Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts

Friday, March 13, 2015

Well I never!

There are many things I have said I'd never do...

Some socially, some emotionally, some physically...

I've said that I would never have children if I was single...HA!!

I've said that I would never seek treatment to have a child...double HA!!!

I have said that...gulp...gasp...I would never go a week...NEVERMIND a month without posting on my blog! I'm in the 3rd month! WTF! How in the world did that happen? I swear in my head I wrote dozens of posts! But I guess I NEVER put them on paper! I really do need to get them out of my head...soon...I hope!

And of course let's not forget the "nevers" we said about parenting...

Never feed her french fries...hmmm she might have had one or two...

Never let her sleep in my bed...okay a cuddle night every now and then NEVER hurt anyone...

Never let her play video games...but it's only educational games...

I would NEVER put my child in front of the tv before she was 2!

Yeah well...Ladybug is watching her A,B,C video as I type this...

Lots and lots of nevers...but really where's the harm right...

Well there is one never that I recently did that I need to make sure that it really is a NEVER!

That I NEVER do it again!

Life before Ladybug, I can hardly recall but what I do recall is the pain of not knowing if I would EVER be a mom.

And the pain of how one by one everyone around me had their dreams come true and I just kept moving further and further away from mine.

As the photos of pregnant bellies and babies flooded every possible visual outlet I became increasingly defiant swearing that I would NEVER be so callous, so crude, so insensitive as to throw my victory into the face of those still struggling. That I wouldn't run around showing pictures and telling stories of "what my kid did today". Never would I make anyone else feel the pain I felt when I had to look at a baby picture and think....it's never going to be me...

Well...it really isn't that way...I know that now, the victors weren't doing that at all...but in reality, it doesn't matter. In my pain I would have never saw it for what it really is...

What it really is...is such an unbelievable, overwhelming feeling of gratitude, love and disbelief. It is a dream-like state where you feel if you don't show the world that the world might take it away...or even worse that it really didn't happen.

You run around with the Cheshire cat grin that no one can wipe off your face and you have to show everyone why!

I have over 1,500 photos and videos on my phone now that EVERYONE must see. Everyone MUST see how beautiful, funny, sweet, incredible my daughter is...she's there...she's real...and I NEVER thought I could ever be so incredible happy...I NEVER thought life held such exquisite contentment!

I NEVER thought it was going to be as amazing as it is and now I just want everyone to feel this sweet release of pain and fear...

There is a woman in my class. We have actually sat in class together for a few semesters and this semester we started talking.

She's one of us...an Infertile...oh the pain! Her and her husband tried for years to have a baby and couldn't. Her husband doesn't want to pursue donor eggs or embryos or even adoption.  He feels that if it was meant to happen, it will happen. She says they have decided to let it be what it's going to be and travel.

It blows my mind! I would NEVER let a man keep me from my dream of being a mother! (and obviously I didn't).

But I am coming from my realities. I don't have the best marriage role models in my family (or with friends for that matter). Most end in divorce and all I keep thinking is "Yeah in 5 years when you are divorced then what!!"

But what if her marriage is built to last...do you throw that away? I don't know...I've never had that...

Either way it's her decision and I'm pretty sure...no wait...I am sure...I actually know...it's a painful decision...

Every day she is in pain...it might have resolved itself to a quiet pain but it's a pain that never leaves nonetheless.

And here I am in class showing her pictures and videos of Ladybug...

I never want to be the constant reminder to her...

I never want to be the reason her quiet pain becomes loud again.

So for now I have to make sure that I never do that again. I keep my phone in its case and NEVER be her reminder.

And I'll keep praying that her husband is right (hmmm...this is where you throw in the line that men are NEVER right! Ha! Joking...kinda!) and that if it's meant to happen it will...

Because hey...I'm living proof that you NEVER know!





Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Just another ordinary day...sort of...Part II

Mother's Day 2011

It should have been "just" another ordinary day...just another Mother's Day.

At the time Mother's Day was a day where I honored my mother by going to brunch and drinking mimosas!

My mom and I have always been close, so all I ever took Mother's Day for was..."just an another day"..."another day" to be with my mom.

My sisters both had children young so I can't even remember a big "ta do"  for their first Mother's Day. There absolutely could have been a big "ta do" but I was finishing high school and heading off to college...being a mother...celebrating Mother's Day...in my book NOT a big "ta do"...just another ordinary day!  So I wouldn't have even noticed...

I always pictured one day I would be the mom at Mother's Day brunch.  But having a longing for it...nay...I took it for granted. I guess I just always assumed that someday it would be me.

 My first miscarriage was so devastating that I spent that whole year determined to get pregnant again. I don't even recall that Mother's Day after my first miscarriage. I miscarried in March and it was now May. I was down but not out.  I still had hope...hope that someday I would be the mom at Mother's Day.  So it was just another day...don't get me wrong, I still mourned the loss of my baby and Mother's Day was a deafening reminder but I was sure the following year I would be celebrating Mother's Day as a mom... It still didn't sink in.

I never realized how much I wanted it or that there was an actual possibility...I mean a REAL possibility...that it might not ever happen for me until that following year...until Mother's Day 2011.

It was one year after my first miscarriage. If I didn't miscarry...this would have been my first Mother's Day. And a few months earlier I failed on my last IVF cycle with my own eggs.

It was hitting home and as I sat at my sister's house having brunch and drinking mimosas, it became painfully clear that this might not happen for me.

I had decided to put my adoption plans on hold and pursue donor eggs.

I remember sitting with my mom looking a photos of egg donors, noting how this one had my eye color or that one had my hair...another deafening reminder.

That Mother's Day 2011 was embarrassing and comical to say the least but what no one knew was that I spent my whole drive home crying...suffering in a pain of realization.

There was nothing ordinary anymore...nothing familiar was left.

But I followed through.

I pursued and 4 months later...I was pregnant...I was going to be a mom on Mother's Day!

Mother's Day was no longer going to be this deafening reminder...no longer this pain of realization...it was going to be "just another ordinary day"...just as it should be...

It was going to be my day...or so I thought...by the time Mother's Day rolled around again. I had suffered two miscarriages and have gone through well over 10 cycles.

It wasn't just another ordinary day anymore...it was my own private hell...one where there wasn't enough mimosas...

I think it was then that I stopped picturing myself as a mom on Mother's Day...well, I guess it wasn't that I stopped picturing it...it was that I couldn't picture it...it all faded away...

Mother's Day 20whatever...Whatever the year..I was determined to make it just another ordinary day!

I tried not to think of my lost babies. I tried not to acknowledge the deafening reminders...the pain of realization...

Mother's Day 2014

I celebrated my first Mother's Day as a mom.

Is it the way I "assumed" it would be?  The way I pictured it?

Is it just another ordinary day?

No...

Nothing is the way I pictured it...

Nothing is the way this ordinary day should be...

It is extraordinary!

I think that is what makes it so special and so unbelievably magical...

And that will forever make it anything but "just another ordinary day"...



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Thursday, June 7, 2012

Fading Away

When I was in High School one of my friends, one of the neighborhood kids, you know the ones that are in your group, not your "click" but your group. They live right up the street and you go through Kindergarten all the way to High School with them and you do everything with them, right down to cutting school and getting caught. One of those friends. When I was in High School one of my friends died in a car crash the night of graduation.

I used to think I would never forget.

And there are some things that I haven't.

The phone call from my best friend in High School telling me he had died. I can still hear the sorrow in her voice on the other end of the telephone.

The funeral, the ride in the back of the limo with his father on the way to the cemetery. The line of cars that went for miles behind us with their headlights on all for him.

But there are some things I just can't seem to remember.

And I am not saying that I have forgotten my friend. Obviously not but the details are fading.

I can't remember his voice but I do remember some of the things he said. But the sound of his voice has faded.

I know he was goofy and even typing that makes me smile. But I can't remember any of the silly things he used to do.

And his face. I know he had a sweet face and I see a flash of what could be his face but his features have faded.

I know I could go back into old photos and yearbooks to see him. But as soon as the photos go back into the box or the yearbook closes, it's just not there anymore. Not like it used to be. Not as vivid as it used to be. It's a like a trace or a ghost.

It's like an artist removing a character from a sketch. Little by little they start to disappear as they are being erased from the illustration one part at a time from the bottom up until there is nothing left but the trace of an image that was once there. A faint outline of what could have been. A character that's faded away...once was there but then removed.

It's like my sailor. Yes, I can go back and look at the photos of us together but the features of his face are fading, fading away from my memory and as hard as I try to remember the only time I can truly see his face clearly is in my dreams and even those are now fading and very infrequent. But never while I am awake can I see his face clearly. It's a flash. It's a sense but not the complete picture. It's almost not tangible anymore.

And I used to be able to picture myself pregnant and being mother so clearly.

When I was with my sailor I would have these vivid visions of him wrapping his arms around me from behind and bear hugging me and our baby through my big, beautiful belly. I could see it. Clearly see it. Every detail.

When I started this journey all I could do is see myself pregnant.

I had no problem closing my eyes and seeing my baby on the ultrasound screen. Hearing their heartbeat in the corners of my mind. It beat with mine.

And I could picture myself being a mother. Holding my baby. Giggling with and smiling at and kissing my baby.

I would also have these strong visions in church about my adoption and could picture my baby's christening.

I would dream about my baby. I had dreams all the time.

I dreamt of a beautiful, bald headed, chubby little baby boy about 5 months old in white "feety" pjs adorn with Christmas trees and I fed him in my red leather chair that faces the TV in my living room.

I dreamed of my sweet little girl of toddler age with soft brown curls, sucking on her pointer finger and laughing. We were outside and I was holding her on my hip. She was wearing a white sundress with cherries decorating it.

I could see them. Clearly. I would dream about them. Often.

But now they are fading.

I remember the day before I had my ultrasound, the one that told me I was going to miscarry again. I remember getting this distinct feeling. All week I had be walking on sunshine, reveling in my pregnancy. I even bought something for the nursery. The elephant mirror I had my eye on.

I was in my bedroom getting dressed thinking about being pregnant in the summer. And I thought to myself: "I hope it's not too hot this year" and as soon as that thought passed my mind another one came in and it said...you won't be pregnant this summer...and I knew...I knew in that moment it was over. And that amazing feeling of being pregnant faded.

And ever since then I can't seem to picture myself pregnant. It's slowly fading from my view.

Just the other day a dear friend of mine posted a video of her newborn son making faces and noises when she would speak to him.

I watched that video in awe. It's so beautiful.

And in an instant. It happened again and this thought crossed my mind that said...you will never have that...

All my visions of being a mother are fading.

I can't see my babies and I don't dream of them anymore. It's almost not tangible.

Fading away...all slowly disappearing until it's a distant memory and I don't know how to stop it. I am afraid that the only thing that will be left is a trace. A trace of an image that once was there, like an artist erasing a character from a sketch it will disappear. And all that is left is a faint outline of what could have been.

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Friday, December 16, 2011

An Inconvenient Truth:


No, I am not going to start a debate on Global Warming, Al Gore, Hypodermics on the shores, China's under martial law or Rock and Roller cola wars (for those of you that don't know that is from Billy Joel).

That's a flame that can be fanned at another time on another blog.

What I am going to do is express my thoughts on a recent blog post that I put up for discussion.

I opened up my last post with an invitation to discuss Megan's post on:

Millions of Miles: Raising Human Beings and Life Lessons from the Duggars

There are many issues brought up in this post. Issues that resonate with all that I have been going through and thinking.

Here is what Megan's thought provoking post brought up for me:

...when did we get to the point where we feel like we get to tell a mother that her child deserves to die and secretly rejoice a little bit when someone goes through a tragedy.

I am truly grateful that no one posted anything but heartfelt sympathy for Michelle Duggar and her miscarriage.

I am blessed to be surrounded by like minded people but that wasn't always the case.

The idea that it would even cross someone's mind to say that she "deserved this" is unthinkable but I am not sure I always thought this way.

I am pretty sure I can hear the me I was long ago saying things like: " She's an idiot for having 19 children" or " What did she expect? " etc...

And I can hear my friends of days gone past echoing the same sentiments.

I don't think I ever truly understood what a gift creating a life was.

The me of days gone by, that person I don't even remember being, looked at as "getting knocked up". Something you didn't want to do.

And if someone miscarried, I can vaguely remember phrases like: "It's for the best." "It's a blessing in disguise".

A blessing to miscarry?

I do remember the attitudes and thoughts on getting pregnant and miscarrying when I was growing up and those attitudes and thoughts fell more along the lines of "accident" and "thank God".

And if someone got "knocked up" at a young age there was one solution that pretty much everyone agreed was the "best" solution. If the "best" solution wasn't chosen, then the consensus was the unfortunate girl that got herself knocked up just ruined her life.

There was never really the sense of the miracle or the magic.

I am sure if Michelle Duggar was around in my lifetime past, the characters of that time, myself included would have echoed hateful sentiments out of what I can only conclude would be entitlement.

God forbid you ever have to wake up and hear the news. Then you really might know what it's like to have to lose ~ Everlast....

I know for a fact I didn't understand the pain of a miscarriage until I had one.

I remember a woman I worked with, she had gotten pregnant at an inconvenient time.

She said her and her boyfriend were planning on getting married but I wasn't sure how true that was and her career had kind of stalled. She was only working part time with me at the time.

Sometime in her 1st trimester she miscarried. I remember actually telling her that it was probably "for the best".

I told her now she could wait until she got married. There was no rush. It was a "blessing in disguise."

A few months later she was pregnant again.

I asked her why, why would she go and get herself pregnant again (that phrase alone shows how arrogant and entitled my thoughts were at the time) when she could wait (once again entitlement) until she was in a better position to have a child.

And in case anyone missed it, that whole sentence above is filled with arrogance and entitlement. But those were the attitudes and thoughts I was raised with on getting pregnant.

She told me that the pain from her miscarriage was just too unbearable and that all she wanted was to get pregnant again and have a baby.

I didn't comprehend.

I think I might have called her an idiot under my breathe.

I just couldn't understand.

I understand now.

That is a pain I now know all too well and it is unbearable.

...and hurt so deep that you wonder if you will ever feel normal again.

I often wonder if I will ever feel normal again.

My mother said to me on the phone after my second miscarriage: "I just want you to be happy again."

But I was happy. I was over the moon happy. Rejoicing in the fact that I was going to be a mom. I was going to be blessed with this miracle.

I had never been happier in my entire life.

Until it all fell apart.

And I try to think back to who I was 20 years ago, 10 years ago, 5 years ago, 1 year ago or even yesterday and I don't know that person. I am not that person anymore.

I remember about a year ago, sometime after my 1st miscarriage, I somehow pulled myself together, that's when I started blogging and I found the courage to cycle again. My BFF during one of our daily phone conversations, we were talking about all I had been through and how I had changed and she casually said to me: "I am proud that you are my friend."

That has always stuck with me. I want to be someone my friends are proud of and I am proud that she is my friend.

I have changed. Some changes are for the good. I would never think any women would "deserve" to lose their child or that a miscarriage was "for the best".

I now have a true understanding of the gift of life.

My child will be wanted, love and cherished.

I strive to be a better person.

But some changes are not for the good. I am broken, permanently damaged and forever mourning. I will never have that sheer joy of announcing a pregnancy and I will always feel the pain of loss.

I pray that I will be able to rejoice again in the knowledge that I am going to be a mom.

"I just want you to be a happy again"

Me too mom....me too!

I would think that no matter if it was your first baby or your 20th baby that loss is loss. Who are we to diminish someone's pain?

I sometimes feel that I did something to "deserve" my miscarriages.

That my cavalier attitudes toward pregnancy lead me to this place.

I have thoughts that it's payback for a time when I was so insensitive or a time when I might have utter the words like "deserve it".

Or a time when I would callously diminish someone's pain with worthless platitudes like:

"Well it could be worse, at least you weren't in your second trimester."

OR

"You could have had a disable child, which would be worse than a miscarriage."

OR

"At least you have other children"

OR

"It wasn't meant to be."

OR

"You could be homeless or starving or in a wheelchair..."

OR one of a million other "worst case" scenarios that people bring up meant to somehow make someone "count their blessings" instead of acknowledging the horrible thing that just happened to them.

We need to acknowledge, support and love. We need to show and feel compassion.

...but I also think that our society has shifted the way that we think about children. They are no longer viewed as blessings. They are seen as something we "do" for 18 years. We have lost out on the magic of what it means to care for someone.

And now here is where the Inconvenient Truth comes in because I do think people treat their kids as an inconvenience without even realizing it.

There is a reason I waited so long before starting my journey towards motherhood and that reason is because I wanted to be the kind of mother that took joy in her children. The kind of mother that saw them as a blessing not a burden.

There are so many people who say things like: "I was stuck with the kids."

"Stuck with the kids" like it's a death sentence. I can't go out and enjoy my life because I am "stuck with the kids".

Or they need to get their kids out of their hair.

They can't go out and have fun anymore.

Just before the summer started there was an article that got posted on Facebook:

"Parents Survival Guide for the Summer" with the introductory line of:

"Parents, are you secretly dreading a long, hot summer with the kids?"

A friend of mine responded to the article on Facebook with...

"This just pissed me off. Why have kids if you hate having them around?!?! I love when my kids are home for the summer...most of our best family bonding days are spent during the summer. Every year I cry the last day of summer vacation and begin the countdown to the next beginning of summer vacation. Love my kids and love spending time with them !!!!!"

I couldn't agree with her more. Imagine knowing that you are in your parent's hair, they are stuck with you and they can't have fun anymore...

Why did you have kids in the first place?

And why can't your children be your fun?

That's what I hope to do...

Have fun with my children.

Treasure every day.

Make every moment count.

My same Facebook friend eloquently posted another sentiment along the same lines:

"I think that some parents really need to lighten up a bit and remember that their kids will only be kids for such a short amount of time. If they could grasp this notion they'd have a whole different perspective on how they treat them. I am one of those people that never want my kids to grow up...I love every minute of them!!!!!"

They will be grown and gone before you know it.

I guess then you can start having fun.

...We are so tied to our technology and our careers and our pettiness that we forget that there are actual children wanting us to delight in them.

I was bartending one evening and a regular couple and their kids came in. I figured they would go into the dining room and have dinner.

No, the couple had to sit at the bar, so the plopped themselves down at the bar and put their children at a high top table behind them.

The mother then called me over and gave me a cake. It was her daughter's 10th birthday. She would tell me when to bring out the cake.

The whole night the parents sat at the bar and barely interacted with their children. The mother spent most of her time texting.

When everyone had finished eating the father, as almost an afterthought, said something to the mother about the cake.

She looked up from her phone and was like "Oh yeah...I guess you should bring the cake now."

Me and the other bartender went and got the cake, lit all the candles and walked out singing Happy Birthday.

The mother sitting at the bar with her back to her children continued to text.

The mother did not even get up from the bar and go to the table.

The daughter kept saying: "Mom! Mom! Come look! Come here!"

The mother didn't move.

I remember being appalled. I remember swearing that would never be me.

But what if I didn't wait to have children? What if this journey had been easy? If I had not miscarried? If I had easily "gotten myself pregnant"? Would I have in turn become a mother who is more interested in texting, drinking and getting her children out of her hair rather than one that cries when summer ends?

I posted to my friend on Facebook that she is the kind of mother that I dream of becoming. And she wrote back:

"And you will be because I know what kind of person you are! ♥"

No, it's the kind of person I've become...the kind of person I am.

But more importantly the kind of person I am not.


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