foot in the grave and what not) and then served it while Emceeing the party for 55 of his best-est friends and family.

It was a lovely time and I did not indulge in the dessert - not even to lick the ice cream scoop clean after :D It was Easier than I thought... once I decided to just not have anything surgary -i didnt. well once I licked my fingers while icing the cake, but it was a mindless moment of weakness. so mindless someone else had to remind me that I was doing it.

Yesterday on my way home from the valley, we stopped at Subway for a quick bit before an event at church... while there David and I decided ( or rather I convinced David) to share a combo, so we go cookies and Pop... it wasn't until after ordering, paying and on our way out of the door, that we realized I couldn't have any of the extras...

it was kinda mind boggling how easy sugar just gets in my diet... oh dear - I didn't enjoy the cookies... or drink the pop... hopefully this week I won't buy things to eat I can't eat.

Friday is a Scary Day...

The end of this week is the end of Sugar for me... well added, processed sugar... I think it'll kill me. I'm hoping it will break my spirit, my addiction... i'm nervous - I love to eat sugar, and I love to bake with sugar, and I love to eat sugar... ahem.

I have been neglecting the spiritual Discipline of Fasting... and I want so very much to be doing that, in fact I feel that the Lord is convicting me to strengthen my spiritual 'body'. But in order for me to be able to do that, i need to work on my physical body. My family doctor would like me to cut the sugars, before I do something 'drastic' like fast. She would also like me to cut the sugar, because I have a great chance of inheriting, developing diabetes.

The rules I've given myself some rules to follow, and David and friends will help me stick to them.

1) No candies, or chocolates, or sweets, or baked goods, or ice cream.
2) No extra sugar, which means nothing in my tea or on my cereal; and no syrup on my pancakes and waffles.
3) No processed sugary things - Tim Horton's Cappuccinos for example

I can do it! April is a short month (if I had been wise I would have chosen February)

Wow 6months.... time flies when your elbow deep in dirty diapers...

Well not really elbow deep, in fact not really deep in diapers at all. I'm a believer of throwing them out... just sayin'.

Matthew has turned 6months old.

He is such a blessing, and a reminder of how good God is. It's been six months and I still find myself staring at him in disbelief. I have a baby, I had a baby, I birthed a baby, I carried this baby to full term.. Matthew was born early, and needed almost no medical intervention... he breathed, breastfed, grew and was home in the shortest time some nurses had seen... Matthews complete existence is a miracle.

I spend minutes each day crying, tears of joy... I and grateful and sing songs of thanksgiving to God (cheesy I know) but I just can't get over the miracle and blessing I have received.

God is Good!

My baby is growing up. He's frickin' huge too. I mean for a preemie he's ginormous, but even for 'normal' babies he a big boy. I am blown away at how Matthew is developing, and learning. I can't believe the things he is doing... and trying to do.

I might be biased but I think he's a little bit of a genius :D

He's awake now, so I should be a good mom and go get him...

Mothering Alarm

I didn't sleep last night... My babe is sick with a double ear infection...

I realized in the early morning that I've arrived. I hit one of the tests of a new mother... and I'm not sure I passed.

Last night we gave Matty some tylenol, Anitbiotics and his bottle, he fell asleep while burping and we put him to bed... it was a very easy process... and yet I stayed up all night - not on purpose mind you. I was worried, I was making sure he was ok, I must have checked him for a fever 100 times last night. I knew he was ok, but I couldn't ignore the What Ifs.

I guess that's what mom's do. We have a little alarm inside that goes nuts at the what ifs about life and our children. I love it and I hate it.

He slept well and I did not. Hopefully he'll nap so I can nap :D

A Lot to Think About...

I've been stuck inside... for about a week. Both Matthew and I have been battling a fierce cold. I've had it for almost a month and a half, he's just sorta playing with it. I think that I'm better , and a day latter I'm back to square one. This time around it's settled in my chest. Yuck Much.

We've been trapped at home for a week. Well, that's not entirely true, I was out for church, and then this one trip to the city... but it nearly killed me... so I've made up for the outings by making homemade chicken soup, and staying in my jammies for days. Physically I've had to slow down, because everything stopped.

Mentally I'm at my end. I feel out of control, not in a 'crazy' and aggressive way, but in a Passive, and all control is taken from me sort of way. I'm not a control freak, don't get me wrong. I, in fact, prefer to not be in control of most things; even though I'm a Type A personality. But I do want some control in my life. I don't want to be a spectator. I enjoy being apart of something, to be an active member of life, community, church, marriage, parenthood... womanhood even.

I don't have a realm of 'my space'. What in my life is mine? Where are my responsibilities, and what is my role?

Spiritually, Wow, is God working on me... It's like he's working on the sick side of my soul. I've been hiding from my own fears for the last couple of months. My life has been so about being Matthew's mother, and living in that blessing that I pushed aside all the things that God has been teaching me.

I guess we forget that God can Bless you, and want you to walk in that blessing, but not forget, or disregard the fact that He's working on you.

My forgetting was about self. About His view of Me. I forget that I'm loved. I forget I'm a loveable.

Self Esteem is linked to Spirituality, whether we want it to be or not. If you don't believe you exist for a reason, that something 'great' created you, then you become 'just like everyone else' you are just a 'mistake that grew from slime' you simply exist, and one day you won't... sad. You would judge yourself by humanity's standard... which is constantly changing, which is rooted in selfishness, and destruction, and you change based on what Others want you to be.

See here's the tougher stuff.... you say to me... "Shannon, what about being Me for Me?"... Well If I did not have faith in a God who created me, then currently I wouldn't' want to be me for me. We forget that we are flawed, we are corrupt and toss like the waves. I'm not steady enough to be the standard of myself.

We are not Good, I have yet to meet the prefect human. As much as society is wrong, and selfish, Society is just a bunch of people. we are individuals, but not independent. If we change ourselves, for simple ourselves, we are pressured by our culture, our time, our environment... so we can't be independently independent.

Because I believe in a 'greater', in something beyond myself, I believe that 'the greater' (Who we will call God) ( and who wants a personal relationship with each of us, as I believe...) has created me. Not by mistake, and not by accident, and not 'just because he had nothing to do on the sixth day'. That alone is a huge deal in regards to my self worth, and self esteem. God made me, He knew me in my mothers womb, he Created me in His image. But more than just being part of his creation He has good planned for me, I am his favored, and the Apple of his eye. He is the standard by which I can compare my life, my mind, body and soul...

And yet I don't feel it or see it right now. I believe it, but don't think about it.. It's like I'm covered in a fog. When I'm standing in front of a mirror, Feeling lost, laying in bed at midnight; Worn out and tired, holding Matty; or crying in the shower I just can't seem to remember it...

I often ignore / forget that God gave me David, and that when I feel unloved, David's love and perspective of 'me' is something... It counts for something. It's worth something because my husband loves me, with a God like Love, and Loves me with a humanistic love - that when he says I'm beautiful, I should actually listen.. not just smile and toss aside. That I should hear it.

I guess I don't hear the words, and I can ignore the actions... I can dismiss the feeling...

I'm still working on Me...

the long hard road...

I wish I could communicate... with my friends, with my husband, with my own brain.

I've been feeling so run down, and stressed, and alone... I'm just so tired (emotionally, and physically).

Matthew is such a blessing, and such an adjustment. I want to spend all day just laying and playing with him. Watching him sleep and watching him learn to laugh. I could listen to him giggle forever, I'm sure.

But there is life going, husbands to love better, people to reconnect with, houses to clean, weight to lose, de-cluttering to be done... and a list of things I wanted to accomplish before I'm 30...

I'm not sure I can get it all in, in this short life I have.

My body is putting such a strain on my life. I usually can just ignore it, move through it, and get past it. But it seems to be stopping me in my tracks. I could clean my house better if it didn't hurt every time I bent over... I could go play with my baby, take a nice relaxing walk out side if it didn't mean being 'paralyzed' with pain in the knees.

The Pain is starting to seep into my brain, into my heart. It's what I think about more and more each day, I can't help it - it hurts... and it puts me on edge. It’s had to play nice when all I want to do is scream from the frustrating ache.

I can't sleep well because that's when the swelling starts and the anguish gets into the bone... when the muscles relax, the bones cry out in pain.

I don't want to be a wife whose to consumed with herself she forgets her spouse, and I don't want to be a mom who can't do anything with her child for fear of the throbbing in the morning...

My Boy

I forgot to post this here - I had it on FaceBook but not here...

The Birth of My Miracle!
on Tuesday, September 21, 2010 at 11:26pm

Today is a day where I can sit, and write - It’s not going to happen a lot, and I haven't’ had the mental capacity to to and think , let alone write. Here is the Story of Matthews Birth - I warn you it might be a little TMI....But you’ll have to get over it... or don’t read it.... I was out in a hurricane, sorry, rainstorm, and then played cards with Robin, John, Crystal, and David... it was lovely..Later in the evening around eight o’clock, my tummy hurt a little. I thought I pulled muscle... so we checked it out at the hospital... what if it was a hernia.. I had a well, not a fear, maybe a worry... of hernias with this pregnancy... so off we went. off to the Colchester Regional Hospital.. oh dear...

I was a little sore, but nothing really painful. We went to the ER, they sent us upstairs and the nurse told us it was likely an irritable Uterus. What is that?? I mean who tells someone over and over that my uterus is ‘just’ Irritable. Well after a steady timing and constant pain she laid her hand on my tummy and was startled that the whole uterus was contracting - yes contractions... so she Called Dr. Clague... he came in and checked... my pain was at a 2 out of 10... and he asked us a question about somethign that can, later in pregnancy, trigger labour... We said yes, and that meant Dr Clague had to do an internal exam... Dr Clague’s next words were... “O CRAP you’re seven and half centimeters dilated - you’re having this baby tonight. Call the Trauma team... OK my dear, you have to hold on and not have this baby.... “

Oh Crap is not a word you ever want to hear a Doctor say - especially about your baby, the baby you’re not supposed to be having...
Right! We were a little shocked. No we were a LOT shocked. It was a lot to take in and process.. I remember looking at Davids face thinking - he’s really really worried, I’ve never seen him that worried - it started to worry me... and yet I wasn’t worried..

It was a God moment - I was not concerned, I was not anxious - I was not worried... I knew God had a plan, that Matthew would be OK - that I would be OK - that there was a bigger meaning for all of this.

So here I am, being moved to the labour room, without my mom, with out my suitcase (which would be packed next week, in case we ‘went’ early...) I was dressed in my PJ's, and I was just going to get a few safe-to-take painkillers, for that pulled muscle I had a few hours earlier... that didn’t work out as planned. Once in the labour room, I was commanded by Dr Clague, to simply lay there at not have this baby.

Truro was not equipped for a preemie - let alone a 8 week early preemie... and the one and only Pediatrician was away on vacation (it being labour day weekend and all). So I’m hearing this and not freaking out - the nice nurse Brita (from Ireland) reassures me that they have called a Dr who did a specialty in Peds, or neonatal stuff ( I can’t remember exactly)... I asked the name. It was Dr. Locke... Oh I love Diana... She’s a lovely lady who was my back up Dr, and friend from church.... I knew then that God was so completely over all of this.. that he had orchestrated this - for some reason, for some amazing plan... a destiny for my baby. I didn’t worry.

I was to lay still, as moving speeds contractions. I was there on the bed watching David pace as he called the parents (soon to be grandparents), Shauna, and Natasha and Lynn, for prayer - and support... Natasha and Lynn showed up and THANK the LORD, because I wasn’t really sure David and I were really ready... you see Prenatal class was 3 weeks later... aha.
David was amazing, he wasn’t sure what we were doing... but he was a great support. Natasha, had been through this before - and she and I shared a labour room before ( i was there for Alea’s birth) - was a great guide through the process. She helped me with the ‘what is to come’ stuff. and David kept me cool and collected.

But back to the birth. So I’m calmly talking and chatting, waiting for the Life Flight to show up... checking the monitor to make sure that I’m actually having Contractions - O didn’t I mention that part... that I was in almost no pain. it was like stubbing my toe - I know that sounds like I'm exaggerating, but really ask David, Natasha, Diana, Dr. Locke... It was great!

Three hours-ish later.. I’ve been sitting at about 9.5/10 cm dilated. and NOT having a baby... let me tell you how focused I was. I was thinking Closed... thinking relax, and yet stressed (so as not to relax through my contractions and into transition... ) ahh 3 hours-ish later the Flight team arrives! AMEN.

It was kinda funny. The ladies asked how long I had been on drugs, or when I got my Epidural... and when we said I wasn’t on anything.. they were shocked one exclaimed “Oh Crackers!”. it was another fun moment.

Now Dr Clague tells me OK lets have this baby. WHAT?!?! Just do it... you know most women get the whole dilation time to prepare for actually pushing a baby out. They get a full 10 months to get ready for the process... I got 3 hrs of not doing labour and then told to Flip the Switch and have a baby... this was the worst part of baby-poppy-outness...

Through out the whole evening there was so much Praying, Glory Given to God, Jesus Name declaring, Spirit filled JOY that I think I was carried through the ‘un-delivery’ and the delivery. I can’t explain how evident the Lord was in the room. Matthew was so protected. I know that this will sound so wonky to anyone who hasn’t experienced the personal side of God... but MAN it was Amazing!!!

I was warned that there could be complications. Matthew was supposed to be born not breathing, with non-functioning lungs. I was to push, but not too hard cause the Vaginal canal can sorta crush a 31 week old baby’s head... and all of this right before I was to Focus on having a baby. sigh.. not the most relaxed I felt, but I was confident that we could do this. See Matthew wasn’t supposed to be born... he wasn’t supposed to be carried to full term, he wasn’t supposed to be.. but God let it Be... and it was.

We break my water (miraculously it didn’t break before this moment), and by we, I mean Dr Clague. It was great. Dr Clague said, “it’s 1am and I’d like to be home in 20min” We all laughed and then it happened.
Un-medicated, natural, God filled Labour.

And then there was Matthew. He came out screaming! not blue, and not in distress... Dr Clague did some great steps to make sure Matthew was protected. It was a little ‘uncomfortable’ for me, but I’ll heal. the important thing is that he came out amazing, absolutely amazing...
The Life Fight team took him, after David cut the cord (I’m so glad that he could do that!) and took Matthew to stabilize him and what not. It was kinda weird - I knew he’d be OK - I saw him leave me... and then I was just there in the room waiting and waiting to get to see him again. Diana brought him to me, after David got to hold him. It was so amazing. Looking at Matthew... sigh I have no words.

Matthew was taken to the nursery and stabilized. He didn’t require a respirator, or any medication - at least I don’t remember him having any. It was still an emergency a lot could have gone wrong - but it didn’t. Matthew was taken by ambulance to Halifax, David and my mom (who finally got there, with Berinda, in time to see Matthew in the nursery) went to Halifax in the car after.... Berinda stayed with me and then we slept.

My baby was taken care of, before he was born, while I carried him, during birth, while at the hospital and I’m sure God will continue to care for him. 

I can't believe I forgot about my Blog...and my list...

To re start the writting of the blog...

Updated - 30 before 30

1-Graduate from University (DONE)
2-Find a Job (DONE)
3-Paint a 'hangable' picture (DONE) My Mother has it
4-Get Married (DONE)
5-Get Driver's Lic. (DONE)
6-Buy a house (DONE)
7-Pay off House
8-Have Kids (DONE) HOO WOO.. Thank you Lord!!!
9-Pay off Student Loans
10-Read 'War and Peace'
11-Attend a ballet or opera
12-Knit a Blanket
13-Watch a Cirque performance (DONE)
14-Get up and go on a Spontanious Road trip
15-Learn to Sew
16-Write a Collection of Poems (In process)
17-Have a Proper dinner party - fancy napkins and all
18-Travel over seas
19-Plant a garden (herb or veggie) (DONE) I'm not good at it, but it's there
20-Hit my ideal weight, and stay there for a while
21-Take a personal vaction and Paint everyday, all day
22-Do Photography as more than a hobbie (DONE)
23-Spend a week on my Grandfather's farm, finding out my roots
24-Buy a new (to me) car (DONE)
25-Collect and organize a Photo Archive of my Family (DONE)
26-Spend an Entire Day at a Spa
27-Buy something from a TV infomercial. (DONE)
28-Sell, donate, or get rid of all the stuff I have separated into piles to "sell," "donate," or "get rid of." (DONE) But there is more coming in them going out...
29-Go yardsale-ing and buy something incredibly hideous and display it in our Spare room Proudly! (DONE) It's my Hummel Art work
30-Be a better Daughter, Sister, Wife, mother(hopefully),in-law, friend, Co-Worker. (Will this ever get completed? I think I need a new number 30)

Today is the Day, that the Lord has made...

I learned that song many years ago... in fact it was the first song I learned to play by ear (or in my case figure out and try not to massacre by ear). It's a great song, and it has a lot of great words, etc.. but you know, I really don't think I got it till this week... on a cloudy day, when it had been raining for days. One of 'those' days. I sat and complained about everything -it made me grumpy, I hated life... I felt gross, fat, and bored... But it hit me (God does that, jolts me with His reality...) That I'm alive, I was breathing, I was here, and that was AMAZING. I didn't die in my sleep, I woke up... That alone is worth being Thankful for...

So this is the Day that the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it....

The Hierarchy of Motherhood

There seems to be this hesitation by some to say Happy Mother’s Day… I think I heard more Happy-Almost-Mother’s Day wishes, than plain ol’ Mother’s Day wishes. This got me thinking… let’s say that the majority of this post is based on a Pro Life stance, since that’s the stance I have. And I would like to point out that the majority of well-wishers were also Pro Lifers.

I’ve noticed that there seems to be four levels of Motherhood: Carriers, Birthers, Raisers, and Birth & Raisers.

The First, Carrier, is simple, when you conceive as a woman, you are a mother, the biology of ‘you’ begins doing what it needs to do. There is this Automatic pilot that kicks in and provides for the growing baby. According to Dictionary.com one of the definitions of Mother is a female parent, and one of the definitions of Parent is any organism that generates, or produces another, as well as a protector/guardian… in this case offspring. Simply by being the place the baby grows, and by biologically protecting and providing for the baby I consider a woman who is carrying a child, a mother… Simple logic.

Now here is where we get a little fuzzy. I carried a child, for a few weeks. I was a mother for a short period of time… but my question is, if a mother of a 12 year old child died, does she cease being a mother… I don’t think the world considers her childless… she’s not barren, she’s not and Un Mother… She’s a mother who lost a child. But, getting back to me (cause it’s my blog) I carried and lost a child, before it’s birth (again going with a pro-life, pre-born stance) am I not a mother who lost a child? Or am I simply childless? I become a ‘Forgotten Mother’ (I think I’ve written on this before)… So I considered myself a Mother. But the ‘world’ does not. So we have a discrepancy.

Birthers, if we go with the worlds outlook… then having a child in you doesn’t count… until you birth it… but what if you birth it, and put it up for adoption? Or the child dies? A Mother through and through. You are the biological parent, you are a mother forever. A child who dies, after birth makes a ‘birther’ more of a mother than a ‘carrier’, because their child was ‘more alive’…. They have a legitimate child… this is the toughest part for me to wrap my head around. I don’t know why there is this difference… I do understand that there is a bond, and a level of emotional attachment… but distinguishing between who is considered a mother based on how many breaths a child takes, leans to far away from my pro-life views…. So why do my pro-life friends and family treat me, someone who had a ectopic pregnancy (or miscarriage) different from someone who experienced a stillbirth?

And now, I’m carrying again, and it’s a BEUATIFUL thing… and yet I’m not really a ‘mom’… but I feel like a mom… but I felt like a mom last time… my baby isn’t yet born, I wonder if I’ll feel MORE like a mom then? I just don’t know…

Moving on to Raisers… A mother who carries a child is not really a Mother. And someone who adopts or fosters a child is a Mother… does Birth have anything to do motherhood? I am a huge believer in Adoption, I think that motherhood whether biological or adoptive is the hardest job in the world, and only the bravest women even step up to the plate. This is the next level of Motherhood – No one questions your motherhood if you are raising someone else’s biological child. No one tells you Happy-Almost-Mother’s day… so it’s not Carrying or Birthing that is the deciding factor in how people (pro-lifers or other) greet you and celebrate Mother’s Day. … … … This adds to my confusion around who is considered a mother…

And of course the Birther & Raiser combo… These are the women who can carry, did carry, to full term, and then birthed successfully, and continued on to raise the child. These women are viewed as the cream of the crop… they are the “real” moms. NO ONE would say to them, you are only sort of a mother. Kind of a parent… These women are the quintessential Mother.

But the difference in carrying a child, to birthing a child, to raising a child and to both birthing and raising a child…. I feel, that there isn’t a difference… that all these women are Mothers. So saying to anyone who has carried, birthed, given up for adoption, adopted, have a Happy-Almost-Mother’s Day… is a little insulting.. a little insensitive. At least to someone who’s only been through 2 of the 4 possible ‘mothering’ stages…

I’d like to say Happy Mother’s day to ANY woman, who has carried a child, birthed a child, and raised a child; because in my little world, you are a mother.

And that’s my Mother’s Day Rant…

life within life

SO our Pregnancy is getting along well. I'm at fourteen weeks, and I saw the baby at a 10 week Ultra sound - so lovely to see his (or her) heart beat and little body just floatin'. it was great... and we heard the Heart beat at Week 13. It was great.

I have monthly doctor appointment as per usual, and I just make sure I don't do things that are bad - like lift furniture... so that's easy with DAVID and MARK (my big brother is living with us for a little while) yelling at me everytime I want to move the couch.

Right now things aren't GREAT - they are FINE but we had a little scare, involving mucus - no there will not be details... in fact that might be a little TMI... but it's good I just have to take it easy. That means cutting a lot of things out - like no more Sunday School, no more babysitting, no extras, no gym, no aqua-sizing, no lifting... at least for couple of weeks... maybe a month... maybe for good - I don't know -- I'm waiting to hear from the Doctor...

It's really hard to cut things out of my life - I'm the person that people go to when stuff needs to get done... and now I have to bail out of things... I feel like some people will think I'm a little bit of a slacker... sigh... but it's all good - cause it means BABY!! and I won't risk my little miracle, well actually BIG miracle... But I feel useless and that I'm letting people down.. I HATE that feeling.. Natasha told my that my identity is not wrapped up in what I do for the church, for others... if I can't do then I'm still Ok... which was what I needed to hear - but it was tough to take in.

and at least I'm not on bed rest - I think I'd go crazy.