The state of the world

It's been exactly a year, I may not be a prolific writer but when I have something to say, sometimes writing is the best way to get it out. :)

It may be that I've been watching too much of The Lion King but it seems like we're missing out on "fathers". I use this term rather loosely because what I mean is I think there are some people that are missing out on what I think a "father" is supposed to be.

There have been two shootings in the last week. One that I joked about, only two people died after all, and with an automatic rifle and a lot of bullets he either had bad aim or it was just one of those things that happened. Only, it happened in my backyard, at a place where I shop and had visited with my family just days before. I can't really explain my reaction but I wasn't heartbroken I was just glad that my family was safe. Then a shooter went into a school, across the country, and killed a number of children, and I cried. I was shocked and saddened. I could relate because I have kids and the thought of someone taking them in that manner would be devastating. It was senseless and I wanted to know how this could happen, what would make someone do something so horrific and no one knew they were capable of something so devastating.

The reactions of others on social media sites and mainstream media has been polarizing and political. Everyone seems to want to find or has an answer to this "problem" and wants to fix it. Except it isn't an easy fix. There are too many things that are broken. You could take away guns, or at least the really powerful ones but we'd still make them, or even more powerful ones to equip our military. Hell, we use drones right now that create casualties at the least expense of life on our side but no such assurances for the people we are going after them with. You could try and convince the entire population if they just believed in God the same way all our problems would be solved. (just typing that seems silly, how possible would it really be to get everyone in the whole world to believe in one thing, we can't even all believe in Santa for heaven sake!) You could address the mental health crisis but most of that is just a band aid and doesn't always get to the root cause of peoples issues. Mental health in and of itself is not something easily "fixed". People are all different and can come to mental illness in varying ways. Maybe it's too many chemicals in our food, maybe it's the media and video games that warps and desensitizes us to violence, maybe it's our need as a society to label everything so people rise to the idea of whatever diagnosis they've been given. Or maybe we're losing the role of "father" in our society.

I have no solution but it seems to me that the erosion of the "father" and of positive, healthy male role models in general has had a devastating effect on our society. I'm sure there are some that would say the erosion of the "family" is the problem but family to me takes many forms and it's the roles in the family that are necessary to teach and raise healthy children. The role that "father's" or even a healthy male role model plays is vital and can't be replaced, even by well meaning single mothers.

A positive, healthy male role model to me is someone that teaches a girl to have self respect of her mind and body. Someone that teaches a boy that it's not necessary to have power over others to feel powerful. That strength comes from knowing when to defend yourself and when to reach out your hand and help someone up. That life is a series of ups and downs and that it's important to accept responsibility for your role and rise to the occasion of whatever life presents to you. That mistakes are life's lessons and sometimes can't be avoided but should always be learned from. And that respect is earned when you can be trusted and respect others.

Can this come from women? Sure, but clearly the impact isn't the same. There is a balance to life and when you remove an integral part of that balance, there is chaos.

I hope our society can find the balance soon, for all our sakes.

Reality Redifined

So I've been thinking...just hear me out...

It seems there are people out there that are Obsessed with reality television. There are also people out there that are Obsessed with thinking that reality television is a waste of time and why are there so many people that want to know what is going on with someone's life that they don't and will never know.

Then I clicked on a blog of someone that I've never met, doesn't know me, and for all I know, never will.

Blogging is like reality television for the internet.

That is all. (thought it was going to be much more profound huh? Yeah, me too)

:)

Re-Identificaiton Crisis

I could say it's an identity crisis, but it's really not. It's just me trying to figure out how to put this whole "motherhood" thing into it's place in my own identity. I don't want to become a women who only identifies themselves as being someones mother. I am more than that.

However, I can see how possible it is to get wrapped up in that one small piece of your identity. You convince yourself that their childhood won't really last that long but then they move out and you look around wondering where all the time went and regretting that you didn't do more while they were growing up to sustain yourself after they are gone. I am a daughter to a woman who did that and watch now as she struggles to re-define herself while still clinging to the notion that her children will still need her like they used to. It is not the life that I choose for myself.

I'm also playing with all the different ways that you can raise a child. It feels incredibly overwhelming sometimes, okay, if I'm being honest, it's overwhelming most times. :)

Now normally when I am confronted with something new I will go through a lot of different "ideas" before I hit on the one that fits me. I would describe it as trying on different outfits looking for the right one. For the sake of the analogy this would include everything, from the outfit itself down to the accessories including make up and nail polish. I want to try it on, take parts off, change them up until I find the "perfect" fit. There can be some level of frustration and irritation when I work this out because I'm trying to find what works for me and I don't always have the kind of time I want or need to work through all the changes.

Applying this same scenario to motherhood I'm finding isn't really working the way I thought it would. I'm not sure this is a bad thing exactly, I mean parents try different things all the time with their kids. Heck, people sometimes end up raising kids in the same family differently. I'm not sure how I feel about that though. While the intentions might be good, I'm not sure how comfortable I am with not having my shit together.

So this leaves me in a common, if not precarious position and I'm not sure what to do about it. My initial thought was to try and become an expert in parenting, cuz they have those, right? :) But I think with some time and reflection I've given myself permission to just do the best I can with what I know and get as much information as I can for the things I don't know yet, and forgive myself for the things I will just never know.

That's not a lot to expect, right?

A birth story...

Everyone thought you'd be early. Everyone. Okay, maybe not your Aunt Jenny, but pretty much everyone. :) Every appointment for four weeks I seemed to progress slightly, first 50% effaced and no dilation, then 70% and 1cm dilated, then 80% effaced and 1.5cm dilated, then at a -1 station.

I was nervous because your Uncle Michael's birthday is on the 24th, your Uncle Gregg's is on the 27th and your Grandma Little's is on the 28th, not to mention that I wanted to keep working all the way up to your due date of 10/1. Once I made it into work and all the birthdays had passed, I was ready for you to come in earnest (though I did kind of want you to be born on 10/4 so when people asked your birthday you could say '10/4 Good Buddy', you'll find I have a thing for birthdays and a weird sense of humor) :)

A girl that I met online had her daughter on Friday and we were due on the same day so I got desperate and started taking red raspberry tea that your Aunt Stacy helped me find at Whole Foods (I tried like three other places, not even Trader Joe's had it!) on Friday when I got off work. By Saturday I was even more determined to go into labor so I told your Dad, "We are walking to the Farmer's Market", he didn't really want to go but he went because I wanted to. He's like that, your Dad. :) We had a good time just wandering around all the different vendors, I ate one of the best raspberry filled croissants and we got breakfast burritos. Dad didn't like his much, and neither did his intestines. :) I had some good contractions on the walk back home so I kept walking in a figure eight around the living and dining room for a few hours to try and get a good contraction pattern going. Once I felt like things were going good your Dad said to rest a bit and see if they kept up; they stopped. We were rather disappointed but your Aunt Stacy came over with pizza and dessert and helped me finish cleaning your room; you'll find that she's rather awesome, especially when a distraction is needed. :)

Our one year wedding anniversary was the next day so we figured we'd just try and get things going on Monday or talk to the doctor at our appointment that day about how we could get me into active labor. You had other plans however. :)

At about 1:25am I leaped out of bed after feeling like there was liquid involuntarily coming out of my body. I didn't know if I was going pee or if my water broke and I said out loud to your Dad, "Um, I either just peed myself or my water broke" on the way to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet and felt like I peed, looked in the toilet and saw a little yellow but my p.j. pants and underwear were wet, not to mention all the mucous discharge. I got some new underwear and put a pad on as a precaution and went back to bed thinking that because I wasn't contracting I could at least get a little more sleep in case it wasn't my water breaking at all. Though it was slightly disconcerting to think it was all pee. :)

About 20min later I felt the same void of liquid leaving my body and once again leapt out of bed while water leaked out of me and down my legs. I told your Dad that I thought it really was my water breaking since I had leaked through the pad and underwear, again. He got me his phone and I called Labor and Delivery at the hospital and told them what happened, they said I had to come in right then. Your Dad was busily making sure the car was ready to go, we already had the car seat installed and our bags were in the car but he wanted to make sure everything was good to go (in his rush he did forget the battery to the little camera but we didn't find that out until we got home!). I changed my clothes, put on an 'overnight' pad and grabbed a folded up towel thinking that would help in case I leaked some more and got into the car.

I forget now what your Dad and I were talking about in the car on the way to the hospital, I think it was the fact that the car was picking up his songs on his phone and if I was okay with that and other random topics. All the while on the way to the hospital we saw three cars, which is ironic because we had every conceivable route mapped out just in case we had to worry about traffic and when it came down to it, there wasn't any at all. :) I leaked gushes of water about five more times while in the car, all rather disconcerting since it felt like I was sitting in a puddle and it was not very comfortable feeling. When we got out of the car at the hospital I made your Dad check to make sure it didn't look like I just sat up from a puddle as we were walking in; he promised that it didn't and the security guard that escorted us upstairs didn't mention anything so I guess he wasn't lying. :)

I still wasn't having any contractions until we got to the room and I had the gowns on (they gave me two so my butt wasn't hanging out, not that the gowns are flattering in any way at all, I looked like a house draped in cotton). The contractions were relatively small and not completely painful but I was aware of them. I walked around the room while your Dad and I discussed who we should call if anyone because by then it was almost 3am and we didn't know how long it would take for labor to really start and I didn't want to bug anyone that early in the morning. We decided to call your Aunt Ossha since she was coming from the furthest away, she lives about 4hrs north by car. She was ecstatic and said she'd be on her way later once she got her family all situated, I told her she should get some more sleep since it was bound to take awhile before you were born anyway and there was no reason to rush. We sent a text to Grandma Little and Grandma Louise next thinking we didn't want to wake them up since it was so early in the morning but wanted them to know as soon as they did. We got a response right away from Grandma Little that she would shower and be on her way. Your Dad had to call Grandma Louise at home a few hours later to make sure she got the text after that; she said she'd come once your Great-Grandparents were up and ready to go. Next we called your Aunt Stacy and told her we were at the hospital but she didn't need to come right way since it was so early and she should try and get some more sleep.

I'm a little fuzzy on the details after that but I remember that before anyone came the contractions got a little more intense, they put the outside monitors on for your heart and my contractions under this belly band that was really comfortable at first and later not so much. :) They checked me and I was 2cm dilated. I tried to tell them that's where I was but they thought I should have wanted to be further along than that, which I did of course but I'm also a realist and I could be happy if I was dilated more but didn't want to be disappointed when they told me I wasn't. :) They talked to Dr. Murray who said she would be in later to check on me. We were very fortunate that our doctor was the one on call, you have excellent timing my dear. :)

My contractions started getting a little stronger, mostly in my back and very uncomfortable. I labored for a bit on the birthing ball, on all fours on the bed, and walking around a bit. I asked about the epidural which I had previously been against because the contractions were a lot worse and I wasn't sure that I would be able to work through the pain but I didn't want to halt any forward progress on the contractions. The nurse explained that it probably wouldn't be a good idea to have the epidural right away but I could get IV drugs instead to take the edge off. I was concerned that they would travel to you but she said that they give them during a contraction to help minimize that risk and any drugs would work their way out of your system within an hour. After a couple more contractions, I agreed. The first dose worked for about an hour, the second, about 20 minutes. During the really bad contractions your Dad and Aunt Stacy would take turns massaging my back while on the birth ball. I decided I'd wait on the epidural until Dr. Murray came in after 8:30am but after that second IV shot I couldn't take the pain, it was very intense and I couldn't distract myself in between contractions the way I was previously. They asked me quite a few times, "Are you sure you want the epidural?", must have been some misguided attempt to forgo my disappointment on the other end but all I cared about in that moment was pain relief!

At some point they got a big dip in your heart rate and got concerned and put an internal monitor on your head to get a more accurate read since there were times that the external monitor would pick up our heartbeats together and to make sure that you weren't going into distress. Around that same time the epidural that was ordered came in the guise of a very old man that I didn't really see until later. Your Dad says he was very competent and must have had some kind of God complex about pain relief because he was very proud of himself when I wasn't feeling the pain anymore. :) Aunt Stacy stood in front of me holding my hands in a criss-cross while I folded over a pillow and sung "Man in the Mirror" by Michael Jackson because that was the song that was playing on the iPhone. The nurses were cracking up that I was singing but that's all I could think of doing to distract myself. :) I love that when they put in the local anesthetic they tell you that you will feel a slight burning when to me it always feels like they struck a match and decided to leave the flame on my skin. Thankfully the feeling doesn't last all that long and it didn't take very long before he was finished and I was all taped up. It took the edge of the pain off for a bit then I had total relief and couldn't feel any pain (or my legs) at all, though I could feel the pressure from the contractions. At first it was just in the front of my stomach that I felt it but it progressed to my butt after awhile.

Dr. Murray arrived a little after that, much later than expected so I'm glad I didn't wait to get the epidural, she talked to us about getting pitocin because the contractions I was having weren't intense enough to get things progressing. She tried convincing me that it was the best option because in the beginning I was very against getting any kind of pitocin because of your Grandma Little having issues when she had me when they put her on it and having to get a c-section from the escalation of intervention. I explained that the reason I didn't want it was more for the cascading interventions because usually you get pitocin, then the epidural, then c-section because the baby is in distress. However, I had the epidural already at that point and knew it can slow labor down if you don't have a good progress in contractions prior to getting it, which I didn't so I agreed to the pitocin. She said they would start with a really small dose and increase it in very small increments every half hour.

By then Grandma Louise and your Great Grandparents had come to visit and gone back home and Grandma Little and Aunt Ossha had shown up and I was just laying in the bed relaxed and being moved from one side to another in a jack-knife position every half hour or so to help move you down the birth canal and get my cervix to dilate properly. It was amazing, there was no pain at all, just the pressure and in a matter of hours (about 6 from when I started getting the pitocin) I was ready to push you out.

At first I only wanted your Dad in the room while I was pushing but at the point when they said I could start pushing I didn't want to ask anyone to leave, it seemed rude almost to let them stay to be present for the waiting but not the final act so I told your Dad that it was okay that everyone stayed in the room so he called Grandma Louise and told her she could come to the hospital to watch your birth if she wanted but she had to hurry since I was going to start pushing soon.

I told Dr. Murray that I was afraid of tearing and wanted to minimize this as much as possible so we worked out a good position using the handholds at first with the stirrups and moved on to me holding my legs back and pushing with each contraction. I could still feel the contraction pressure so as soon as I felt it build I took a deep breath, opened my ears for your Dad, and focused on pushing you out. It took a few pushes before I got the hang of what I needed to do to get you moving. Everyone was very encouraging and said you were really coming down well and your Dad was really helpful reminding me to keep my elbows out and to hold my breath while pushing. In between contractions I focused on relaxing my entire body except where you were. I held the push so you wouldn't move back up the canal. I almost lost my concentration when one of our nurses said "Fries are done". It's a joke between your Dad and I that she didn't know about and I started crying I was laughing so much, it was a near thing keeping my focus because of how amazing it was that I got my wish to laugh during labor, it was a very special moment for me prior to seeing you of course. :)

I had my eyes closed most of the time to help me focus and Dr. Murray kept asking if I wanted a mirror to watch you come out. I wasn't interested at all, not that I wouldn't have been happy to see you but really, birth isn't exactly "pretty" :) And what if I had seen myself poop? No way was I having it! However, when I felt your face and head be born I got excited and very determined to get you out so I could see you. Dr Murray helped work your shoulders out and said "Open your eyes Trina and look at your daughter", and it was the most amazing moment of my life. You looked right at me.

You had a really good cry right from the beginning, they cleaned you off right on my belly while your Dad and I were saying hello to you. Everyone that was in the room came and introduced themselves to you and then left the room so that your Dad and I could spend some time with you alone.

I know that while I was pushing everyone was taking pictures, I could hear them in the background and there are some very special moments that are captured from that special day that I hope you love as much as we do.

The coutdown begins...

I'm in single digit weeks now. Wait, what?!?!? Single digits!?!?! :) I know, it freaked me out too. :)

I must say that the more time has gone on I've felt a lot better compared to how I felt in the beginning. I'm sure there are a lot of things that have helped contribute to that. Not the least of which is getting to the bottom of why I was feeling the way I was, and of course, getting things done around the house. :)

I'm concentrating now on being in the moment, and when I'm nervous or scared about what is coming, I'm trying to experience it for what it is and then attempting to move on. After all, it's normal for a first time mother to consider giving birth to be many things, right? :) I'm actually pretty proud of myself and how I've handled this pregnancy. I think I've felt just about every emotion there is in the last few months and I'm still here, hanging on, and thankful that I haven't really gone crazy in any one direction. I was even tested by my mom. And I feel at peace with the process and I still hope that one day she will find happiness and trust that the world, including her children, are not out to get her. I'm not sure it will ever happen, but it can't hurt to hope. :)

Now my thoughts have been tightly wrapped around birth and trying to figure out how I'm going to get through it calmly, rationally, and in a perfect world, with a little laughter. In an effort to accomplish that I will take one day at a time, remember to breathe, allow those around me to comfort me and guide me, focus on relaxing and remembering at the end will be this perfect little person I'll get to meet, no matter how she comes into the world.

And when/if I start to feel overwhelmed, I'll just distract myself with nesting. :D

And baby makes three...

Well, not quite yet but I'm half way through and we just had our anatomy ultrasound today and everything looked great!

I've been steadily getting better since my last blog. I have my days, but I had those pre-pregnancy too so I'm chalking that up to normal. :)

I thought from the very first it was a girl, and with that first thought I probably jinxed myself knowing me. I have always been terrified of having a girl. At all. I know that people say that girls are easier but when you look at mother/daughter relationships, you know that it's not. I want her to be my family legacy redemption but then I think, how can it be possible to put that kind of pressure on someone that has no idea what she's supposed to be redeeming? I wonder how many mother's say, "I will not do what my own mother has done".

I think that is my lesson, to do for her what was, and was not done for me. To help her find the balance in life, that it's not all bad, it's not all good, but there is a beauty in living the journey that you set for yourself. I need to watch for extremes, both from me and around me.

This may be my most difficult journey. To help guide this little girl growing inside me to be her own person, to take from me what she needs and build on it from what she has that's her very own.

I am terrified of it still. But on the other hand, I'm kind of excited for the challenge. To push myself farther than I've gone. To make mistakes and be forgiven. To hang on to my faith that no matter what, it will always work out the way that it's supposed to, but it doesn't hurt to throw some work in every now and again. :)

I can't wait to welcome you to this world, Vivian Faith. You are my daughter, and I will love you more than anything will in this world (except maybe your Dad). And I will let you be you, if it kills me. :)

It's NOT Hormones! :)

It seems I need to write at least once a month, or at least I have been. :) I actually write in my head, a lot of the time, and sometimes it makes it to the page. I used to write in a journal but even that was edited sometimes because I was afraid that someone would read it and ask me about it, guess times have changed. :)

I still feel a little of what I did in my last post, okay, to be honest, I'm about 50% still there. I find myself thinking lately how when you are a parent you can only give as good as what you've got. If the skills aren't there though, where does that leave your kids? Probably thinking, "Why the hell won't they just...." when the parents are thinking "How the hell am I going to teach them..." it's an amusing irony to me. Your child will never understand what you went through before, during, or after you have them. Even after having children of their own because then they are having their own experience and it's different from the experience you had. But no matter what, it's still life changing.

I'm so glad I get at least 9 months to go through this, I can't imagine waking up and in a week becoming a mother. There's no way I could process something like this so quickly. I'm grateful for time. And on the other hand, I wish it wasn't taking so long because it's forcing me to look at myself again.

I'm forced to sit with my thoughts, fears, excuses, and shortcomings. I'm forced to work at being present. Not that it sucks but, it kind of sucks. I want to be lazy. I want to not wonder what I'm putting in my mouth because it might not be as healthy as it could be. I want to sit in a quiet room with the music loud in my ears and cry.

And I will honor that, I won't bury it, I will allow myself to grieve for the life I had so that I can be grateful for the one that's coming. Because that's what it feels like to me, grief. And it feels so good to feel like I figured that out, and to honor it. When you acknowledge something for what it is, it makes it easier to move on to the next thing, whatever that is. I don't think that means I'm going to wake up tomorrow and everything will be perfect but I will wake up and try to make a better choice as much as I can. Eventually all those choices will add up and I'll look back and be happy that I let myself be 'me' and proud that I came through the journey instead of sleeping through it.

Too much sleep is bad for you anyway. :)