I've been contemplating how to write this post. I'll begin one just to erase the whole damn thing and just go to another site and aimlessly read about other's lives since mine tends to feel a wee bit nauseating right now. Okay, yes, I'm being a little dramatic, something that I was accused of just yesterday. But really, is pointing out the obvious really an accusation or a no-brainer conclusion that you the good readers made the moment you started reading? If the poison pen letter from yesterday wasn't enough to push me over the edge (there I go again!) than today's edition would be it's final straw.
It would have been the final straw if I let it, but I won't.
I never met my Grandfather, my Mom's Dad and really never knew to much about him, except this one thing. He would always say, and it rings so true at this very moment:
"When they're talking about you they're giving some other poor fool a rest"
I am hoping that the other poor fool is enjoying their vacation as I become a martyr for their sanity. Oh, there are so many ways I could respond to the verbal assault that was just thrown upon me. But every which way I have come up with only makes me act as low and as poorly as the person involved and I prefer to be the bigger person here in the severed relationship. The beauty of free will is that we make the choice of what will ruin our days and what will eat away at our hearts. I was allowing this to win, allowing it to overcome my emotions and throw me into a self proclaimed pity party for myself but as I prepared for it, I looked around and the only one upset here was me.
I hate loosing.
The only way for me to win this ridiculous war of wills is to simply shut up and open my eyes and see the amazing people around me who don't think low of me as the person involved does but might actually think of me as a decent person. I have so many people in my life I feel honored to call my friend and I'm reminded each day be it through an instant message, a warm phone call or a enjoyable day together admiring our children. All around me are these amazing women who might even think I'm as amazing as I think they are. My life is filled with so many positives that I will not allow one negative to ruin it for me. All of you who are involved in my life, even those who I've never seen face to face but know you just by your voice, your sites, or heck, even just through your emails, are true gems to me.
Thank you for not ridiculing me.
Thank you for sticking by me
(And thank you for loving me even when I don't remember to put cards in the mail.)
You know folks, I write this site, I put myself out there each and every week. I do it knowing that people will disagree with what I say, and that is totally okay because it is nice to get different perspectives out there.
But let me tell you why I don't do this.
I don't do this to be judged.
I don't do this to have my relationship with Christ judged.
What do you think?
Do you all also feel I'm this bad seed spreading disbelief of God throughout the internet?
Have I caused you to reject Christianity and God?
Should I just shut down this site and start from scratch so I no longer have to deal with this type of situation anymore?
Honestly, I'm not quite sure how to begin a post like this so I'm just going to through it out there.
For those of you following the life of Caleb, I am saddened to report that he passed away last night at 11:05 p.m. Caleb was born 13 weeks early on October 10, 2005. Each day for him presented a new struggle that he courageously would overcome amazing his doctors and parents. He was improving and growing and learning the essentials that would ultimately allow him to leave the hospital and go home. However, yesterday he took a turn for the worse and his little body just couldn't fight off the infection.
Also, during all of this, Elizabeth learned a few weeks back that she was expecting her second child.
I never had met Elizabeth in person but grew to care about her and her family through my dearest friend Heather who also lost a son who to was born prematurely. When Elizabeth went into labor Heather called me and asked me to pray, it felt like September 2003 all over again. We had gone through this with Garrett but were hopeful that Caleb would make it. I am certain though that Elizabeth can use some words of encouragement, so I urge you to please go over to her siteand send her your condolences.
Maybe it's because my milk is drying up quicker than the Sahara and there isn't a thing I can do about even though I pop the Fenugreek pills 3 times a day.
Maybe it's because I feel like a horrible Mom for not breastfeeding like I should have from the beginning, regardless of the my illness, dammit I should have been Superwoman because then I wouldn't be in this situation.
Maybe it's because all the milk that I painstankingly pump keeps going sour because the damn refrigerator isn't cold enough.
Maybe it's because I have people living above me who sound like a herd of elephants each time they walk from room to room.
Whatever the main issue is, be certain that I'm in a pissy, sad, a little depressed mood. And when a girl gets into a pissy, sad and a little depressed mood she's goes on a blocking rampage and blocks IP addresses so certain people can't read her site.
I know, it's false advertising, you become friends with me. You think I'm nice, and quiet, and non-opinionated and then you stumble upon this site and go back and quickly read the fine print and realize that, WOW, this girl isn't that nice, she seems very loud and she stands on a soap box a little to often.
Maybe it's my fault. Maybe I shouldn't have invited people who know me in real life to read this site. Maybe if I could go back and do it all over again I'd just make a site and not tell a soul and the only people who would stumble onto it would be complete strangers who, when given their two cents, I wouldn't care that much because I didn't know you and didn't have to interface with you.
But, I can't go back, all I can do is block you until you catch on and reset your IP address.
I'm so annoyed that I can't even speak eloquently but thank God S.J. has already summed it up so wonderfully:
".....I find it best to bite one's tongue because do you really want to wonder if the doctor is acting snooty towards you because she's having a bad day or that she read your blog? I've had too many times in my life where I've wondered "Gee, um...yeah so did she read about that?"
I could change the web address and just start from scratch but I've met so many interesting people through this site and I do have wonderful friends in real life who can read this and not be shocked most likely because they really do know me well. So, for now I'm going to try this route and it's not to punish you but more to salvage friendships.
I am a Christian. I practice my faith and take it very seriously. Yes, I know that's not a "cool" thing to say. The "cool" thing to say is how I don't embrace religion but find solace in the tree's and wind. The "cool" thing to say is that I believe in nothing and have rejected all things spiritual. Heck, if you read all the recent "cool" sites out there, that's what they're all saying, just look! I won't give you the links because they are the cool kids on the block and they'd beat me up. I don't care what others think about my spiritual beliefs. I believe that there is a God and that He loves us. I worship my God in different aspects of my life.
However, I can also understand how many can be turned away from God based on their church experience, how many leave with the feeling that they've entered a country club rather than a house of God. Personally, I don't like the church or organized religion as many refer to it as. I go to church, I don't get involved because when I do I get absolutely disgusted and walk away shaking my head.
Just recently I spoke with the Bible study leader whose group I attended before Camille. I told her how I would like to start back up. She told me I couldn't return at this time. She actually told me I would have to wait until June because I had not signed their sacred covenant. She basically was saying that I was not going to be able to study God's word at this time because everyone else had signed this sacred piece of paper and because I hadn't, I could not start until June when they will sign a new piece of paper. This was her procedure.
Now, just to fuel my already out of control fire, I attended my Mom's church this past weekend, McLean Bible Church whose pastor is pretty well known in the community, Lon Solomon. I have always loved the teaching in this church. I've always gotten fed spiritually, of course that was 3 years ago before it grew to over 10,000 attendees (that of course a rough estimate, I'm sure there are more than that). But this weekend I felt like I was attending a Broadway play rather than a Easter service. To begin, they do not allow you inside the sanctuary until 10 minutes before the performance. They keep the doors shut as a huge crowd of spectators wait outside the doors. Once they do open the doors, it is a stampede to get the best seats because you want to get a close up of the performance. I went straight for a row closets to the door as I had brought Camille with me and wanted a easy getaway if she started to cry. As I was about to sit, I was informed by the usher that I was not allowed to sit in that particular row. That families with small children were only allowed to sit in one particular row. And that particular row? It was full. There was no more room for me. Someone did finally get up so I could sit, however, I would be unable to sit with my husband and family. When I questioned her on this her response was "This is our procedure" so I had to leave banished to the cafe downstairs.
No one should be turned away based on procedure, Jesus never had policies on who and how people should worship He simply said "Come".
He did not say "Come, only if you sign a piece of paper".
He did not say "Come, but you can only sit in one particular row".
Shame on you McLean Bible Church, shame on you Karen. I hope I'm the only person who's been turned away based on your procedures.
Do you see that time? This is the time my daughter has decided she wants to play. Well, actually she decided that at 4:35 a.m. but it has taken me a half hour to realize that this might be a long morning.
Would you care to know where my daughter is right now? In her crib, where any child under the age of 18 should be. In this house 5:00 a.m. is not considered wake up time.
Here's hoping that Camille is a quick learner because I'm not going to budge on this one. She is not hungry because she isn't giving me her hungry cry. She is not sick, I checked. She is just mad. Now, wait, if I'm going to be good mommy aren't I supposed to lay and scream with her? You know, if your child is throwing a fit you should throw it with them? Then again, I guess I'm not supposed to make her go back to sleep to if I was in that mind of thinking.
Oooh, wait, what's that I hear? Ahhhh...the sound of silence. Yes my friends, it took my child exactly a 3o minutes to realize that Mommy just isn't playing that game and she has drifted back to sleep. Hopefully now it's my turn.
The day I've been dreading has finally arrived: My milk supply has come to a screeching halt. We've gone from a steady stream to a slow trickle. Where we were getting 26 oz. a day, I feel lucky to get 21 oz. now. Of course the fact that I am not proving the lactation idiots wrong is a big annoyance also.
When I think about not pumping anymore, initially a wave of freedom washes over me. My body to return to normal? Wearing normal bra's? Not being attached to a pump 4-5 times a day? I become giddy, excited, I can't hardly wait.
But then, it actually hits me: My daughter would be exclusively on formula. Her growth would have nothing to do with me but rather Nestle Good Start. I guess emotionally I'm not ready for Nestle to get the credit. I feel very sad about the impending feeding future. I thought I'd be happier about this. But instead I feel like a mixed bag of emotions as I blindly reach for how I'm supposed to feel about all of this. It's bad enough that my baby is no longer a little newborn but rather a definite infant. Although she has not surpassed her cousin in the rolling section of her development, she is definitely acting like an almost 4 month old and then some already. I wish that I can will the supply back like I willed this pregnancy to sustain this time last year. I must have to just get used to this letting and moving part of parenting even if I don't like it.
I know many of you must be asking yourselves when I'm going to get off the "This time last year" kick. I apologize to the many of you but unfortunately you are reading during a very momentous time of my life. Okay, maybe not momentous, but very life altering.
Last year, I was sitting here, on this couch watching Shark Tales with D willing my body not to miscarriage. I had woke up the day before covered in blood, just like I had weeks before. Now I was on bedrest which my doctor wasn't even hopeful would help save this second pregnancy. For those of you just tuning in, on March 11, 2005 I miscarried. Just a few weeks later, April 7, 2005 I discovered I was pregnant again. Waking up bleeding when you are supposed to be pregnant is a very cruel thing.
All this weekend I've been just staring at Camille and am in awe of how quickly I could have lost that pregnancy. It was so close, it was so scary. And now I can't even remember what my life was like before her. Well, maybe I can remember, it wasn't as meaningful as it is now. Sure, I had a good life before Camille, but now I don't sleep in and have lazy days, which really used to frustrate me. I hate being lazy. Of course lazy days have taken on a new meaning. Lazy days entail taking care of Camille but not actually going anywhere. I remember before I was pregnant I was complaining to my sister how much I dreaded going to work Monday mornings. She said to me that once you're a mom, everyday is like a weekend. I thought she was crazy but she has been proved right. I know longer dread certain days. I know longer count how many hours I have left on a Sunday. Life is better. Life is more meaningful. Camille has taught me a new lesson in maturity.
God gave me the perfect gift wrap up in this little child and I'll always keep in mind how quickly it can disappear.
There's this commercial for Johnson and Johnson that says "A baby changes everything". I remember before I gave birth to Camille I'd see it and that statement alone would make me very nervous, almost as if it was a reminder just for me. In my typical the shoe will always drop attitude, I would think of this change that was coming as a negative change, one that would make me wonder what it was that I was thinking to off set the perfect balance in my life by having a child. I also remember reading other women's sites as they painfully described their frustration in becoming a Mom. I had prepared myself completely for the negative changes that were about to occur in my life.
I had meant to write about these feelings in the last post, as Camille had just turned 3 months, but strangely it took a different twist and before I knew it I was on another one of my typical soap boxes. I tend to stand on them a lot, but usually it stays within my inner monologue never able to escape.
But thinking about these last three months those fears and worries as I described above seem so foreign to me as I have realized that this journey so far has turned out to be absolutely amazing although just a little rocky when it started. In the beginning, I was completely overwhelmed, I felt a little trapped. This control freak quickly learned that there was no dictating a newborn, rather the newborn dictating me. I didn't immediately bond with my baby at first due to the sheer exhaustion I was experiencing after that whole ordeal. When people would ask how we were doing, I would lie through my teeth as I gushed about being a new mom, the way a new mom is expected to do. I wonder how people would have responded if I had told them truth, I wonder how far their jaws would have dropped at the response I wanted to give.
However, that slowly changed at the 4 week mark when all the help went back home and D went back to work and I was left here alone to begin my new role as Mom. It was then in those alone moments that I was able to freely navigate through these emotions and try out different ways to attach to my new daughter. It started with talking, having little conversations with her, and then I began singing and slowly the singing lead into dancing. Before I knew it, I knew how to calm my baby and I knew my baby.
My favorite moments, by far, have been first thing in the mornings, as Camille is waking up, I stand next to her crib and softly say her name. Without even looking my direction, a big smile crosses her face and she squeals. She knows her momma's voice and she knows our little routine. We cuddle, we talk and the moment my body touches the couch she begins her hungry cry, the one that begs for her bottle. There times, many times during the day that I sit in her room rocking her and can't help to think how completely blessed I really am. I can honestly say that this is the happiest and the most fulfilled I have ever been, even on my worst days when she refuses to nap and spits up all over my third outfit, still, I wouldn't trade it for anything
