Merry Christmas from our house to your house! Things have been a little out of control lately. But tonight, instead of putting in my thousandth hour of studying, I have the sudden urge to blog. So, here goes.
My daughter has entered the full-time workforce and is taking the mail room in stride. She has figured out that college may be a fine alternative to opening mail for the rest of her life, but at the same time, she has also figured out that a solid income is a good thing. However, it does not come without it's bumps. Growing up is hard to do and letting go and allowing your child to make mistakes may be even harder. In my next life, I am going to write a book about how it may be a good idea to not allow any living person to have access to their own money until they are much older than 18. Heck, I have a difficult time with money-management and I am much older than 18. Much older.
And, juggling one's income when one also has a child to raise is even harder. She would tell you that there is a certain kind of pride in helping to make your own way in this world, and I truly believe that she is striving for that. But, as I predicted, she had NO IDEA how expensive children really are, and frankly, I think it is eye-popping for her. Now, I do believe that this is a good thing, but alarming, and somewhat depressing, none-the-less. And, to be totally honest, I appreciate the fact that she can help a bit. My budget took a hit this year, and there is no getting around that. If not for the help of our family....well, we are not going to think about that. For some reason, Christmas brings out the appreciation for the people who we love the most, and for us, this Christmas brings it out even more.
Brady is awesome and is growing every day. He had to go to Mayo to see about his somewhat pigeon-toed stance, and it was officially certified by no less than three doctors that he is advanced in motion department. Our 8 month old bundle is crawling like a champ, standing up to things, and even letting go for about 5 seconds at a time before he falls over. And, his little pigeon-toed issue is already better and going away every day. The doctors told us to come back if he is not better by the time he is four....
They said that there was no-doubt that he would be an early walker....not something that is required, by any means. He just LOVES anything that he should not be into, especially if it is breakable, and he is already starting to give the little "look" when he knows he should not be pulling that ornament off of the tree, or pulling the "pretty" off of the end table. If he did not have dimples, he may be in trouble. He also stands in the crib and says, "Mum...Mum...Mum...and Ga..Ga..Ga." I am Ga...I will take it.
All Braden wants for Christmas is his two bottom teeth and a box of Cheerios. He sure is trying. Oh, did I mention that he is the 95th percentile for height and weight. At this rate, he will pass up his Mommy at about age 2.
To say that we are sitting in a different place this year than we were last year would be the understatement of the century. However, I do have to say, there are not words to describe how much better it is....I had no idea how much our lives would change... When I adopted my daughter, I could not imagine anything that would ever be as wonderful. Then came Brady. Every mountain that we have to climb, every lesson that we have to learn the hard way, every dollar that is spend, every sleepless hour, every worry, and every sacrifice brings us back to Brady. And brings me home to my daughter.
What a gift we have been given! God is Good! Merry Christmas!
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Monday, November 7, 2011
Schools Out....til next year
I feel like someone keeps making me jump into the ice bath, then crawl into the sauna. My conflicting emotions today are overwhelming. We are on the countdown. My daughter is done with high school. Tomorrow, she has completed a 13-year chapter in her life. I am so very proud, and so very sad, all at the same time. I know it is the right thing for her to be done three quarters early, and I know that her working for a couple of months, then starting college early is the good and right thing to do, but the Mommy part of me is very, very sad. Believe-it-or-not, I am not ready for all of this maturity.
She is terrified. Of course, she is not admitting it, but she is, and I know it. The reality of adulthood has enveloped her and she is scared. Sometimes fright is not a bad thing.
As fate would have it, I have worked to get her a temporary job at my work. The requirements are that she be 18 years old, and a high school graduate. Se interviews for a full-time job on Monday. She will be working full-time for about two months, even with the opportunity for over-time. There will be no rest for the weary. I personally hope that they work her so hard and she gets so frustrated that she appreciates that in order to move on to better things, she needs to buckle down and take college seriously.
However, I was young once too. (I kind of remember it….tee hee) Moving into this next chapter will bring adventures and stumbling blocks and anyone who thinks otherwise is silly. Personally, I changed my major four times before I graduated with a Social Work degree, and one would argue that I maybe should have made one more change. I know that the future will be interesting for my daughter. Heck, the past and current have been interesting, so why would that stop now. However, I also know that as corny as it sounds, I love and appreciate her more and more every day. She has been a challenge to parent, but also a delight. She has allowed me to experience so many things that I would not have otherwise experienced, and I have been able to appreciate them through her eyes, which has been a real adventure at times. I have had my best times, and my worst times with her by my side.
She is an excellent mother. It is such a delight to watch a young, energetic and spry young Mommy crawl on the floor and play with her increasingly mobile son. He will so appreciate her youth. I envision a future with lots of activity, and she cannot wait to be the parent that volunteers to coach his teams. He delights in her every move and is at the place where he is not at all happy if she even leaves the room for a minute.
I need to thank Nerstrand Elementary, Faribault Middle School, Faribault High School, and the Area Learning Center for making my daughter’s education possible. She had a fantastic start as a member of the inaugural Kindergarten class at the Nerstrand Charter School. Nerstrand nurtured her and offered an elementary education that could not have been surpassed. Faribault Middle and High School allowed her to transition and to exercise her athletic abilities, which kept her happy throughout her adolescence. And, finally, the ALC, which picked her up when she was most vulnerable, and allowed her to make her own path. Education is what you make of it as a student, and even though it is a known fact that there are always room for improvements in the education system, a lot of things were done right also.
Letting go is a difficult thing. But being able to watch the transformation to independence is beautiful.
CONGRATS FALCON FOOTBALL!!! We may have gained an early graduate, but we did not lose a Pep Band player!!!!Thursday, September 15, 2011
C.H. Moments
As most of you know, my daughter is adopted. She was born in Russia and spent the first two and one-half years of her life in an orphanage. She did the best that she could in a dark, musty building in the middle of a pretty big city surrounded by 23 of her best friends. She lived for the 20 minutes on the hour potty training, and the borsht and bread meals. We spent almost a month trying to convince the staff and government that we truly did love these children when we got home and we did not sell their body parts...really, the concept of unconditional love and acceptance was not understood, by many, many people we encountered.
A side-effect of this phenomenon for me was the invention of the "C.H. Moment." This is the "if the Children's Home could see me now" Moment. The "C.H. Moment" can best be described as the instances that occurred throughout my daughter's life that literally stopped time for me. I would watch her doing the things that she loved - sports, playing, being with her family and friends, and something that I cannot describe would come over me. I would imagine what it would be like if I could stop time and show those people who did not understand....the gift that I was given. And, I wanted them to see that she was thriving, with most of her body parts (and, just for the record, I did not sell the ones that are missing...quite on the contrary). "C.H. Moments" would come at the oddest times....in the middle of a swim race, when she was dribbling the basketball down the court, when she was jumping on the trampoline, when she drove out of the driveway in her car for the first time, and even when she ran into the house with a good report card. The moments jumped out during those pivotal times in her life...baptism, confirmation, 5th grade graduation, and even her first day of high school. But they come every day too.
Truthfully, I have not thought about "C.H. Moments" for a very long time. I think the emotional struggles of the past year put that whole thought process away for awhile. I did talk to the adoption agency when my daughter was about six months pregnant and I was somewhat surprised to hear that teenage pregnancy is not uncommon with adopted children. It seems that that issue of reaching for someone who is truly bound to you by blood is something that is sought by many. And, even though I am convinced that this was not the factor that took my daughter to this place, I do believe that it was a part of the picture.
Three weeks ago, the thought of "C.H. Moments" came rushing back. My daughter made the decision to quit swimming, and believe-it-or-not, it was a big deal for both of us. Many "C.H. Moments" came out of swimming. In her prime, she loved it. She thrived on the camaraderie....and so did I. She tried to like it, but from the beginning of practice until the end, she looked at the clock and wanted to leave. She started to chose not to attend practice, and she was not regretful - only sad that she did not miss it. For me, it was one more thing that had to change....and end. There were lots of tears.
Today when I came home from work, my daughter was sitting doing her online Math class, while talking to Brady, who was chatting away in the exersaucer. She kept making him giggle and he was just grinning from ear to ear.....I had a GIANT "C.H. Moment!"
A side-effect of this phenomenon for me was the invention of the "C.H. Moment." This is the "if the Children's Home could see me now" Moment. The "C.H. Moment" can best be described as the instances that occurred throughout my daughter's life that literally stopped time for me. I would watch her doing the things that she loved - sports, playing, being with her family and friends, and something that I cannot describe would come over me. I would imagine what it would be like if I could stop time and show those people who did not understand....the gift that I was given. And, I wanted them to see that she was thriving, with most of her body parts (and, just for the record, I did not sell the ones that are missing...quite on the contrary). "C.H. Moments" would come at the oddest times....in the middle of a swim race, when she was dribbling the basketball down the court, when she was jumping on the trampoline, when she drove out of the driveway in her car for the first time, and even when she ran into the house with a good report card. The moments jumped out during those pivotal times in her life...baptism, confirmation, 5th grade graduation, and even her first day of high school. But they come every day too.
Truthfully, I have not thought about "C.H. Moments" for a very long time. I think the emotional struggles of the past year put that whole thought process away for awhile. I did talk to the adoption agency when my daughter was about six months pregnant and I was somewhat surprised to hear that teenage pregnancy is not uncommon with adopted children. It seems that that issue of reaching for someone who is truly bound to you by blood is something that is sought by many. And, even though I am convinced that this was not the factor that took my daughter to this place, I do believe that it was a part of the picture.
Three weeks ago, the thought of "C.H. Moments" came rushing back. My daughter made the decision to quit swimming, and believe-it-or-not, it was a big deal for both of us. Many "C.H. Moments" came out of swimming. In her prime, she loved it. She thrived on the camaraderie....and so did I. She tried to like it, but from the beginning of practice until the end, she looked at the clock and wanted to leave. She started to chose not to attend practice, and she was not regretful - only sad that she did not miss it. For me, it was one more thing that had to change....and end. There were lots of tears.
Today when I came home from work, my daughter was sitting doing her online Math class, while talking to Brady, who was chatting away in the exersaucer. She kept making him giggle and he was just grinning from ear to ear.....I had a GIANT "C.H. Moment!"
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Cold, Early Morning Revelations
Last night I woke up at about 3 am to a cold house. My maternal instincts kicked me and before I knew what I was doing, or even before I woke up, I was in the bedroom covering up my baby…I hope she warmed up.
Oh… I covered up her baby too.
I have wondered about this moment for the last 16 years - the moment when I would be getting her ready for her senior year of high school. We would be preparing for a future that would include the “last” of everything high school - the last homecoming game, the last Sadie Hawkins Dance, the last prom, the last band concert, the last high school final and finally…graduation. And, as I stood in the middle of her bedroom at 3:00 this morning I figured out something…it is here and even though it is very different than I could have ever imagined it to be, it is still here.
Oh… I covered up her baby too.
I have wondered about this moment for the last 16 years - the moment when I would be getting her ready for her senior year of high school. We would be preparing for a future that would include the “last” of everything high school - the last homecoming game, the last Sadie Hawkins Dance, the last prom, the last band concert, the last high school final and finally…graduation. And, as I stood in the middle of her bedroom at 3:00 this morning I figured out something…it is here and even though it is very different than I could have ever imagined it to be, it is still here.
We are still in the midst of planning for a future that will not always include me.
This life is certainly an adventure and a constant learning experience. My daughter made a very deliberate decision to go out for swimming this fall, then a week later, she made equally as deliberate a decision to quit. Essentially, she decided that she just did not have fun with it anymore. And, in the end, it was much harder on me than it was on her, which only proves that it was the right decision. I still have to work through this new normal....we both do. I took it hard, but that may be because it was one of the first things that I had to check off of that senior year checklist.....
In the midst of the trauma, yes I said trauma, of re-living the events of one year ago, I was slapped with a real and profound moment while standing in the middle of her bedroom looking over the crib. I could not imagine one minute without that little round-headed, thumb-sucking boy who is an absolute image of his mother. Therefore, standing in a chilly house at 3 in the morning, I finally gave myself a little break.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
I have a Mild Case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, I fear
I am suffering the PSTD. One year ago my life changed so dramatically that even though I was very aware that I was going through it, I was not able to deal with all of the emotions that went along with it. It is so very hard to explain, but having your life turn upside down in a matter of a few minutes can drastically alter one's psyche for quite a long time.
I have tried really hard to take all of this one emotion at a time. I was sad, then scared, then sad again, then scared, then a bit excited, then resolved, then scared again, then happy, then scared....well you get the picture. It was not a death, but my life was in critical condition for a bit of time. And, like in a the situation with a death, marking the one year anniversary is proving to be kind of trying for me. And, I have to say, that for the first time since this all happened, this may be all about me - and that in itself is kind of altering.
My daughter is trying to replay her normal activities, and capture that "last hurrah" that her Senior Year in high school should bring. She is back in the pool, getting ready for her first band practice, reading over her schedule and making plans for the year. EXCEPT, she is also arranging childcare, worrying about missing her son, and finding out that she is never going to be looked at the same again, and things are never going to go back to how they were, and her normal is not going to match any one's normal....and maybe that is alright. Bless her heart, she is coping.
I am sad. And I don't know if it is because she is a Senior and inevitably she will grow up and go on, or if it is because I see her struggling to fit into a place that is so different for her now, even though it has not changed....she has. And, like all parents, I really hate to see her disappointed. And, she is disappointed right now for reasons that are silly, yet important to her (and therefore to me). For you see, something that she has dreamed about since 7th grade passed her by and she really feels like she is being punished for her transgressions. She is too upset to ask questions, but instead she is sad. And, even though she is grown up and I try so hard to have her fight her own battles, I stepped in, one last time, and I fear that I will be more sad before it is over. But, it will be better to have her know the truth. And, it will be better to go on after that....
I am sure that like all of life's issues, I will get through this, and like the actions of the last year, good may even come out of this. But I do have to say that re-living the nightmare is not all that fun. The PSTD can take the exit anytime because really, we are doing fine.
I have tried really hard to take all of this one emotion at a time. I was sad, then scared, then sad again, then scared, then a bit excited, then resolved, then scared again, then happy, then scared....well you get the picture. It was not a death, but my life was in critical condition for a bit of time. And, like in a the situation with a death, marking the one year anniversary is proving to be kind of trying for me. And, I have to say, that for the first time since this all happened, this may be all about me - and that in itself is kind of altering.
My daughter is trying to replay her normal activities, and capture that "last hurrah" that her Senior Year in high school should bring. She is back in the pool, getting ready for her first band practice, reading over her schedule and making plans for the year. EXCEPT, she is also arranging childcare, worrying about missing her son, and finding out that she is never going to be looked at the same again, and things are never going to go back to how they were, and her normal is not going to match any one's normal....and maybe that is alright. Bless her heart, she is coping.
I am sad. And I don't know if it is because she is a Senior and inevitably she will grow up and go on, or if it is because I see her struggling to fit into a place that is so different for her now, even though it has not changed....she has. And, like all parents, I really hate to see her disappointed. And, she is disappointed right now for reasons that are silly, yet important to her (and therefore to me). For you see, something that she has dreamed about since 7th grade passed her by and she really feels like she is being punished for her transgressions. She is too upset to ask questions, but instead she is sad. And, even though she is grown up and I try so hard to have her fight her own battles, I stepped in, one last time, and I fear that I will be more sad before it is over. But, it will be better to have her know the truth. And, it will be better to go on after that....
I am sure that like all of life's issues, I will get through this, and like the actions of the last year, good may even come out of this. But I do have to say that re-living the nightmare is not all that fun. The PSTD can take the exit anytime because really, we are doing fine.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Class of 2012....Part One
The times they are a-changing. What a journey this has proven to be. And, I don’t know if the fact that we are approaching the one-year anniversary of the dam breaking in our family, or if I am just having issues with the fact that my daughter is becoming an adult, but my anxiety-level is on high right now. This whole thing is so much more complicated than I ever thought possible….how does one hold on to their dreams, while having to re-write the map to the dreams? Are they my dreams, or her dreams? How can she accomplish this? How can I help her to accomplish this? Does she want to accomplish this? How does Brady fit into this? How much do I let go? How much do I hang on? CALGON TAKE ME AWAY!
We went to school to sign her up for classes for her senior year, only to discover that she has less than 2 credits left to complete, and she is done. This calculates to four classes for one quarter. Or, in her case, 2 classes for one quarter and 2 classes for one semester. Then she is done with high school. The end – Amen.
Statistically, she should be behind. Most teenaged mothers put themselves back at least one semester, and usually one year, in school when they become pregnant prior to their senior year of high school. Statistically, most teen-aged mothers don’t complete high school and ultimately either obtain a GED or do not finish. But, if there is one thing that is to be learned from my daughter, it is this….she is not a statistic. If there is a backwards, up-a-rope and down-a-building, in-a-window and out-a-door-way to accomplish something, she will surely go for it. Come to find out, all that summer school and her absolute love of Independent Study put her ahead when she was out having a baby. And, the topping of the cupcake…she passed her math MCA while she was actually in labor - only my daughter could accomplish such a feat….
So, what do we do? WHAT DO WE DO? Academically she may be ready for high school to be over, but socially, she may not be ready for high school to be over. And, as I have preached in this blog since the beginning, I WANT HER TO HAVE A SENIOR YEAR. So, she and I have picked it apart and put it back together again….again…and again.
I gave her the decision about swimming. For the very first time in her short life, I left it up to her, with the only advice from me being to not leave any regrets out there. So, after many, many weeks of thinking about it and not thinking about it, and worrying about her body, and her ability to be social with the other girls, and most importantly her time away from Brady… she has decided to TRY swimming. She is committed to the 1/3 of the season where she can participate and still get her money back if she decides that it is too much time away from her real world. She is happy with her decision and I am ecstatic…but that is beside the point.
And as for that time when she is done with her high school credits? Well, how about a little college? Yes, she is going to enter the world of a college freshman in January - one semester ahead of her peers. Yes, I said AHEAD.
You will not find this life plan outlined in “How to” Books, but who knows, we may be writing our own book…. I am just along for the ride.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Tongues and Cheeks
So, I have spent the last two weeks making funny faces and raspberries. The baby book says that we are supposed to mimic his facial expressions in order to show him that we are interested. So, I have been mimicking...and showing him some tricks of my own. Then it happened. He mirrored me. Now, he is obsessed with sticking his tongue out at anyone or anything that looks at him or he finds interesting. It is a riot. And, if you think I am funny and he reacts to me, you should see him around his mother, he is a regular stand-up comedian. It is truly very fun to watch.
I continue to be completely floored and humbled by the fact that I have been given such a gift. Anyone who knows me, knows that I have always been very fond of children, and even though I fulfilled my lifelong dream of raising a child, my inner-self so desired to have a baby. I loved every minute of parenting my 2 year old daughter when she came to me, but I do know now how much I missed. I am so thankful to be able to experience the feeling of watching a baby be born, holding a baby in my arms every morning and every night, and loving him like no other. I love the first smiles, the first giggles, and even the first raspberries....free shower and all.
My daughter is approaching motherhood and life the best that she can right now. She is working hard and starting to spend a little time with her friends also. She is working to achieve some sort of "normal" in a very different world. She is showing responsibility beyond comprehension, and for that I am very proud. As her parent, I find myself trying to figure out how to let her be a teenager and a mother at the same time, while I am experiencing all of the same issues of any parent of a senior in high school....change, and planning, and letting go...while I hold on.....the whole thing is quite mind-boggling.
I continue to be completely floored and humbled by the fact that I have been given such a gift. Anyone who knows me, knows that I have always been very fond of children, and even though I fulfilled my lifelong dream of raising a child, my inner-self so desired to have a baby. I loved every minute of parenting my 2 year old daughter when she came to me, but I do know now how much I missed. I am so thankful to be able to experience the feeling of watching a baby be born, holding a baby in my arms every morning and every night, and loving him like no other. I love the first smiles, the first giggles, and even the first raspberries....free shower and all.
My daughter is approaching motherhood and life the best that she can right now. She is working hard and starting to spend a little time with her friends also. She is working to achieve some sort of "normal" in a very different world. She is showing responsibility beyond comprehension, and for that I am very proud. As her parent, I find myself trying to figure out how to let her be a teenager and a mother at the same time, while I am experiencing all of the same issues of any parent of a senior in high school....change, and planning, and letting go...while I hold on.....the whole thing is quite mind-boggling.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Parenthood
“Before you had a name or opened up your eyes
Or anyone could recognize your face.
You were being formed so delicate in size
Secluded in God’s safe and hidden place.
With your little tiny hands and little tiny feet
And little eyes that shimmer like a pearl
He breathed in you a song and to make it all complete
He brought the masterpiece into the world.
You are a masterpiece
A new creation He has formed
And you’re as soft and fresh as a snowy winter morn.
And I’m so glad that God has given you to me
Little Lamb of God, you are a masterpiece.
And now you’re growing up and your life’s a miracle
Every time I look at you I sand in awe
Because I see in you a reflection of me
And you’ll always be my little lame from God.
And as your life goes on each day
How I pray that you will see
Just how much your life has meant to me.
And I’m so proud of you
What else is there to say?
Just be the masterpiece He created you to be.”
Braden James was baptized on Sunday, July 3. As the Grandparent, and a chosen Godparent, I went into the whole experience with delight, and actually some trepidation. This was to be the first time we were going to stand in front of our church family, and in essence the public, and declare that this had happened to our family. I was prepared to have it be one of those events that all Lutherans go through….kind of a small rite of passage, without a lot of emotion or ceremony. But I was wrong.
Braden’s baptism was profound for me. Maybe the most profound experience so far. My daughter, the one that I love the most in the entire world, stood up on that alter, alone as a parent, and responded with conviction about her desire to present her son – the one that she loves the most in the entire world – for Holy Baptism. She thoughtfully expressed her desire to be responsible for bringing him up to learn about God, and to experience the wonderful Sacraments and Rites that she has already experienced. I was completely proud of her and, once again, in awe of her courage and convictions. I learn so much from her everyday. And she chose strong, committed people to sponsor her son in Baptism. He is a very fortunate little boy to have those awesome people on his side.
As was the case when I stood on that alter, alone as a parent, on one of the most proud days of my life, and Baptized my daughter, it once again came to me that parenting is not biological, it is emotional. The physical act of parenthood can be accomplished by the majority of people in the world, but the emotional act is the part that requires commitment and selflessness. My daughter has front row seats to these differences. She is ready and willing to do whatever it takes to raise her child and she would move heaven and earth, scale hot coals, put him ahead of her in any situation (even if it were uncomfortable), and gladly take a bullet for her son. She is a Mother.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Breast milk with a side of formula, please.
Life is just rolling along here. We are experiencing new "firsts" every day, from the first face-exploding smile to the first audible giggle, to the first time he noticed that when he looks back his toes are still there....
I wish I could give big words of wisdom about managing this multi-generational household, but the truth of the matter is that I feel like every day is still a new adventure, and the only thing I have learned for sure in the last few months is that I do not think that the word "settled" is ever going to come into my vocabulary again....Establishing a "new normal" is not going to be easy, or simple, or a quick process. And, given the current state of my senior in high school, I am not sure that any "new normal" is going to last very long.....breathe in....breathe out.....breathe in.....repeat.....
Baby Brady is a hearty young lad. He is weighing in at a healthy 13 lbs. He now weighs about 4 lbs less that his Momma did at 28 months when she came to me from Russia....yes, she was malnourished, but none-the-less, at this rate, he will pass her up at about age 4 .....
Mommy is back to working at least four days per week, fast pitch playing, volleyball playing, and hanging with friends, with a delicate juggling of motherhood put in for flavor. She is very responsible and doing an excellent job of being there and adjusting to the situation.
Again, I just don't know what we did without him...and speaking of him, I gotta sign off. He is hungry....go figure.
I wish I could give big words of wisdom about managing this multi-generational household, but the truth of the matter is that I feel like every day is still a new adventure, and the only thing I have learned for sure in the last few months is that I do not think that the word "settled" is ever going to come into my vocabulary again....Establishing a "new normal" is not going to be easy, or simple, or a quick process. And, given the current state of my senior in high school, I am not sure that any "new normal" is going to last very long.....breathe in....breathe out.....breathe in.....repeat.....
Baby Brady is a hearty young lad. He is weighing in at a healthy 13 lbs. He now weighs about 4 lbs less that his Momma did at 28 months when she came to me from Russia....yes, she was malnourished, but none-the-less, at this rate, he will pass her up at about age 4 .....
Mommy is back to working at least four days per week, fast pitch playing, volleyball playing, and hanging with friends, with a delicate juggling of motherhood put in for flavor. She is very responsible and doing an excellent job of being there and adjusting to the situation.
Again, I just don't know what we did without him...and speaking of him, I gotta sign off. He is hungry....go figure.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Smile. Giggle. Burp.....fluff...........repeat
I was reading my "Chicken Soup for Grandmother's" book the other night - not that I am into those tear-jerker kind of stories, but they do make me tired sometimes, which allows me to get to sleep, which for me is kind of a trick. Anyway, there was this story about a Grandmother who had a distant relationship with her grandson over Skype. She was excited for the technology, and I was genuinely excited that our generation has those kind of options for people who do not live close.
But, I do not have to Skype. This morning, my nine year old beagle had a seizure in my bed and had an accident. This does not happen often, and actually, it is much more scary than annoying for me. And, thankfully, I gently guided her to the backdoor before the mess got too bad. But, then, to top it off, my five week old Grandson did his own impression of a backyard sprinkler....also on my bed. And, to top off his impression, he acquired a new bit of behavior this week. He giggled. Yes, we have another comedian in the family now. I texted my daughter, who was at the dentist being "crowned," and informed her that both her dog and her baby were leaky. She giggled too. Today, we washed sheets.
Gas is a popular subject at our house. We talk about if he needs to burp, how many times he burped, and how amazing it is that someone so little can "fluff" so loudly and with so much gusto. We are certain that he is going to explode at times. He giggles.
Tomorrow I get to babysit while my daughter trots off to her new job. She is going to be trained to fill in for any number of positions at a local hotel, so that she can fill in for vacations, no shows, or full occupancy. She will do everything from the front desk to housekeeping. It should be interesting. It is not her ideal occupation, but she does recognize that money is an essential thing that she needs to be making. She is also a lifeguard, but for some reason that she is not sure of, she is not getting any hours to lifeguard. She believes that she was a victim of discrimination - based on the fact that she has a baby. I am not sure that discrimination is the right word, but rather she may be the victim of a situation that is new, and therefore being avoided by management. Even though, the truth of the matter is that her having a baby should not affect her work at all. Oh well. We pick our battles in this world.
School is over, and summer is here. I wish I could write a long review that praises our school system for it's fine management of a six-week home bound program that is mandatory for public school students who need it for medical reasons, but unfortunately, if I wrote a long review, it would not be filled with much praise. My daughter did her part by contacting the school on SIX occasions before they got back to her, starting the the first call, one week after she went out and four days after the baby was born. When they did get back to her, during week five of the six-week program, they gave her exactly one week to do all the work, with the exception of one teacher who had given her work before she went out on leave. One teacher, who shall remain nameless, never did get back to her....she hopes she gets an A in his class because she believes she did exemplary work.... most babies fall asleep to lullabies, while one little guy can fall asleep to the comforting sound of a bass clarinet?!? And nobody came to our home....just in case you were wondering.
Oh, my crowning accomplishment of the week was sewing a "Hooter Hider" for $4, in 40 minutes. These fine inventions are covers that go around a nursing mother's head so that she can hide her.....breasts....when she feeds. The ones for purchase are at least $40 and are made from the worlds most gaudy material. My daughter wanted one, but she preferred not to have the material that pretty much points out in large Hawaiian flowers that one is bare-breasted under the large expanse of material. I cut it down, used a nice soft, solid color, and all is well. Geesh.....
But, I do not have to Skype. This morning, my nine year old beagle had a seizure in my bed and had an accident. This does not happen often, and actually, it is much more scary than annoying for me. And, thankfully, I gently guided her to the backdoor before the mess got too bad. But, then, to top it off, my five week old Grandson did his own impression of a backyard sprinkler....also on my bed. And, to top off his impression, he acquired a new bit of behavior this week. He giggled. Yes, we have another comedian in the family now. I texted my daughter, who was at the dentist being "crowned," and informed her that both her dog and her baby were leaky. She giggled too. Today, we washed sheets.
Gas is a popular subject at our house. We talk about if he needs to burp, how many times he burped, and how amazing it is that someone so little can "fluff" so loudly and with so much gusto. We are certain that he is going to explode at times. He giggles.
Tomorrow I get to babysit while my daughter trots off to her new job. She is going to be trained to fill in for any number of positions at a local hotel, so that she can fill in for vacations, no shows, or full occupancy. She will do everything from the front desk to housekeeping. It should be interesting. It is not her ideal occupation, but she does recognize that money is an essential thing that she needs to be making. She is also a lifeguard, but for some reason that she is not sure of, she is not getting any hours to lifeguard. She believes that she was a victim of discrimination - based on the fact that she has a baby. I am not sure that discrimination is the right word, but rather she may be the victim of a situation that is new, and therefore being avoided by management. Even though, the truth of the matter is that her having a baby should not affect her work at all. Oh well. We pick our battles in this world.
School is over, and summer is here. I wish I could write a long review that praises our school system for it's fine management of a six-week home bound program that is mandatory for public school students who need it for medical reasons, but unfortunately, if I wrote a long review, it would not be filled with much praise. My daughter did her part by contacting the school on SIX occasions before they got back to her, starting the the first call, one week after she went out and four days after the baby was born. When they did get back to her, during week five of the six-week program, they gave her exactly one week to do all the work, with the exception of one teacher who had given her work before she went out on leave. One teacher, who shall remain nameless, never did get back to her....she hopes she gets an A in his class because she believes she did exemplary work.... most babies fall asleep to lullabies, while one little guy can fall asleep to the comforting sound of a bass clarinet?!? And nobody came to our home....just in case you were wondering.
Oh, my crowning accomplishment of the week was sewing a "Hooter Hider" for $4, in 40 minutes. These fine inventions are covers that go around a nursing mother's head so that she can hide her.....breasts....when she feeds. The ones for purchase are at least $40 and are made from the worlds most gaudy material. My daughter wanted one, but she preferred not to have the material that pretty much points out in large Hawaiian flowers that one is bare-breasted under the large expanse of material. I cut it down, used a nice soft, solid color, and all is well. Geesh.....
Thursday, May 26, 2011
It is a Double Cheeseburger, with Cheese, Please
Okay. It occurred to me in the last week that there is a lot of layers of generations hanging around at my house. It takes the term "sandwich generation" to a whole new level. Now, mind you, my mother is not old, in terms of old, and she is certainly capable of doing most everything on her own, and to say that she is independent would be the understatement of the century, however, she still needs me. She does not like to admit it, but she does. And, I need her too - accept I admit it. Openly.
And, someday I plan to be there for her when she needs me more. Which will happen.
Then there is my teen-aged mother of a daughter. She amazes me on a constant basis with her independence and capability as a parent, but the being a teenager part is still a work in progress. I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but it is true. The part of her that had to grow up in order to face the terrific challenge placed inside of her, did grow up. However, the part of her that is a 17 year old, officially SENIOR in high school, is still just that...a 17 year old, freshly minted, in-coming SENIOR in high school. She can sit down, nurse her baby, give him a bath, change his diaper, diagnose any cry he has, and bark parenting orders like a true professional. Then, she can run out the door and be as goofy as any teenager out there. It is pretty amazing, and almost confusing to watch...and I am not the one living it. However, I am the one who has to parent this confusing creature, and it is a trip.
I am the one that is encouraging her to show her inner teenager - I mean I know that she has a baby, but I am not ready for my baby to grow up, and I am definitely not encouraging her to skip straight to adulthood. It is almost like that decision that many parents have to make about sending their child to Kindergarten, except, I have had to decide if I am going to assist her in maturing naturally, with a non-traditional twist, or if I am going to put coals under her and force her into adulthood, where she will undoubtedly fail for a long time before she succeeds.
I think I got caught in the trap of thinking that just because she made a very impulsive decision that landed her with a lifetime of commitment, I had to put her through the "Rush to Adulthood Boot Camp." Our society, for better or worse, puts young mothers into this, and it is almost expected. But, I propose that this may be why there is such an issue with young mothers who abuse their children, turn to abusive relationships, either with men or with drugs and alcohol, or simply stay on welfare for their entire lives. Just like the five year old who may not be ready for Kindergarten, I have come to the conclusion that my 17 year old is not ready to be an adult. So, what does one do about that? I guess one sits at the parenting steering wheel and just holds on tight to the fact that this is going to be an interesting ride...
Baby amazes me every day. He gained a pound again this week. He is a sack of sugar and a bag of M & M's...all sweet, all the time.
And, someday I plan to be there for her when she needs me more. Which will happen.
Then there is my teen-aged mother of a daughter. She amazes me on a constant basis with her independence and capability as a parent, but the being a teenager part is still a work in progress. I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but it is true. The part of her that had to grow up in order to face the terrific challenge placed inside of her, did grow up. However, the part of her that is a 17 year old, officially SENIOR in high school, is still just that...a 17 year old, freshly minted, in-coming SENIOR in high school. She can sit down, nurse her baby, give him a bath, change his diaper, diagnose any cry he has, and bark parenting orders like a true professional. Then, she can run out the door and be as goofy as any teenager out there. It is pretty amazing, and almost confusing to watch...and I am not the one living it. However, I am the one who has to parent this confusing creature, and it is a trip.
I am the one that is encouraging her to show her inner teenager - I mean I know that she has a baby, but I am not ready for my baby to grow up, and I am definitely not encouraging her to skip straight to adulthood. It is almost like that decision that many parents have to make about sending their child to Kindergarten, except, I have had to decide if I am going to assist her in maturing naturally, with a non-traditional twist, or if I am going to put coals under her and force her into adulthood, where she will undoubtedly fail for a long time before she succeeds.
I think I got caught in the trap of thinking that just because she made a very impulsive decision that landed her with a lifetime of commitment, I had to put her through the "Rush to Adulthood Boot Camp." Our society, for better or worse, puts young mothers into this, and it is almost expected. But, I propose that this may be why there is such an issue with young mothers who abuse their children, turn to abusive relationships, either with men or with drugs and alcohol, or simply stay on welfare for their entire lives. Just like the five year old who may not be ready for Kindergarten, I have come to the conclusion that my 17 year old is not ready to be an adult. So, what does one do about that? I guess one sits at the parenting steering wheel and just holds on tight to the fact that this is going to be an interesting ride...
Baby amazes me every day. He gained a pound again this week. He is a sack of sugar and a bag of M & M's...all sweet, all the time.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Pampers and Pumps....
My best friends all told me that this would happen, and quite frankly, I did not believe it. But, it is true and I am here to say that I cannot imagine one minute of the rest of my life without this little boy in it, and I can also very honestly tell you that I am so thankful and grateful for the time I have been given to watch his every move. I am one lucky woman.
My daughter has taken to motherhood like no other. She surprises me every day with her maturity, and complete dedication to her child. She is not afraid to tackle the motherly duties, and she does not shy away from anything. I am overwhelmed with pride and amazement - especially considering that until he was born she had never changed diaper, or fed a baby a bottle, or even watched someone give a baby a bath. She could now give lectures on the joys of nursing and the power of pumping....bless her little heart.
Baby Braden is gaining about a pound a week, and Mommy is taking off about 3 pounds per week. Both Mommy and Baby are very happy with their progress.
To say that our household has changed would be the understatement of the century. My pre-baby obsession with the house has had to take a back seat to constant washing of breast pump supplies, baby clothes and diaper genie maintenance. We have to jockey around the swing and bouncy seat, which are fan favorites, and the cradle, which is slowly becoming obsolete, as our little bundle has decided at 3 and 1/2 weeks old that he can roll over....time for the big boy crib (and yes, Grandma is convinced that he is gifted...lol).
He looks more and more like his Mommy everyday, which is such a fun and touching thing for me. I can only imagine that I am looking into the face of my infant daughter every time he gives me that smile (which is NOT gas....) and he looks at me with that turned up little nose, that square little face and those deep blue gray eyes. and the dirty blond hair that sticks straight up....
Oh, and did I mention that he has my chins....????
My daughter has taken to motherhood like no other. She surprises me every day with her maturity, and complete dedication to her child. She is not afraid to tackle the motherly duties, and she does not shy away from anything. I am overwhelmed with pride and amazement - especially considering that until he was born she had never changed diaper, or fed a baby a bottle, or even watched someone give a baby a bath. She could now give lectures on the joys of nursing and the power of pumping....bless her little heart.
Baby Braden is gaining about a pound a week, and Mommy is taking off about 3 pounds per week. Both Mommy and Baby are very happy with their progress.
To say that our household has changed would be the understatement of the century. My pre-baby obsession with the house has had to take a back seat to constant washing of breast pump supplies, baby clothes and diaper genie maintenance. We have to jockey around the swing and bouncy seat, which are fan favorites, and the cradle, which is slowly becoming obsolete, as our little bundle has decided at 3 and 1/2 weeks old that he can roll over....time for the big boy crib (and yes, Grandma is convinced that he is gifted...lol).
He looks more and more like his Mommy everyday, which is such a fun and touching thing for me. I can only imagine that I am looking into the face of my infant daughter every time he gives me that smile (which is NOT gas....) and he looks at me with that turned up little nose, that square little face and those deep blue gray eyes. and the dirty blond hair that sticks straight up....
Oh, and did I mention that he has my chins....????
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Braden James, Child of God
It started on Tuesday at 10:00 pm and ended at 5:28 p.m. on Friday...and it was worth every minute. Our Braden James was born into the world at 5:28 p.m. and he flutter kicked himself all of the way out! He was 6 lbs 8 oz and he is 19 inches long. And, I believe that to look into his face is looking into the face of an infant that I never got to see until now....his Mother. He has her square little face, her turned up nose, the worry line on the right side of her brow, his disproportionately large feet and tiny little chubby toes are just like his Mommy's, along with his ears - where every part is just like hers, all the way down to the tiny little earlobes and little crook a the top of her ear. And he has her soft, brown hair, and the start of her long eye lashes....AND...the one thing that he did NOT have was the cleft in his palate....Thank Goodness!
He does have a darling little cleft chin...a gift from his Daddy.
Letting go of my little girl and acknowledging the fact that she is...and has to be a young woman...has been extraordinarily difficult. I have grown to know that I have not had to give up on
my dreams for her, but instead I have had to arrange and actually ADD to them. But I was not and am not ready to have her grow into adulthood. it is overwhelming to me to acknowledge this forced maturity...I am so proud of her and so completely sad about the fact that she is growing up so fast. It is the most turbulent set of emotions I have ever experienced.
I have to say that another trait that Braden and his mother share is that male role-models will be imperative. Braden will need to follow in his mother's footsteps and watch the important men in his life show him how to grow up to be a fine, faithful and productive member of his society. He will need to watch these men who have been so good about showing his Mommy about responsibility, integrity, education, and most-importantly, faith. He will need to learn to accept the fact that things are not always the way they are in story books, but families come in all shapes and sizes.
I have had one of the absolute best times of my life and one of the absolutely most terrifying experiences of my life. I have learned what unconditional and immediate love looks like when it is being observed in it's purest level. I have been as proud of my daughter as I have ever been and I have seen with my own eyes what it is like when someone is trying to do the right thing, when they are not sure that they really want too.
I also know what it is like to go for six days with only six hours of sleep. Therefore, I am going to bed.
More later.
Welcome to the world my precious Grandson. AND......WELCOME HOME!!!
He does have a darling little cleft chin...a gift from his Daddy.
Letting go of my little girl and acknowledging the fact that she is...and has to be a young woman...has been extraordinarily difficult. I have grown to know that I have not had to give up on
my dreams for her, but instead I have had to arrange and actually ADD to them. But I was not and am not ready to have her grow into adulthood. it is overwhelming to me to acknowledge this forced maturity...I am so proud of her and so completely sad about the fact that she is growing up so fast. It is the most turbulent set of emotions I have ever experienced.
I have to say that another trait that Braden and his mother share is that male role-models will be imperative. Braden will need to follow in his mother's footsteps and watch the important men in his life show him how to grow up to be a fine, faithful and productive member of his society. He will need to watch these men who have been so good about showing his Mommy about responsibility, integrity, education, and most-importantly, faith. He will need to learn to accept the fact that things are not always the way they are in story books, but families come in all shapes and sizes.
I have had one of the absolute best times of my life and one of the absolutely most terrifying experiences of my life. I have learned what unconditional and immediate love looks like when it is being observed in it's purest level. I have been as proud of my daughter as I have ever been and I have seen with my own eyes what it is like when someone is trying to do the right thing, when they are not sure that they really want too.
I also know what it is like to go for six days with only six hours of sleep. Therefore, I am going to bed.
More later.
Welcome to the world my precious Grandson. AND......WELCOME HOME!!!
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
The Spin Cycle?
I found my daughter sitting on the washer during the spin cycle. She said that she read on the Internet that this simulated a bumpy ride and she was interested in getting the labor show on the road....I offered to put a load of shoes in.....
She will be 39 weeks on Thursday. To say that she is anxious would be the understatement of the century. We are ready for this baby. We are VERY ready for this baby. I do know that he will come when he is ready, but can't he be ready?
So, we continue the wait.
Today my daughter went to the hospital to visit a friend who had a baby yesterday. She held him and tried to feed him. It was the very first time she had ever held a small baby, or tried to give a baby a bottle. She came home in absolute awe of the experience, but for the very first time, and believe me when I say this, for the very first time, she was scared. She is so brave and unafraid of everything that is put before her, but the experience humbled her.
But, she was ready, and excited for the challenge.
We will be alright Braden. Let's get the show on the road. I think I will go do some laundry......
She will be 39 weeks on Thursday. To say that she is anxious would be the understatement of the century. We are ready for this baby. We are VERY ready for this baby. I do know that he will come when he is ready, but can't he be ready?
So, we continue the wait.
Today my daughter went to the hospital to visit a friend who had a baby yesterday. She held him and tried to feed him. It was the very first time she had ever held a small baby, or tried to give a baby a bottle. She came home in absolute awe of the experience, but for the very first time, and believe me when I say this, for the very first time, she was scared. She is so brave and unafraid of everything that is put before her, but the experience humbled her.
But, she was ready, and excited for the challenge.
We will be alright Braden. Let's get the show on the road. I think I will go do some laundry......
Sunday, April 10, 2011
The Grandma has quit nesting. Now the Grandma is very AWAKE!
I think that the compulsive need to clean has passed. I am settled in our new, improved, digs and I besides the long-standing urge to do laundry, I am actually able to settle down a bit at this point....yes, I realize that this is the calm before the storm. At any rate, anyone who knows me well knows that when I am nervous, I do laundry. I don't know if it is because it is some kind of instant gratification, or if folding clothes settles me, but I love it. My daughter has to sometimes remind me that she actually needs to wear the clothes before I wash them...
But, with the calm has come the total inability to sleep. Now, mind you, I have never been a very good sleeper. If I get between 5 - 6 hours per night, it is a good night, but 2 - 3 is ridiculous. I have read every entertainment magazine published in the last six months, and I can give really good advise on how to get out most any stain. I know that there are old episodes of almost every sitcom on in the middle of the night, and I also know that the systems at my work is very fast in the middle of the night and one can really download a lot of reports at about 4 am. My daughter gets up about every 45 minutes to go to the bathroom and she actually seldom wakes for these events. She has always been a sleepwalker, so I supposed that I should not be surprised by this.
I know that I could get some assistance with my sleep, but until things happen around here, I do feel that I should be coherent at all times. I am thinking that a groggy labor coach would be a little scary...
I also know that I will probably not sleep afterwards either, but believe-it-or-not, I think that I will be able to sleep better when he is finally here and the whole labor thing is over.
I do realize that it must be very difficult for a man to watch his wife, or for a partner to watch their partner have a baby, but I also believe that when one is set up to be the primary support person for their own daughter, it is a totally different thing entirely. The absolute love of my life, for whom I would take a bullet or jump in front of a train for is going to be doing something very painful that I cannot save her from. The ultimate role of a parent is to protect and I am not able to protect her from this.
I know that it is going to be a great outcome, but the getting there is going to be quite a ride. But, ready or not, it is going to happen.....
But, with the calm has come the total inability to sleep. Now, mind you, I have never been a very good sleeper. If I get between 5 - 6 hours per night, it is a good night, but 2 - 3 is ridiculous. I have read every entertainment magazine published in the last six months, and I can give really good advise on how to get out most any stain. I know that there are old episodes of almost every sitcom on in the middle of the night, and I also know that the systems at my work is very fast in the middle of the night and one can really download a lot of reports at about 4 am. My daughter gets up about every 45 minutes to go to the bathroom and she actually seldom wakes for these events. She has always been a sleepwalker, so I supposed that I should not be surprised by this.
I know that I could get some assistance with my sleep, but until things happen around here, I do feel that I should be coherent at all times. I am thinking that a groggy labor coach would be a little scary...
I also know that I will probably not sleep afterwards either, but believe-it-or-not, I think that I will be able to sleep better when he is finally here and the whole labor thing is over.
I do realize that it must be very difficult for a man to watch his wife, or for a partner to watch their partner have a baby, but I also believe that when one is set up to be the primary support person for their own daughter, it is a totally different thing entirely. The absolute love of my life, for whom I would take a bullet or jump in front of a train for is going to be doing something very painful that I cannot save her from. The ultimate role of a parent is to protect and I am not able to protect her from this.
I know that it is going to be a great outcome, but the getting there is going to be quite a ride. But, ready or not, it is going to happen.....
Friday, April 8, 2011
Centimeters? Good thing we did that metric system thing in 5th grade!
In 5th grade, we measured a kilometer by using a meter long stick and chalk, from the Junior High to the High School in the little Iowa town of my youth. It was a slow day for education, I guess. But, I am SO THANKFUL for that education now, because they measure the cervix in centimeters....I am convinced it is because they believe that if people are not as familiar with the measurement, they may not be as freaked out about it. But.....I am here to tell you that if they measured it in something very familiar, like the circumference of a Snickers bar, or an Oreo cookie, I would be equally as freaked....just saying.
My daughter is now almost 2 centimeters dilated. She was a "fingertip" last week. So, it is growing, or else you have big fingers, then I guess it is just a matter of opinion.
She had her very first contractions on Monday and if it is any indication of how full-blown labor is going be...it could be interesting. She developed a severe headache and got sick to her stomach.....for a bit we thought it may be the "real thing," but then it went away, almost as quickly as it came....
My daughter is a very active person and there is no slowing her down at this point either, even though, I am convinced that for the first time in her whole life, I may be able to at least compete with her in a foot race. She did take the dogs to their park today, and tried to play a few holes of frisbee golf.....she said that was less than a successful endeavor. It is hard on her not to be able to exercise the way she is used to exercising.
We made our last trip to Target today. I do not think there is anything else we could possibly need. Today, we finished off with a mobile and some plain white onsies - so as to compliment the plethora of colorful tops and sweaters....the teenager in her comes out once in awhile, especially when she talks baby wardrobe....he will be well-dressed, and bless him if he is not coordinated. I keep reminding her that everything should compliment the color of baby doo. She does not think I am funny.
Have I mentioned that my daughter has NEVER changed a diaper? Nor has she EVER held a baby that was less than about three months old. I know that she is a quick learner and she will do fine, but I am actually looking forward to being in the front row for all of these firsts....I will have my own set of firsts, but I have had the honor of holding and caring for very young infants, and I have changed plenty of diapers in my time. I could put a big shout out to my cousins Monica, and especially Charlie, for giving me this precious experience from an early age. I have always loved babies and I was "the babysitter" for many children....my daughter has never babysat anyone less than school-aged. This is going to be interesting....
We are ready. We are waiting.....the clock is ticking.....anytime after next Wednesday would be fine....come out and play Braden!
My daughter is now almost 2 centimeters dilated. She was a "fingertip" last week. So, it is growing, or else you have big fingers, then I guess it is just a matter of opinion.
She had her very first contractions on Monday and if it is any indication of how full-blown labor is going be...it could be interesting. She developed a severe headache and got sick to her stomach.....for a bit we thought it may be the "real thing," but then it went away, almost as quickly as it came....
My daughter is a very active person and there is no slowing her down at this point either, even though, I am convinced that for the first time in her whole life, I may be able to at least compete with her in a foot race. She did take the dogs to their park today, and tried to play a few holes of frisbee golf.....she said that was less than a successful endeavor. It is hard on her not to be able to exercise the way she is used to exercising.
We made our last trip to Target today. I do not think there is anything else we could possibly need. Today, we finished off with a mobile and some plain white onsies - so as to compliment the plethora of colorful tops and sweaters....the teenager in her comes out once in awhile, especially when she talks baby wardrobe....he will be well-dressed, and bless him if he is not coordinated. I keep reminding her that everything should compliment the color of baby doo. She does not think I am funny.
Have I mentioned that my daughter has NEVER changed a diaper? Nor has she EVER held a baby that was less than about three months old. I know that she is a quick learner and she will do fine, but I am actually looking forward to being in the front row for all of these firsts....I will have my own set of firsts, but I have had the honor of holding and caring for very young infants, and I have changed plenty of diapers in my time. I could put a big shout out to my cousins Monica, and especially Charlie, for giving me this precious experience from an early age. I have always loved babies and I was "the babysitter" for many children....my daughter has never babysat anyone less than school-aged. This is going to be interesting....
We are ready. We are waiting.....the clock is ticking.....anytime after next Wednesday would be fine....come out and play Braden!
Friday, April 1, 2011
Did you say DIALATED?
Today marks 36 weeks and one day of pregnancy. That is nine months. Yes, that is nine months. We now go to the doctor weekly. The OB/GYN politely suggested that we should have the crib up and the car seats installed. She also mentioned camera batteries, and a packed suitcase.
I should have mentioned medication...not so much for my daughter, but for me. I am thinking that when they give my daughter the epidural, I will ask for one too - right between the eyes.
For those of you who have gone through this before, you will know this, but since we are both rookies at all of this, humor me. Today, she had to get "checked." This will happen weekly now. And since the baby has started "swimming towards the light" in the last week and he has moved from cutting off her oxygen by residing in her lungs to now bouncing on her bladder, the doctor was "curious" about the progress.
Our OB/GYN is a wonderful woman, be it very young. She is a recent graduate, local woman, who is very professional, interested, patient and the perfect fit for my daughter. But, she is young. My daughter loves her and trusts her and that is all that matters, but honestly, sometimes she makes me giggle.
I think she is a bit afraid that I am going to freak out on her or something....she tries to be very calm about everything she says, in kind of a not-so-calm way. For example, today when she checked my daughter, she seemed kind of surprised to discover that there was some change to her cervix. She got this funny look on her face and said, very quietly.... "OOOOOOH. I felt his head." Then she said, "things HAVE changed and that is a GOOD thing...........are you ready? Do you have a car seat?" After I restarted my heart, I kind of said, "we are ready, I guess, but we would like to not have it be until about the 15th....that would be good.....to which my daughter interjected, "anytime after the 12th....." The doctor just nodded and said, "I would like the 21st, but we don't always get what we ask for. What are you doing next week....I hope she makes it to her shower (HER SHOWER IS SUNDAY).
So, the saga is in process. And at the end of the day, we have another appointment in one week. And we sure hope we are there, for you see my daughter has a college entrance exam on the 11th - so she can use the post-secondary option all of next year....and she has to take her math MCA on the 12th.
SO....A conversation with Braden:
Baby Braden, this is Grandma.....We cannot wait to meet you, but the doctor said that you were probably only about 4 and 1/2 lbs today and we need you to grow for a couple more weeks. Mommy needs to finish just a couple of things, then she will be ready for you. You have been SO GOOD so far but please, remember that GRANDMA is a very patient person, unlike your MOMMY, so you need to listen to GRANDMA in this situation. The sooner you learn that the better. THANKS BRADEN and I LOVE YOU....no matter when you come....but patience is a virtue and it is still kinda cold outside anyway, so you will be much warmer in there.
I should have mentioned medication...not so much for my daughter, but for me. I am thinking that when they give my daughter the epidural, I will ask for one too - right between the eyes.
For those of you who have gone through this before, you will know this, but since we are both rookies at all of this, humor me. Today, she had to get "checked." This will happen weekly now. And since the baby has started "swimming towards the light" in the last week and he has moved from cutting off her oxygen by residing in her lungs to now bouncing on her bladder, the doctor was "curious" about the progress.
Our OB/GYN is a wonderful woman, be it very young. She is a recent graduate, local woman, who is very professional, interested, patient and the perfect fit for my daughter. But, she is young. My daughter loves her and trusts her and that is all that matters, but honestly, sometimes she makes me giggle.
I think she is a bit afraid that I am going to freak out on her or something....she tries to be very calm about everything she says, in kind of a not-so-calm way. For example, today when she checked my daughter, she seemed kind of surprised to discover that there was some change to her cervix. She got this funny look on her face and said, very quietly.... "OOOOOOH. I felt his head." Then she said, "things HAVE changed and that is a GOOD thing...........are you ready? Do you have a car seat?" After I restarted my heart, I kind of said, "we are ready, I guess, but we would like to not have it be until about the 15th....that would be good.....to which my daughter interjected, "anytime after the 12th....." The doctor just nodded and said, "I would like the 21st, but we don't always get what we ask for. What are you doing next week....I hope she makes it to her shower (HER SHOWER IS SUNDAY).
So, the saga is in process. And at the end of the day, we have another appointment in one week. And we sure hope we are there, for you see my daughter has a college entrance exam on the 11th - so she can use the post-secondary option all of next year....and she has to take her math MCA on the 12th.
SO....A conversation with Braden:
Baby Braden, this is Grandma.....We cannot wait to meet you, but the doctor said that you were probably only about 4 and 1/2 lbs today and we need you to grow for a couple more weeks. Mommy needs to finish just a couple of things, then she will be ready for you. You have been SO GOOD so far but please, remember that GRANDMA is a very patient person, unlike your MOMMY, so you need to listen to GRANDMA in this situation. The sooner you learn that the better. THANKS BRADEN and I LOVE YOU....no matter when you come....but patience is a virtue and it is still kinda cold outside anyway, so you will be much warmer in there.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Read the Directions Before Assembling the Pack n Play
Our house resembles an infant daycare. It is astounding to me that one 8 lb. child needs so much equipment. Well, maybe I should qualify that....maybe it is not so much need, as want....or maybe it is a combination of both. At any rate, having adopted my bundle at the age of 2 did not bring on things like swings and Pack n Plays and changing tables....oh my!
My daughter and I have successfully read a lot of directions and used our brand new, handy-dandy electric screwdriver many times and in many ways. As a team, we work well together. I am convinced that this equipment comes in several small pieces as a practice for parenthood. If the caregivers can successfully maneuver the directions that are written in five different languages, come out even on all of the screws and bolts, and snap the sides of the pack n play before they push down on the bottom, they may have some success at 2 am when the baby decides to clear out his lungs for no apparent reason....
We shall see.
Baby time is coming soon. The baby shower is this weekend, and my fun and entertainment for Saturday surrounds installing three car seat bases in three different models of cars.
Pray for me.
My daughter and I have successfully read a lot of directions and used our brand new, handy-dandy electric screwdriver many times and in many ways. As a team, we work well together. I am convinced that this equipment comes in several small pieces as a practice for parenthood. If the caregivers can successfully maneuver the directions that are written in five different languages, come out even on all of the screws and bolts, and snap the sides of the pack n play before they push down on the bottom, they may have some success at 2 am when the baby decides to clear out his lungs for no apparent reason....
We shall see.
Baby time is coming soon. The baby shower is this weekend, and my fun and entertainment for Saturday surrounds installing three car seat bases in three different models of cars.
Pray for me.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Want to see the crib in my crib?
There is a crib in our crib. We have successfully constructed a crib, put together a swing, found sufficient storage for diapers, and decided how and where we are going to bathe this little boy, feed this little boy, and change this little boy's diaper. My daughter's belly is growing at a fast rate of speed as this little guy is really making his appearance known. It is starting to look like a nursery around here, and the dogs are sufficiently confused.
There have been some "owies" lately and reality is hitting hard for my daughter, I fear.
She is starting to realize that her life is never going to be the same. But, at the same time she is truly excited about what is to come.
I am planning on letting her make her own decisions about how "normal" she is going to be. However, I am adamant about the fact that she is going to have some "Senior Year" memories. I want her to have the opportunity to be a 18 year old senior - senior girls overnight, senior skip day, swimming, and fast pitch. She is smart enough and has her academic act together enough to be able to be a good Mom and have a memorable senior year. I will support her through this. I do not want her to have any regrets - a baby should not be a regret.
As a family, we will get through this and bring her and her child out on the other side. I am committed to setting her up to be able to raise this child as a single parent, if that is the will - and in order to give her son a life that he deserves, she needs to obtain a career that involves post-high school education - college has always been the goal and continues to be the goal.
We just have someone else along for the ride.
There have been some "owies" lately and reality is hitting hard for my daughter, I fear.
- The band went on tour without her - she could have gone, but 20+ hours on a bus would not have been too comfortable for her at this point - and she may have taken up more than her allotted time in the bathroom. She worked for this trip and looked forward to it for three years - it was the first of many things that will change for her now. She handled it maturely and I was proud of her for that.
- Prom night is on the night she is due to give birth. Needless to say, she will not be attending.
- And, the biggest hit for her thus far....fast pitch started last Monday. The start of the fast pitch season was hard on her. She has plans to go to every home game she can and to help out when she can, and she is still planning on getting back into shape by playing summer ball.
She is starting to realize that her life is never going to be the same. But, at the same time she is truly excited about what is to come.
I am planning on letting her make her own decisions about how "normal" she is going to be. However, I am adamant about the fact that she is going to have some "Senior Year" memories. I want her to have the opportunity to be a 18 year old senior - senior girls overnight, senior skip day, swimming, and fast pitch. She is smart enough and has her academic act together enough to be able to be a good Mom and have a memorable senior year. I will support her through this. I do not want her to have any regrets - a baby should not be a regret.
As a family, we will get through this and bring her and her child out on the other side. I am committed to setting her up to be able to raise this child as a single parent, if that is the will - and in order to give her son a life that he deserves, she needs to obtain a career that involves post-high school education - college has always been the goal and continues to be the goal.
We just have someone else along for the ride.
What a week...What a time....
Last week was quite the week. The week surrounding March 17, and in fact this time of year, is always bittersweet for me. And this year, it seems that every normal emotion is magnified by about 10 - so it is quite the ride at times.
I am finally coming to the end of a major home overhaul. The whole process of going through the house, one drawer and one closet at a time, and moving out the old in preparation for the new has been exhausting, very rewarding, but surprisingly, quite emotional. I have watched those "Hoarder" shows on TV, and even though that was never my problem, I did always wonder how people could get so emotional about getting rid of what was obviously, at least to me and most viewers, complete and total junk. However, in the process of getting rid of many bags of garbage and/or Salvation Army items, I did figure out that my junk was sometimes special to me...junk, but special junk, none-the-less. However, unlike the people on the shows, I was able to move the special junk out the door at quite the rate of speed...I mean really, enough is enough. And, my special junk will look better in somebody else's house, or even on top of a shiny pile at the landfill.
In the midst of carpet replacement, carpet cleaning, laminate installation, and painting almost the entire house, I kept thinking about my Dad. For you see, seven years ago, last Thursday, March 17 - St. Patrick's Day - he left my world and left me with a permanent hole in my soul that will never completely fill.
Dad was the calm in the midst of the storm. The last time I did a major renovation on my house, he took on the role of "contractor." He dealt with the carpenter and the electrician and he hauled in dry wall with my very ambitious 8 year old - I will always remember when I called him in tears because I could not figure out how to get the linoleum to fit under the toilet and he came over and laid on my tiny bathroom floor and helped me. He truly enjoyed being a Dad - even when his youngest child was a whiny 38 year old....
I think about him often these days. I wonder how he would have dealt with my daughter and the pending baby. I long for his calm demeanor and sound advise. I yearn for his unyielding faith - something that I really could have used at times during all of this. My daughter and my Dad had a very special relationship. He no-doubt would have been disappointed by all of this, but he also, no-doubt, would have stood behind her for support. He would have given everything he had for all of his Grandchildren, and that I am certain of. He did give everything he had for his children - that I know.
March 17 is also the anniversary of the first time I ever met my daughter. This year it was the 15th anniversary. It serves as a reminder that life is truly a circle. The best thing that ever happened to me and the worst thing that ever happened to me, so far, all happened on March 17.
In the midst of preparing our house, and ourselves for the adventure that lies before us, I remind myself of that day 15 years ago... I walked up these dingy stairs, and down this brutally long hall and into a waiting area. The caretaker at the orphanage opened a door and there were 20 little children - the girls in wool plaid dresses and tights, and the boys in tights and jumpers, sitting at little tables, eating coffee and yogurt out of tin enamel cups with little pieces of toast. There were about six tables of toddlers, and halfway across the room I spotted her. She had this starkly cut blond hair and the biggest, grayest, eyes with the longest eyelashes I had ever seen. She was trying to get all of the yogurt out of that cup, and she was trying hard to eat that hard piece of toast. She was terrified and expressionless - but she was mine....somehow, she almost instantly knew that things were never going be the same again...we had finally found each other and we were a family.
I am finally coming to the end of a major home overhaul. The whole process of going through the house, one drawer and one closet at a time, and moving out the old in preparation for the new has been exhausting, very rewarding, but surprisingly, quite emotional. I have watched those "Hoarder" shows on TV, and even though that was never my problem, I did always wonder how people could get so emotional about getting rid of what was obviously, at least to me and most viewers, complete and total junk. However, in the process of getting rid of many bags of garbage and/or Salvation Army items, I did figure out that my junk was sometimes special to me...junk, but special junk, none-the-less. However, unlike the people on the shows, I was able to move the special junk out the door at quite the rate of speed...I mean really, enough is enough. And, my special junk will look better in somebody else's house, or even on top of a shiny pile at the landfill.
In the midst of carpet replacement, carpet cleaning, laminate installation, and painting almost the entire house, I kept thinking about my Dad. For you see, seven years ago, last Thursday, March 17 - St. Patrick's Day - he left my world and left me with a permanent hole in my soul that will never completely fill.
Dad was the calm in the midst of the storm. The last time I did a major renovation on my house, he took on the role of "contractor." He dealt with the carpenter and the electrician and he hauled in dry wall with my very ambitious 8 year old - I will always remember when I called him in tears because I could not figure out how to get the linoleum to fit under the toilet and he came over and laid on my tiny bathroom floor and helped me. He truly enjoyed being a Dad - even when his youngest child was a whiny 38 year old....
I think about him often these days. I wonder how he would have dealt with my daughter and the pending baby. I long for his calm demeanor and sound advise. I yearn for his unyielding faith - something that I really could have used at times during all of this. My daughter and my Dad had a very special relationship. He no-doubt would have been disappointed by all of this, but he also, no-doubt, would have stood behind her for support. He would have given everything he had for all of his Grandchildren, and that I am certain of. He did give everything he had for his children - that I know.
March 17 is also the anniversary of the first time I ever met my daughter. This year it was the 15th anniversary. It serves as a reminder that life is truly a circle. The best thing that ever happened to me and the worst thing that ever happened to me, so far, all happened on March 17.
In the midst of preparing our house, and ourselves for the adventure that lies before us, I remind myself of that day 15 years ago... I walked up these dingy stairs, and down this brutally long hall and into a waiting area. The caretaker at the orphanage opened a door and there were 20 little children - the girls in wool plaid dresses and tights, and the boys in tights and jumpers, sitting at little tables, eating coffee and yogurt out of tin enamel cups with little pieces of toast. There were about six tables of toddlers, and halfway across the room I spotted her. She had this starkly cut blond hair and the biggest, grayest, eyes with the longest eyelashes I had ever seen. She was trying to get all of the yogurt out of that cup, and she was trying hard to eat that hard piece of toast. She was terrified and expressionless - but she was mine....somehow, she almost instantly knew that things were never going be the same again...we had finally found each other and we were a family.
Monday, March 14, 2011
There is a reason why I adopted a child.
The truth is that I always wanted to have a biological child. I would say that it was one of my Top 5 Life Goals when I was younger. I wanted to be pregnant and experience childbirth. But, if I was going to do that, then I wanted to do it with my husband. Having a biological child, for me, was not going to happen without a husband. Go figure.
My Number One Life Goal is not a secret. I wanted a child. I decided when I was about 18 years old that if I was not married by age 30, I would adopt a child. I put the adoption papers into the mailbox at the Post Office in Greeley, CO on August 13, 1994 - my 30th birthday. Crazy.
By the time I went through the adoption process, I had the privilege of watching a baby be born...one of my clients had a baby when I was a social worker, and I was the birth coach. It is an experience that I am eternally grateful to have had at this point in my life. If I was going into this without having had that experience, I am sure the anxiety would be even more intense than it is already. However, the client was not my daughter, and the absolute center of my life. The thought of watching her be in so much pain is beyond my comprehension...and believe me, I am trying to comprehend it.
As my daughter's belly grows to unbelievable proportions, and as I watch and feel that little guy (who has a name at this point) move around so purposefully and vigorously inside of her, I can feel the anxiety increasing by the second. It is such a mix of sheer excitement and unbridled terror. I am sure that it is as close to what my daughter is going through as I can get without having gone through it myself....
I know that the next seven weeks, give or take, are going to be interesting, to say the least, but I have to say that for the first time ever I am saying with a bit of confidence that we are going to be as ready as possible and the love that is bouncing all over this house will land firmly in that little guy's heart immediately - no doubt about it.
My Number One Life Goal is not a secret. I wanted a child. I decided when I was about 18 years old that if I was not married by age 30, I would adopt a child. I put the adoption papers into the mailbox at the Post Office in Greeley, CO on August 13, 1994 - my 30th birthday. Crazy.
By the time I went through the adoption process, I had the privilege of watching a baby be born...one of my clients had a baby when I was a social worker, and I was the birth coach. It is an experience that I am eternally grateful to have had at this point in my life. If I was going into this without having had that experience, I am sure the anxiety would be even more intense than it is already. However, the client was not my daughter, and the absolute center of my life. The thought of watching her be in so much pain is beyond my comprehension...and believe me, I am trying to comprehend it.
As my daughter's belly grows to unbelievable proportions, and as I watch and feel that little guy (who has a name at this point) move around so purposefully and vigorously inside of her, I can feel the anxiety increasing by the second. It is such a mix of sheer excitement and unbridled terror. I am sure that it is as close to what my daughter is going through as I can get without having gone through it myself....
I know that the next seven weeks, give or take, are going to be interesting, to say the least, but I have to say that for the first time ever I am saying with a bit of confidence that we are going to be as ready as possible and the love that is bouncing all over this house will land firmly in that little guy's heart immediately - no doubt about it.
I know an old lady who lives in a shoe.....
My daughter and I have a cozy two bedroom house. It challenges our organizational skills in a daily-basis. We also have two beagles. The house was stretching it's limits with the four of us...and, with our priorities going toward other "at the moment" items like cars, sports, and various teenager activities, the house was put on the back-burner. I always made a conscious decision to put the house off until my daughter was off to college and I could focus on things that did not seem quite as important at the moment.
Now, the house has become the center of everything we need to do. Our "on the go" lifestyle is going to become more centered again, and in a quick hurry. We are in the midst of finding a place for everything, and everything in its place. We are suddenly doing crazy things like changing out carpet, cleaning carpet, laying new floors, and painting...painting, painting and painting. The garbage man is getting a workout and the Salvation Army could open a separate outlet for our stuff.
It is a very gratifying situation.
I had a gastric by-pass almost three years ago. I lost almost 200 lbs. I still have some weight to lose, but I feel good. Physically, I feel as good, or even better than I have since high school. I have not gained a bunch of weight since all of this went down, and in the past that certainly would have happened.
It is a very gratifying situation.
I have a daughter who was very angry and was just on the brink of true rebellion before all of this happened. We is recognizing that we need each other and she and I have become quite close since all of this occurred. It is ironic to say, and a needlework project may have worked fine for me, but God was aware that we needed a common goal to bring us together. We have a common goal - to do the best by this little boy that we possibly can.
It is a very gratifying situation.
I have a daughter who is recognizing the fact that parenthood is going to be a mind-blowing, on her knees experience that is probably going to be taken on by her alone - as a single-parent. She has made some extremely mature observations about the father of her baby, and she is prepared to to the absolute best for her little boy. She sees a future for her and her son that involves marriage someday - but to someone who is prepared to love her, and her son with every responsible and understanding bone of their body. She wants to make her life better for her and her son. She has realistic goals that involve high school graduation, college, and work.
It is a very gratifying situation.
For the first time in a few years, I am looking forward to having people come into my house. I am proud of our house and I am excited to show off all of our hard work. As with all houses, it is a constant work-in-progress, but we are going to make this little house work for the FIVE of us.
It is a very gratifying situation.
Now, the house has become the center of everything we need to do. Our "on the go" lifestyle is going to become more centered again, and in a quick hurry. We are in the midst of finding a place for everything, and everything in its place. We are suddenly doing crazy things like changing out carpet, cleaning carpet, laying new floors, and painting...painting, painting and painting. The garbage man is getting a workout and the Salvation Army could open a separate outlet for our stuff.
It is a very gratifying situation.
I had a gastric by-pass almost three years ago. I lost almost 200 lbs. I still have some weight to lose, but I feel good. Physically, I feel as good, or even better than I have since high school. I have not gained a bunch of weight since all of this went down, and in the past that certainly would have happened.
It is a very gratifying situation.
I have a daughter who was very angry and was just on the brink of true rebellion before all of this happened. We is recognizing that we need each other and she and I have become quite close since all of this occurred. It is ironic to say, and a needlework project may have worked fine for me, but God was aware that we needed a common goal to bring us together. We have a common goal - to do the best by this little boy that we possibly can.
It is a very gratifying situation.
I have a daughter who is recognizing the fact that parenthood is going to be a mind-blowing, on her knees experience that is probably going to be taken on by her alone - as a single-parent. She has made some extremely mature observations about the father of her baby, and she is prepared to to the absolute best for her little boy. She sees a future for her and her son that involves marriage someday - but to someone who is prepared to love her, and her son with every responsible and understanding bone of their body. She wants to make her life better for her and her son. She has realistic goals that involve high school graduation, college, and work.
It is a very gratifying situation.
For the first time in a few years, I am looking forward to having people come into my house. I am proud of our house and I am excited to show off all of our hard work. As with all houses, it is a constant work-in-progress, but we are going to make this little house work for the FIVE of us.
It is a very gratifying situation.
Monday, February 28, 2011
OH BOY!
My daughter was on the count down to her 21st week of pregnancy. A rite of passage for most expectant mothers...the ultrasound that most likely will show the sex of the baby, if that information is desired. In our case, the information was most definitely desired.
Anyway, the big day arrived, and the three of us ushered into the ultrasound room with much excitement. The ultrasound technician measured the head, and the thigh and then zoomed in the most perfect and large, in comparison to the rest of the baby....foot. It was truly one of the most exciting moments of my life, for at that moment, I truly knew that my daughter was going to give birth to an image of herself. For you see, in comparison to the rest of my small-stature daughter, she has large feet....I could not help but chuckle.
After what my daughter describes as "hours" the technician very casually zoomed in on a certain body part, took a quick still picture and announced that it was a boy. My daughter was thrilled, and the baby daddy did not react. I have to say that I already knew. For you see, I had known, with everything that I had, every since the minute she said she was pregnant. I knew that if God was going to do this to my family, the topping on the whole situation would be a boy. I just knew it was going to be that way.
And, I was absolutely thrilled. All of those years of praying for my Prince Charming, and there he was...who knew? God gifted me with grace that day, and for the first time in a few months...overwhelming and undeniable joy.
Anyway, the big day arrived, and the three of us ushered into the ultrasound room with much excitement. The ultrasound technician measured the head, and the thigh and then zoomed in the most perfect and large, in comparison to the rest of the baby....foot. It was truly one of the most exciting moments of my life, for at that moment, I truly knew that my daughter was going to give birth to an image of herself. For you see, in comparison to the rest of my small-stature daughter, she has large feet....I could not help but chuckle.
After what my daughter describes as "hours" the technician very casually zoomed in on a certain body part, took a quick still picture and announced that it was a boy. My daughter was thrilled, and the baby daddy did not react. I have to say that I already knew. For you see, I had known, with everything that I had, every since the minute she said she was pregnant. I knew that if God was going to do this to my family, the topping on the whole situation would be a boy. I just knew it was going to be that way.
And, I was absolutely thrilled. All of those years of praying for my Prince Charming, and there he was...who knew? God gifted me with grace that day, and for the first time in a few months...overwhelming and undeniable joy.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
I say nothing.
I have to say that all of this as taught me a few things about how to deal with this situation in the future, if someone close to me has it happen to them. As uncomfortable as it is to listen and be there, I will pledge to be there. I will make an effort to reach out to my friend and listen to whatever they have to say. I will not assume that they will call if they need anything - in fact, I will assume that they are so confused, ashamed, embarrassed and upset that as hard as they try to dial the phone, or walk into the house, it just cannot happen. I promise that I will be there, because I have been there....
And, I am not saying that I have not had family members and friends that have done this for me. I have and I do...and my daughter and I are and will be eternally grateful for these people.
It is difficult to know how to react when someone announces that their teen aged daughter is having a baby, but I am here to say that the worst thing that you can say is "I am sorry." Every time someone says that I want to ask them if anyone ever said that to them when they announced that they were pregnant....or when they were telling someone that they were going to be a Grandparent....
Nobody died. A baby is going to be born. For that, nobody should be sorry.
If you don't believe that congratulations are in order, just ask us how our family is doing....
And, I am not saying that I have not had family members and friends that have done this for me. I have and I do...and my daughter and I are and will be eternally grateful for these people.
It is difficult to know how to react when someone announces that their teen aged daughter is having a baby, but I am here to say that the worst thing that you can say is "I am sorry." Every time someone says that I want to ask them if anyone ever said that to them when they announced that they were pregnant....or when they were telling someone that they were going to be a Grandparent....
Nobody died. A baby is going to be born. For that, nobody should be sorry.
If you don't believe that congratulations are in order, just ask us how our family is doing....
Saturday, February 19, 2011
The Battle of the Books.
My mind was a blur. The reality of having your teenager announce a pregnancy is difficult enough, but the unexpected issues are what makes it overwhelming. As I have mentioned - a lot - I am a planner. My daughter's Junior year was supposed to be the year of planning for the future. I had college tours scheduled far and wide. We were going to explore as many options as we could.... Iowa, Wisconsin, North Dakota, and Minnesota. I wanted her to have a plethora of options. The world was her oyster.
Then suddenly it wasn't.
She is not an exceptionally open person. She has a very difficult time opening up - as a parent, I have had to learn to "read" her. Initially, this was difficult because even though she was screaming for me to understand her, I was not at a place to want to understand her. Her first quarter at the mainstream high school did not turn out to be very successful. The fear, confusion and chaos in her life was exacerbated by a nasty upper respiratory infection that grabbed her and held on tight for a whole week - and we had to treat it without the aid of much medication. She missed a lot of school and when she was there, her ability to concentrate was almost non-existent. She did not yet want to tell everyone that she was pregnant, but realistically, it was difficult to function in that environment without letting people in on the secret. She was not readily excused to use the bathroom, and the teachers kind of assumed that she did not care. She was a terrified young woman who would have taken support from anyone who offered it, but sadly, it was not offered - When she missed the whole week of school, she had exactly one teacher inquire about her well-being...and that was the band director.
In a much as I wanted this to alter her life as little as possible, I needed to understand that working toward success - despite the pregnancy - had to be the goal. After much soul-searching, a thorough research of different options, including private and charter high schools in our area, I approached my daughter with the idea of going to the Area Learning Center - a "branch" of the high school that caters to kids that don't find success at the high school or just cannot deal with the high school atmosphere, have fallen behind for some reason, or did not complete their work prior to traditional graduation. I did not even have to get the sentence out of my mouth and my daughter wanted to go. In fact, I made the call to the high school counselor at 7:30 one morning and by 9:30 she had turned in her books and went to the ALC to officially enroll to start the next morning.
The plan was set. She would go to band at the high school every morning, then complete her day at the ALC My deal with her was that she would attend every day when she was able and she would leave the idea of returning to the high school for her senior year open. I was still holding on tight to my idea of normal.....
The ALC has been her salvation. She is treated like an adult. She loves the independence, and she even enjoys the group environment. She attends every day and she even puts in extra hours. Her grades have sky-rocketed - and she has worked hard. My personal opinion is that in a lot of ways, the ALC is a best kept secret. It is a quiet, goal-oriented, self-driven program that works well.
The goal for my daughter, that is literally talked about daily, is college. She has made real, solid and wonderful college plans. The college goal has not changed. She is on track to start college - if not a little earlier than our earlier plans.
I am starting to learn that my dreams for my daughter have not shattered...they have only been somewhat altered. The dreams and goals are alive and well - just a little non-traditional....should that surprise this single mother...by choice?
Then suddenly it wasn't.
She is not an exceptionally open person. She has a very difficult time opening up - as a parent, I have had to learn to "read" her. Initially, this was difficult because even though she was screaming for me to understand her, I was not at a place to want to understand her. Her first quarter at the mainstream high school did not turn out to be very successful. The fear, confusion and chaos in her life was exacerbated by a nasty upper respiratory infection that grabbed her and held on tight for a whole week - and we had to treat it without the aid of much medication. She missed a lot of school and when she was there, her ability to concentrate was almost non-existent. She did not yet want to tell everyone that she was pregnant, but realistically, it was difficult to function in that environment without letting people in on the secret. She was not readily excused to use the bathroom, and the teachers kind of assumed that she did not care. She was a terrified young woman who would have taken support from anyone who offered it, but sadly, it was not offered - When she missed the whole week of school, she had exactly one teacher inquire about her well-being...and that was the band director.
In a much as I wanted this to alter her life as little as possible, I needed to understand that working toward success - despite the pregnancy - had to be the goal. After much soul-searching, a thorough research of different options, including private and charter high schools in our area, I approached my daughter with the idea of going to the Area Learning Center - a "branch" of the high school that caters to kids that don't find success at the high school or just cannot deal with the high school atmosphere, have fallen behind for some reason, or did not complete their work prior to traditional graduation. I did not even have to get the sentence out of my mouth and my daughter wanted to go. In fact, I made the call to the high school counselor at 7:30 one morning and by 9:30 she had turned in her books and went to the ALC to officially enroll to start the next morning.
The plan was set. She would go to band at the high school every morning, then complete her day at the ALC My deal with her was that she would attend every day when she was able and she would leave the idea of returning to the high school for her senior year open. I was still holding on tight to my idea of normal.....
The ALC has been her salvation. She is treated like an adult. She loves the independence, and she even enjoys the group environment. She attends every day and she even puts in extra hours. Her grades have sky-rocketed - and she has worked hard. My personal opinion is that in a lot of ways, the ALC is a best kept secret. It is a quiet, goal-oriented, self-driven program that works well.
The goal for my daughter, that is literally talked about daily, is college. She has made real, solid and wonderful college plans. The college goal has not changed. She is on track to start college - if not a little earlier than our earlier plans.
I am starting to learn that my dreams for my daughter have not shattered...they have only been somewhat altered. The dreams and goals are alive and well - just a little non-traditional....should that surprise this single mother...by choice?
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Smile. You are on candid camera.
My daughter called me from school in about her 11th week of pregnancy and told me that she was having severe stomach pains. She had gone to the nurse, who talked to me and told me that we should probably go up to the clinic to get it checked out.
My daughter was very scared. I was numb. For the very first time, I realized that even though this was going to be a very difficult I certainly did not want it to end, and I most definitely did not want my daughter to have any difficulties that would cause her to be in pain and distress throughout her entire pregnancy. I had a deep love for her, but not for the baby...not yet.
The doctor on call wanted to make sure everything was alright and before I could brace myself we were in the ultrasound room.
The doctor put the wand on my daughter's flat little stomach and within seconds the second love of my life was thrashing around, moving their two inch head and waving at Grandma. And...that mighty heart was beating....
I was sunk. This was the second time in my life that I had fallen in love with a picture. The first time was when the Fed Ex envelope came from the adoption agency and I pulled out a picture of a little girl from Russia in a wool dress.
I am convinced that the stomach pains, that have not occurred again since that day, came for a reason. My daughter needed me to understand what she had experienced when she fell for the pencil-tipped sized spot on her six week ultrasound. She needed me to grasp the reality and to understand that the issue was not just the "pregnancy" - it was a BABY.
At the end of the day, no matter the outcome of this adventure, there was a baby that was going to be born. A baby that was going to be the one and only blood-related link to my adopted daughter.
My daughter and I took a trip to Minneapolis and began pregnancy options counseling at a wonderful organization called "Amnion Crisis Pregnancy Center." It is a Christian-based organization that offers lay counseling to persons experiencing unexpected pregnancies. It was a referral given to me by a friend who was one of the first persons I shared this news with, and who I shared my experience with not knowing that her daughter had gone through a very similar situation not so long ago. Her daughter ultimately ended up having twins that she gave to a wonderful couple as part of an open adoption. I did not even know that she had gone through this....I know that God put me with her that day, telling her story and helping me at a time when I needed the help so much.
I wanted my daughter to talk about options with a neutral party. I wanted her to make an educated and conscious decision regarding her future, as well as the future of her baby.
My friend brought me a book that did help to put it all in perspective, but more importantly, she shared a CD with me that put God firmly back into the picture. I needed a reminder that God was there - unconditionally, in the sun and the storm....especially in the storm.
My daughter was very scared. I was numb. For the very first time, I realized that even though this was going to be a very difficult I certainly did not want it to end, and I most definitely did not want my daughter to have any difficulties that would cause her to be in pain and distress throughout her entire pregnancy. I had a deep love for her, but not for the baby...not yet.
The doctor on call wanted to make sure everything was alright and before I could brace myself we were in the ultrasound room.
The doctor put the wand on my daughter's flat little stomach and within seconds the second love of my life was thrashing around, moving their two inch head and waving at Grandma. And...that mighty heart was beating....
I was sunk. This was the second time in my life that I had fallen in love with a picture. The first time was when the Fed Ex envelope came from the adoption agency and I pulled out a picture of a little girl from Russia in a wool dress.
I am convinced that the stomach pains, that have not occurred again since that day, came for a reason. My daughter needed me to understand what she had experienced when she fell for the pencil-tipped sized spot on her six week ultrasound. She needed me to grasp the reality and to understand that the issue was not just the "pregnancy" - it was a BABY.
At the end of the day, no matter the outcome of this adventure, there was a baby that was going to be born. A baby that was going to be the one and only blood-related link to my adopted daughter.
My daughter and I took a trip to Minneapolis and began pregnancy options counseling at a wonderful organization called "Amnion Crisis Pregnancy Center." It is a Christian-based organization that offers lay counseling to persons experiencing unexpected pregnancies. It was a referral given to me by a friend who was one of the first persons I shared this news with, and who I shared my experience with not knowing that her daughter had gone through a very similar situation not so long ago. Her daughter ultimately ended up having twins that she gave to a wonderful couple as part of an open adoption. I did not even know that she had gone through this....I know that God put me with her that day, telling her story and helping me at a time when I needed the help so much.
I wanted my daughter to talk about options with a neutral party. I wanted her to make an educated and conscious decision regarding her future, as well as the future of her baby.
My friend brought me a book that did help to put it all in perspective, but more importantly, she shared a CD with me that put God firmly back into the picture. I needed a reminder that God was there - unconditionally, in the sun and the storm....especially in the storm.
Well, hide me under a rock!
I am embarrassed to say that I was ashamed. I am ashamed to say that I was embarrassed. Anyway, this whole thing was pretty awful. I have always prided myself in being a good mother. I put everything I had into being a good mother. I never, ever thought I was perfect, but I did always think I was pretty good at it. This whole dilemma cracked my foundation.
I was a social worker for 12 years. I majored in social work in college. I tried to practice my profession everyday, even when I was not a social worker by profession any longer. I worked hard to promote honesty an openness in my family. I encouraged my daughter to share with me. I talked openly about life's issues, and I encouraged my daughter to do the same. I strongly encouraged her to talk to me about her relationships. I asked her lots of questions, and now I know that I only got the answers that she wanted to share. And, I only got her version of the truth, which was not always the truth.
I was not an unrealistic mother. When the subject of pregnancy came up with my friends, I was always the one who said, "I would never say never..." But, honestly, I didn't believe that. I should have believed it.
I was proud of her and I let everyone know that. I had a lot to be proud of, and I was proud of all of it. I was resting on my laurels....this single-parenting thing was stressful and challenging, but we were making it....heck, I could even be the role-model for single-parents. Things were good....
Then things were bad. Very, very bad.
I was so sad and so ashamed, and so very mad at myself. I hid in my house for two solid months. I went to work and came home. I avoided the public. I did not want to be with anyone who was leading a normal life.
I fluctuated between shock, anger, and the most intense panic I had ever experienced in my life.
But most of all I was ashamed. So very ashamed.
But, I loved my daughter more than I ever had in my whole life. This much I had known my whole life, and I knew it more than ever at this point in time. This life-altering, unbelievable, and yes, shameful thing was happening to my daughter - the absolute most important person in my life.
I was a social worker for 12 years. I majored in social work in college. I tried to practice my profession everyday, even when I was not a social worker by profession any longer. I worked hard to promote honesty an openness in my family. I encouraged my daughter to share with me. I talked openly about life's issues, and I encouraged my daughter to do the same. I strongly encouraged her to talk to me about her relationships. I asked her lots of questions, and now I know that I only got the answers that she wanted to share. And, I only got her version of the truth, which was not always the truth.
I was not an unrealistic mother. When the subject of pregnancy came up with my friends, I was always the one who said, "I would never say never..." But, honestly, I didn't believe that. I should have believed it.
I was proud of her and I let everyone know that. I had a lot to be proud of, and I was proud of all of it. I was resting on my laurels....this single-parenting thing was stressful and challenging, but we were making it....heck, I could even be the role-model for single-parents. Things were good....
Then things were bad. Very, very bad.
I was so sad and so ashamed, and so very mad at myself. I hid in my house for two solid months. I went to work and came home. I avoided the public. I did not want to be with anyone who was leading a normal life.
I fluctuated between shock, anger, and the most intense panic I had ever experienced in my life.
But most of all I was ashamed. So very ashamed.
But, I loved my daughter more than I ever had in my whole life. This much I had known my whole life, and I knew it more than ever at this point in time. This life-altering, unbelievable, and yes, shameful thing was happening to my daughter - the absolute most important person in my life.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Okay God...let's talk about this.
My daughter called her pediatrician, made an appointment with an OB/GYN and went to the doctor on her own, with the baby daddy - after she had taken five. Yes five, positive home pregnancy tests. She went to the doctor, and got her first ultrasound, and waited a whole day before she told me. If you know her, you know that this act in itself must have been very difficult for her. And, it was the first act of true dependence and maturity that she showed. It took me awhile to recognize it, but it is true, she started to grow up the minute that first test came back positive.
The idea of having the pregnancy put under the rug was not a very good idea - or very practical. The school nurse was told the very first day when I had to pull my daughter out of class to contact the doctor - so that I could talk to to the doctor. The swim coach was also told, even though, way deep down in his heart, I think he already knew. I guess I had never imagined all of the decisions that had to be made. I had never thought about doing this before....
And then there was the matter of my relationship with God. God and I were in a dilemma. I was pretty mad at Him for putting my family in this situation, and I imagined that he was pretty mad at us for doing the same. I also thought that the abortion idea was probably making Him pretty angry with me. I had some repenting to do, but I was not sure if I was ready for that yet, as I was still thinking that the whole thing could have been prevented if He would just have done things differently. Silly me. Silly, silly me.
But something kept coming to me. Even in the middle of the night. It is my "Safety Song." A psalm.
"Surely it is God who saves me. I will trust in Him and not be afraid - for the Lord is my Stronghold and my sure defense and He will be my Savior."
I have come back to this song for most of my life....on the subway in Moscow when we were being threatened, when my Dad lay dying in Washington DC, and now, when my world was coming apart (or so I thought). I came to the conclusion that I had let go of my Stronghold....and I grabbed it again.
I could not do this without God. We could not do this without God.
Yes, after a full week of pouting, I took the I out of this and put the WE back in. If WE were going to get through this, WE were going to do this together, as we always had. I had put my daughter at the end of my arm for a short time, but it was time to embrace her and whatever was to come.
The idea of having the pregnancy put under the rug was not a very good idea - or very practical. The school nurse was told the very first day when I had to pull my daughter out of class to contact the doctor - so that I could talk to to the doctor. The swim coach was also told, even though, way deep down in his heart, I think he already knew. I guess I had never imagined all of the decisions that had to be made. I had never thought about doing this before....
And then there was the matter of my relationship with God. God and I were in a dilemma. I was pretty mad at Him for putting my family in this situation, and I imagined that he was pretty mad at us for doing the same. I also thought that the abortion idea was probably making Him pretty angry with me. I had some repenting to do, but I was not sure if I was ready for that yet, as I was still thinking that the whole thing could have been prevented if He would just have done things differently. Silly me. Silly, silly me.
But something kept coming to me. Even in the middle of the night. It is my "Safety Song." A psalm.
"Surely it is God who saves me. I will trust in Him and not be afraid - for the Lord is my Stronghold and my sure defense and He will be my Savior."
I have come back to this song for most of my life....on the subway in Moscow when we were being threatened, when my Dad lay dying in Washington DC, and now, when my world was coming apart (or so I thought). I came to the conclusion that I had let go of my Stronghold....and I grabbed it again.
I could not do this without God. We could not do this without God.
Yes, after a full week of pouting, I took the I out of this and put the WE back in. If WE were going to get through this, WE were going to do this together, as we always had. I had put my daughter at the end of my arm for a short time, but it was time to embrace her and whatever was to come.
Why? Why us? Why now? Why am I so mad?
September 3 was on a Friday. Labor Day weekend. My daughter started her junior year of high school on the following Tuesday. We had talked all summer about her junior year. She was a three sport athlete, who had decided that all 5 foot 3 of her was going to put her basketball away in order to really work on her true passions...swimming and fast pitch. She was on the verge of showing the fruits of all of her labors. She worked on her swimming all summer and played many hours of fast pitch. She talked about working so hard to finally be a leader....
She started the swim season in mid-August, and in hind-sight, I should have known that something was wrong.
For the very first time since seventh grade, she did not want to go to practice. She acted almost afraid to go to practice. She was mad at me for pushing her. She was acting out emotionally - and behaving like she had never done before. She was so angry and so defiant. SHE WAS MAD.
But she wasn't mad.....really....she was just scared. Very scared. So scared that she did not even know how to deal with it, or how to act. She had never been this scared before. She was so scared that she did not even know she was scared.
The plan - that I made - was for us to keep her pregnancy a secret for as long as we could. She would not tell anyone that did not know already - the baby daddy, her best friend, and our small family. This was going to be a secret for as long as it could possibly be a secret. She was instructed for "forget" that she was pregnant for awhile...after all, she was only six weeks along and lots could happen...
I walked into my workplace on Tuesday morning, walked into the HR department to ask some pretty pointed questions about health insurance coverage, and started crying. I cried for three days solid without stopping. I cried until I hyperventilated. I had never cried so much in my entire life...I tried so hard to put the pregnancy into perspective. I tried to justify it. I tried to understand why. I could not understand why. I could not understand how I was possibly going to be able to accommodate all of this, when I was hanging by a thread before any of this happened.
I had tried so hard to do the right things for her from the very first time I laid hands on the picture of her in that little wool dress sitting in the arms of that orphanage worker. I had a life goal to give her a perfect life. We were living modestly, but honestly, she wanted for little. I was put on this earth to protect and guide her to a successful adulthood.....and I had failed. And, I am ashamed to say this, but I was embarrassed. Really embarrassed.
The mad went away. Now, I was sad....
She started the swim season in mid-August, and in hind-sight, I should have known that something was wrong.
For the very first time since seventh grade, she did not want to go to practice. She acted almost afraid to go to practice. She was mad at me for pushing her. She was acting out emotionally - and behaving like she had never done before. She was so angry and so defiant. SHE WAS MAD.
But she wasn't mad.....really....she was just scared. Very scared. So scared that she did not even know how to deal with it, or how to act. She had never been this scared before. She was so scared that she did not even know she was scared.
The plan - that I made - was for us to keep her pregnancy a secret for as long as we could. She would not tell anyone that did not know already - the baby daddy, her best friend, and our small family. This was going to be a secret for as long as it could possibly be a secret. She was instructed for "forget" that she was pregnant for awhile...after all, she was only six weeks along and lots could happen...
I walked into my workplace on Tuesday morning, walked into the HR department to ask some pretty pointed questions about health insurance coverage, and started crying. I cried for three days solid without stopping. I cried until I hyperventilated. I had never cried so much in my entire life...I tried so hard to put the pregnancy into perspective. I tried to justify it. I tried to understand why. I could not understand why. I could not understand how I was possibly going to be able to accommodate all of this, when I was hanging by a thread before any of this happened.
I had tried so hard to do the right things for her from the very first time I laid hands on the picture of her in that little wool dress sitting in the arms of that orphanage worker. I had a life goal to give her a perfect life. We were living modestly, but honestly, she wanted for little. I was put on this earth to protect and guide her to a successful adulthood.....and I had failed. And, I am ashamed to say this, but I was embarrassed. Really embarrassed.
The mad went away. Now, I was sad....
Friday, February 11, 2011
What to do....what to do.....
I have a confession to make. I have always had this believe that essentially, abortion was wrong. I voiced the opinion that the only way I could ever justify abortion in my mind was in the case that the mother would be at risk, or if it was a rape situation.
However, truthfully, the thought of abortion did cross my mind, and it crossed my mind more than once. My initial thought was that it would be the "easiest" thing to do. A trip to the clinic, take a pill...and it is all over. My daughter could start school with nobody knowing the wiser and life would be normal again. I just wanted it all to go away. Oh how I wanted it to go away. The very selfish part of me had taken over and I wanted to erase the last few days and go back to worrying about things like curfews, grades and swim meets. I saw this as a way to have it go away.
Except, life would never be normal again. Normal was being re-defined by the minute.
I mentioned abortion to my daughter and to the very first person who got the honor of knowing about her plight - my big brother. My brother showed his immediate opposition to the idea. He was strong and to the point.
A good friend almost took me to my knees when he talked about resolution. He had worked with numerous teenagers who had chosen abortion and he saw much struggle and depression surrounding resolution. These young women could not find any resolution for the act in their minds and it haunted them for a lifetime. Often, the guilt would lead to catastrophic life issues such as alcoholism, drug use, or even suicide.
I quickly fell back on my convictions and decided that abortion would not be talked about ever again, unless my daughter wanted to talk about it.
My daughter would not talk about it. She has never wanted to even discuss it. For you see, she was only thinking the way I had taught her. The beliefs I had ingrained in her and tried so hard to teach her were coming out in her actions. I should have been so proud of that. I am proud of that.
However, truthfully, the thought of abortion did cross my mind, and it crossed my mind more than once. My initial thought was that it would be the "easiest" thing to do. A trip to the clinic, take a pill...and it is all over. My daughter could start school with nobody knowing the wiser and life would be normal again. I just wanted it all to go away. Oh how I wanted it to go away. The very selfish part of me had taken over and I wanted to erase the last few days and go back to worrying about things like curfews, grades and swim meets. I saw this as a way to have it go away.
Except, life would never be normal again. Normal was being re-defined by the minute.
I mentioned abortion to my daughter and to the very first person who got the honor of knowing about her plight - my big brother. My brother showed his immediate opposition to the idea. He was strong and to the point.
A good friend almost took me to my knees when he talked about resolution. He had worked with numerous teenagers who had chosen abortion and he saw much struggle and depression surrounding resolution. These young women could not find any resolution for the act in their minds and it haunted them for a lifetime. Often, the guilt would lead to catastrophic life issues such as alcoholism, drug use, or even suicide.
I quickly fell back on my convictions and decided that abortion would not be talked about ever again, unless my daughter wanted to talk about it.
My daughter would not talk about it. She has never wanted to even discuss it. For you see, she was only thinking the way I had taught her. The beliefs I had ingrained in her and tried so hard to teach her were coming out in her actions. I should have been so proud of that. I am proud of that.
Not on My Shift
I am a planner. I plan everything. I am not good at being spontaneous. I want to know what is coming and how I am going to get there. I am the type of mother who has complete calendars in excel that outline every day of my child's life for months at a time. I wanted to know where we were going, what time we needed to be there, and what we were going to do when we got there. I had her sports calendars scheduled to the point of printing out maps to each location, or pre-setting the GPS. I calculate time and work to maintain organization. I want to be in control.
I want everyone reading this to know that I did not have this pregnancy on my calendar.
Did I mention that I am not good at being spontaneous?
The very first thing that I said when my child presented me with the six week ultrasound picture that she had obtained the day prior and announced, "it's an ultrasound picture.....I am pregnant" is "I cannot do this." Seriously, that is the very first thing I said, and I said it more than once. In fact, I think I said it about 15 times in a row before I could say anything else.
For the first time ever I felt like I was in over my head. For the first time in my whole life, I truly felt like life had handed me something that I could not handle. And, mind you, even though my life had been fairly normal up until this moment in time, I had gone through my share of adversity. The adoption process took three full years of paperwork, counseling sessions, an unbelievable stressful overseas trip, and a single-parent adoption. In the lapse of one year, I adopted a child, bought my first house, and lost my long-term job. Then, five years later, I lost another job, and five years later, after losing a close co-worker to cancer, and watching one of my best friends lose her daughter to a tragic fire, I lost my father very suddenly....and, it happened again...I lost my job. But I did not and still do not see these things as unmanageable. I was able to take control of these situations and come out a better person despite of them.
I could not get control of this pregnancy and coming out a better person at the end was not something I could see.
For goodness sake, I am a Project Manager all day, every day, and I did not get to manage this....I was so angry. Anger was a new thing for me, but I was angry. Very angry.
I want everyone reading this to know that I did not have this pregnancy on my calendar.
Did I mention that I am not good at being spontaneous?
The very first thing that I said when my child presented me with the six week ultrasound picture that she had obtained the day prior and announced, "it's an ultrasound picture.....I am pregnant" is "I cannot do this." Seriously, that is the very first thing I said, and I said it more than once. In fact, I think I said it about 15 times in a row before I could say anything else.
For the first time ever I felt like I was in over my head. For the first time in my whole life, I truly felt like life had handed me something that I could not handle. And, mind you, even though my life had been fairly normal up until this moment in time, I had gone through my share of adversity. The adoption process took three full years of paperwork, counseling sessions, an unbelievable stressful overseas trip, and a single-parent adoption. In the lapse of one year, I adopted a child, bought my first house, and lost my long-term job. Then, five years later, I lost another job, and five years later, after losing a close co-worker to cancer, and watching one of my best friends lose her daughter to a tragic fire, I lost my father very suddenly....and, it happened again...I lost my job. But I did not and still do not see these things as unmanageable. I was able to take control of these situations and come out a better person despite of them.
I could not get control of this pregnancy and coming out a better person at the end was not something I could see.
For goodness sake, I am a Project Manager all day, every day, and I did not get to manage this....I was so angry. Anger was a new thing for me, but I was angry. Very angry.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
OH BOY
I have always been one of "those" parents. I made a conscious decision to parent my child. I planned it to the minute, researched my options to the point of being an expert in most of them, and ultimately decided to adopt from a foreign country. I was 32 years old when I became a Mommy. I had a good job, I was self-sufficient, but I had over-whelming family support. I was a single mother who appeared to have it all together. I was prepared and ready.
I have dedicated my life, willingly, to raising my daughter. If there was an opportunity for her, I sought it out and got her involved. She was and is a willing participant in most activity and she was a true joy to serve and observe. I love her with everything I have. For the last 15 years, I have had the honor of being her mother. I have loved every minute of it. But she is 17 years old. She did not come to me until she was 2 1/2. I always felt like I missed something that I was not going to get back. I did not get to see her as a baby and I did not get to watch her roll over for the first time, crawl, take her first steps, or even say her first word. I missed out, and part of me has always felt sad, and even somewhat robbed by that. And, she was going to leave me and go off into adulthood in such short time. I yearned to have those 2 years back....
Well....sometimes you get what you wish for. You may not see it for awhile. But dreams come true...they may come in the backdoor, but they come. And, if I have learned anything from this, I have learned that you have to appreciate what you have when you get it. Even if it comes in an unexpected and initially quite traumatic fashion.
On September 3, 2010 my 16 year old daughter told me that she was pregnant. On September 3, 2010, I learned, for the very first time, how it felt to be completely overwhelmed. I did not have the answers...I did not have any answers....my dreams fell on the floor of the camper (where we were when she told me) and my heart and mind left my body and floated around southeastern MN for about two weeks before they came back. Really, for the very first time in my whole life, I was angry with everyone and everything, including my God. Yes, including my God.
There were so many things wrong with this picture For my daughter's whole entire life I had been able to fix everything for her. She struggled with ADHD and it was always a constant struggle to stay organized, follow directions, get good grades, have a social life. She has never had the ability to think about consequences - obviously. And, she always needed me to think for her. I had made a life out of running ahead of her with a safety net. Not behind her....ahead of her.
Now, mind you, we talked about boys and sex and pregnancy and birth control. These subjects were covered daily at our house. They really were. But, anyone who has spent anytime with a child with quite severe ADHD knows that as hard as you may try, curbing the impulsive acts is impossible. She acted impulsively, for 15 minutes, one July afternoon, and she changed her world, and the world of those who love her the most.
My daughter has always loved boys. Maybe it is because she was raised by a single mother who did not exactly have men knocking down the door. Maybe it is because her primary male role model died very suddenly when she was 9, maybe it was hereditary, or maybe she was just born with boys on the brain. And, as opposed to the issues of her mother, the boys like her too. Thus, the daily talks in our house about boys and sex and pregnancy. We worked on relationship building and companionship. Birth control was offered and available. I never condoned sexual activity, but I literally begged her to use birth control. And she promised that she would....
I have dedicated my life, willingly, to raising my daughter. If there was an opportunity for her, I sought it out and got her involved. She was and is a willing participant in most activity and she was a true joy to serve and observe. I love her with everything I have. For the last 15 years, I have had the honor of being her mother. I have loved every minute of it. But she is 17 years old. She did not come to me until she was 2 1/2. I always felt like I missed something that I was not going to get back. I did not get to see her as a baby and I did not get to watch her roll over for the first time, crawl, take her first steps, or even say her first word. I missed out, and part of me has always felt sad, and even somewhat robbed by that. And, she was going to leave me and go off into adulthood in such short time. I yearned to have those 2 years back....
Well....sometimes you get what you wish for. You may not see it for awhile. But dreams come true...they may come in the backdoor, but they come. And, if I have learned anything from this, I have learned that you have to appreciate what you have when you get it. Even if it comes in an unexpected and initially quite traumatic fashion.
On September 3, 2010 my 16 year old daughter told me that she was pregnant. On September 3, 2010, I learned, for the very first time, how it felt to be completely overwhelmed. I did not have the answers...I did not have any answers....my dreams fell on the floor of the camper (where we were when she told me) and my heart and mind left my body and floated around southeastern MN for about two weeks before they came back. Really, for the very first time in my whole life, I was angry with everyone and everything, including my God. Yes, including my God.
There were so many things wrong with this picture For my daughter's whole entire life I had been able to fix everything for her. She struggled with ADHD and it was always a constant struggle to stay organized, follow directions, get good grades, have a social life. She has never had the ability to think about consequences - obviously. And, she always needed me to think for her. I had made a life out of running ahead of her with a safety net. Not behind her....ahead of her.
Now, mind you, we talked about boys and sex and pregnancy and birth control. These subjects were covered daily at our house. They really were. But, anyone who has spent anytime with a child with quite severe ADHD knows that as hard as you may try, curbing the impulsive acts is impossible. She acted impulsively, for 15 minutes, one July afternoon, and she changed her world, and the world of those who love her the most.
My daughter has always loved boys. Maybe it is because she was raised by a single mother who did not exactly have men knocking down the door. Maybe it is because her primary male role model died very suddenly when she was 9, maybe it was hereditary, or maybe she was just born with boys on the brain. And, as opposed to the issues of her mother, the boys like her too. Thus, the daily talks in our house about boys and sex and pregnancy. We worked on relationship building and companionship. Birth control was offered and available. I never condoned sexual activity, but I literally begged her to use birth control. And she promised that she would....
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