So I know it's been just a ridiculous amount of time since I have written and really it's not for lack of ideas but actually maybe too many ideas. I liken it to apples at the grocery store. I mean really, have you ever taken the time to count the different types of apples you can buy? Seriously, it's too much for an already confused, overloaded, crazy minded person like myself. I end up standing there for 20 min only to walk away with nothing! As is my blog lately. At the start of this blog, I have four other blogs in process. Dumb
Anyway, today was one of those, 'I better write so I feel better kind of days' for several reasons. I hate it when you know someone is upset with you but instead of just telling you why, they ignore you (I may or may not of acted that way a time or two too myself) but really, just let me know so I can fix it! But, that wasn't the biggest problem of the day.... I made the decsion to take Leah to Wichita! She had OT, PT, and Speech, which in of itself should have been a big warning but I went in early to shop for my other daughters birthday as well. All this a day after Leah ran a fever (her first ) all day and has done nothing but cry today although fever free.
WHAT WAS I THINKING?????
For the love of God, I need more than two arms! I need an arm to carry the baby, an arm to carry my purse, diaper bag, and can of caffeine, another arm to push the stroller, one more to open the door so my third arm can push the stroller through, or one that is abnormally long to reach into the back seat, over the car seat and long enough to grab the binky and stuff it in the mouth of one screaming, overworked, doesn't feel good baby while my other two arms are busy driving and wiping the tears that have mysteriously began trailing down my cheeks.
Our first stop was the Goddard McDonalds because Leah is screaming in the back seat. Her face is red, she is pissed, and I haven't had any caffeine all morning. I proceed to order a burger and an extra large drink, wishing they had a bud light keg on tap but thankful for whatever it was I filled it with. The child has to be exhausted at this point and wishful thinking envisions a baby that takes her binky and falls fast asleep in her joyful mothers arms. WRONG AGAIN!
Next stop: The Mall! Now, I once again incorrectly label our trip as peaceful. Thinking a nice stroll in the stoller in the cool mall was all she needed. Oh how I was wrong. Pretty sure the girls in The Buckle will not be having kids anytime soon. After about 3 min of browsing and a screaming Leah, I gently smiled at the girl and said we'll be back. I think the look she gave me was "oh, please don't".
I have always thought it was so nice of the mall people to strategically set so many benches throughout the mall for whomever might need them....you know, the men made to go shopping with their wives who really could care less, the older woman who just needs a rest, or the mother with the screaming baby. Yeah, I plopped my near to tears butt down on that bench and wished I had a dollar for every person that walked by and stared at us. Ready to throw in the towel and I see relief. A friend and her daughter conveniently arrived, just happened to come to the entrance we were sitting at, to the very store I was shopping in, and rescued me. For 15 minutes, I shopped minus a screaming baby.
Next stop: Wesley....oh the memories I have of Wesley. Somehow, Leah miraculously didn't utter one peep on the drive from the mall to Wesley. NOT ONE! It was rejuvenating....but it didn't last long. By the time we strolled to the therapy office, Leah was once again putting on the performance from hell. The OT lady got her to calm down a little bit but it was shorted lived. One mom made a comment to me, "Wow, she is really upset" NO SHIT! To make a long story short, OT, Speech, and PT rescheduled for another day.
Now, it's been said before that women tend to want to do everything by themselves. I am one of those not necessarily because I think I am the greatest at it but I guess because I am somewhat of a loaner. I knew going in that it probably wasn't going to be a productive day, but I did it anyway and I paid the price and sadly, so did my little girl, who is FINALLY after seven hours, sleeping. And what makes it worse, is I will do it again...I think mothers are designed to punish themselves in mysterious ways.
Whew....anybody got a drink?
This is a story. A story about a little girl. A little girl named Leah.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Celebrating Quirky
Having established that I am a worry wort and borderline if not full blown psychotic, I find myself trying desperately to have a vision of the bigger picture. Not a vision of this moment, this situation, this day or even this year but the whole darn thing.
If I were to draw the big picture of the rest of my life, I don't even know what kind of colors I would use or what exactly it is I would draw. I started thinking about my aura and what colors my aura would give off. HA HA HA It's stated that your aura is surpressed by stress, anxiety, fear or any other negative thought. Yea, you can imagine what my picture would look like.
When I look into the future, what I hope for and what I feel at this time aren't even in the realm of alike. It's different and the lesson I am trying to teach myself is that different is ok. I had a conversation with an awesome person at lunch today and what she said nearly brought tears to my eyes. Now, sobbing in Subway over my footlong ham on Italian bread is not cool. I wanted so bad to shed a little tear because a light bulb had gone off in my head and let's face it, that's rare.
She said something like this: What I love about all of us is that we all have some element of different. We all have our quirkiness.
Why wouldn't we want to be quirky? Quirky is distinguishable. Quirky is daring. Some of us are late, some of us are clumsy, some of us are goofy, some of us are clueless, some of us are daydreamers, some of us are outspoken, some of us have goofy hair, goofy clothes, and goofy jokes. Some of us are well different. I not only want to recognize someone's quirky, I want to appreciate it. I want to make them feel like their quirkiness is as normal as the smile on their face...Different? Absolutely Ok? You bet
My Taylor wears mismatched clothes and socks and doesn't care one bit....I LOVE that about her. My Logan is a space cadet but would jump right up to help someone....I LOVE that about him. My Leah is teaching me lessons I never wanted to learn......I LOVE that about her.
My life is different than a year ago.....but it's ok. My future is different than a year ago.....but it's ok. My picture will be quirky and beautiful and I'm going to paint it with fun vibrant hopeful colors!
What's your quirky?
If I were to draw the big picture of the rest of my life, I don't even know what kind of colors I would use or what exactly it is I would draw. I started thinking about my aura and what colors my aura would give off. HA HA HA It's stated that your aura is surpressed by stress, anxiety, fear or any other negative thought. Yea, you can imagine what my picture would look like.
When I look into the future, what I hope for and what I feel at this time aren't even in the realm of alike. It's different and the lesson I am trying to teach myself is that different is ok. I had a conversation with an awesome person at lunch today and what she said nearly brought tears to my eyes. Now, sobbing in Subway over my footlong ham on Italian bread is not cool. I wanted so bad to shed a little tear because a light bulb had gone off in my head and let's face it, that's rare.
She said something like this: What I love about all of us is that we all have some element of different. We all have our quirkiness.
Why wouldn't we want to be quirky? Quirky is distinguishable. Quirky is daring. Some of us are late, some of us are clumsy, some of us are goofy, some of us are clueless, some of us are daydreamers, some of us are outspoken, some of us have goofy hair, goofy clothes, and goofy jokes. Some of us are well different. I not only want to recognize someone's quirky, I want to appreciate it. I want to make them feel like their quirkiness is as normal as the smile on their face...Different? Absolutely Ok? You bet
My Taylor wears mismatched clothes and socks and doesn't care one bit....I LOVE that about her. My Logan is a space cadet but would jump right up to help someone....I LOVE that about him. My Leah is teaching me lessons I never wanted to learn......I LOVE that about her.
My life is different than a year ago.....but it's ok. My future is different than a year ago.....but it's ok. My picture will be quirky and beautiful and I'm going to paint it with fun vibrant hopeful colors!
What's your quirky?
Monday, June 6, 2011
Releasing the Hippos
Often times I find myself holding my breath....my shoulders tightened jaw clenched. I literally have to remind myself to take a deep breath, exhale, and relax. Let it go. Impossible for me to do for any healthy length of time. If I am not worrying about something, it isn't a normal day.
Isn't it a mothers job to worry? Well maybe I just tell myself that to seem normal although Im not sure what normal is anymore except that I know it's not me. I am weird. I admit it. I AM WEIRD!
I worry about odd things. There is the strange unlikely events like the hippopotamus exhibit at the zoo. I have this terrible fear of one of my kids falling into the hippopotamus pit at the zoo. I mean really, who worries about that? ME....when someone merely mentions the zoo, anxiety in the pit of my stomach arises and visions of jumping into the hippo pool to save my child cripple me....I can play it out from beginning to end. Horrifying....Weird.
Another odd fear of mine is being squished by a huge enormous object like a dump truck or an airplane. I can't tell you the nightmares I have had about this and really, I would have a better chance of landing a triple axle on ice skates. Weird.
Yes, I am weird, probably even bizarre at times. I have jumped to conclusions, made assumptions, and ruined friendships over my bizarre behavior but I have to say, it was all constructed with good intentions that ended with bad results. I have been suffocating in saddness. I have been suffocating in bitterness. I am suffocating in worry.
Worry is a constant in my life and probably every one else's life too. It's what we, as compassionate human beings do. We worry about things we can't control, things we can, things that haven't happened, and things that happened years ago.
I worry about my kids, their friends, their grades, their activities. I worry about my relationships....I don't do intimate friendships well and really really want to. I worry about paying bills, and sending my kids to college, keeping my house. I worry about the concrete that's broken in our driveway, the trampoline that is torn, the pool that needs cleaned. I worry about my marriage and my faith. It's something constantly. We, all of us, have a lot to take care of.....a lot to worry about. But worrying about things you can't control is a challenge to overcome. What it is, is insane.
I worried about starting this because I would eventually like my exercise plans, stop doing it.....let's see here, it has been three weeks since I have blogged. Damn. I worried what people would think of my thoughts...all honest and not completely shared because there again, I worry. But have shared more than I have ever thought I could. I needed to find a way to exhale. I needed to find a way to believe that although my life is weird, it is ok. This blog is my exhale. It's my relief. It's how I can leave my worries behind so I can face tomorrow. You see, I have some very important things to do tomorrow.
I am going to play pat-a-cake with Leah even if she can't clap. I am going to teach her This Little Piggy even if she can't giggle. I am going to put her in the pool even if she can't swim. I am going to read her a book even if she can't understand it. We are going to sit outside and listen to the birds even if she cant hear them. I am going to take her to the ball game even if she can't cheer. I am going to kiss her wether she can feel it or not. I am going to love her to pieces even if she doesn't know it. I am not only going to love her for the rest of her life....I'm going to love her for the rest of mine.
For tomorrow, I am going to lay the fears and worries aside in a box, cover them in tissue paper and store them away under the bed to be retrieved another day.
Today, I am releasing the hippos.......I am exhaling......I am healing.
Isn't it a mothers job to worry? Well maybe I just tell myself that to seem normal although Im not sure what normal is anymore except that I know it's not me. I am weird. I admit it. I AM WEIRD!
I worry about odd things. There is the strange unlikely events like the hippopotamus exhibit at the zoo. I have this terrible fear of one of my kids falling into the hippopotamus pit at the zoo. I mean really, who worries about that? ME....when someone merely mentions the zoo, anxiety in the pit of my stomach arises and visions of jumping into the hippo pool to save my child cripple me....I can play it out from beginning to end. Horrifying....Weird.
Another odd fear of mine is being squished by a huge enormous object like a dump truck or an airplane. I can't tell you the nightmares I have had about this and really, I would have a better chance of landing a triple axle on ice skates. Weird.
Yes, I am weird, probably even bizarre at times. I have jumped to conclusions, made assumptions, and ruined friendships over my bizarre behavior but I have to say, it was all constructed with good intentions that ended with bad results. I have been suffocating in saddness. I have been suffocating in bitterness. I am suffocating in worry.
Worry is a constant in my life and probably every one else's life too. It's what we, as compassionate human beings do. We worry about things we can't control, things we can, things that haven't happened, and things that happened years ago.
I worry about my kids, their friends, their grades, their activities. I worry about my relationships....I don't do intimate friendships well and really really want to. I worry about paying bills, and sending my kids to college, keeping my house. I worry about the concrete that's broken in our driveway, the trampoline that is torn, the pool that needs cleaned. I worry about my marriage and my faith. It's something constantly. We, all of us, have a lot to take care of.....a lot to worry about. But worrying about things you can't control is a challenge to overcome. What it is, is insane.
I worried about starting this because I would eventually like my exercise plans, stop doing it.....let's see here, it has been three weeks since I have blogged. Damn. I worried what people would think of my thoughts...all honest and not completely shared because there again, I worry. But have shared more than I have ever thought I could. I needed to find a way to exhale. I needed to find a way to believe that although my life is weird, it is ok. This blog is my exhale. It's my relief. It's how I can leave my worries behind so I can face tomorrow. You see, I have some very important things to do tomorrow.
I am going to play pat-a-cake with Leah even if she can't clap. I am going to teach her This Little Piggy even if she can't giggle. I am going to put her in the pool even if she can't swim. I am going to read her a book even if she can't understand it. We are going to sit outside and listen to the birds even if she cant hear them. I am going to take her to the ball game even if she can't cheer. I am going to kiss her wether she can feel it or not. I am going to love her to pieces even if she doesn't know it. I am not only going to love her for the rest of her life....I'm going to love her for the rest of mine.
For tomorrow, I am going to lay the fears and worries aside in a box, cover them in tissue paper and store them away under the bed to be retrieved another day.
Today, I am releasing the hippos.......I am exhaling......I am healing.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Faith ~ Hope ~ Love
So today I'm talking about Hope.....I'm skipping over Faith for now. I know, I know, the rapture is a very short 48 hours away so that probably isn't wise on my part. But at some point I'll come back to it.
I say I'll come back to it because I do hope that I don't always feel the way I do now about this whole situation. I hope that at some point, I can look back and know that I learned something and became all the better for it. I hope for that.....I know I have a lot of work to do but I hope that someday, and someday soon it's really really ok.
But there is also something else I hope for:
I hope in her dreams her baby blues can know the beauty of a pink Gerbera daisy, a storm cloud full of energy, the sun setting over the lake.
I hope in her dreams her feet can feel the lush green grass, her toes the cool wet sand.
I hope in her dreams her feet walk a mile and run a marathon.
I hope in her dreams she makes it to the Statue of Liberty, the Grand Canyon, and the Washington Monument.
I hope in her dreams, she bates a hook with a dirty worm, and squeals with delight as she catches a fish.
I hope in her dreams, she runs down the court and makes a last second shot, hits a home run, and serves an ace.
I hope in her dreams she writes a poem, wins a spelling bee, and enjoys a great book.
I hope in her dreams her hands pet a dog, touch a giraffe, and hold a baby chick.
I hope in her dreams, she sees the Wizard of Oz, Mickey Mouse, and Shamu.
I hope in her dreams, she sings the National Anthem, Mony Mony, and How Great Thou Art.
I hope in her dreams, she feels the warmth of a touch, the excitement of a kiss, the safety of a hug.
I hope in her dreams, she jumps off the diving board, rides in a boat, and swims like a fish.
I hope in her dreams, she shops with her friends, pierces her ears, and buys bright red lipstick.
I hope in her dreams, she tastes a hot dog, rides a bike, and eats an ice cream cone.
I hope in her dreams, she rides a roller coaster, eats cotton candy, and sucks on a lollipop.
I hope in her dreams, she ice skates, and high jumps, and does the limbo on roller skates.
I hope in her dreams, she can smell a rose, pick a dandelion, and jump on a trampoline.
I hope in her dreams, she walks down the aisle in a beautiful white dress.
I hope in her dreams she holds her own sweet bundle of joy.
I hope in her dreams, she knows how much she is loved.
I hope in her dreams she:
Dances like nobody's watching,
Loves like she'll never be hurt,
Sings like there's nobody listening
And lives like it's heaven on earth.
-William W. Purkey-
I say I'll come back to it because I do hope that I don't always feel the way I do now about this whole situation. I hope that at some point, I can look back and know that I learned something and became all the better for it. I hope for that.....I know I have a lot of work to do but I hope that someday, and someday soon it's really really ok.
But there is also something else I hope for:
I hope in her dreams her baby blues can know the beauty of a pink Gerbera daisy, a storm cloud full of energy, the sun setting over the lake.
I hope in her dreams her feet can feel the lush green grass, her toes the cool wet sand.
I hope in her dreams her feet walk a mile and run a marathon.
I hope in her dreams she makes it to the Statue of Liberty, the Grand Canyon, and the Washington Monument.
I hope in her dreams, she bates a hook with a dirty worm, and squeals with delight as she catches a fish.
I hope in her dreams, she runs down the court and makes a last second shot, hits a home run, and serves an ace.
I hope in her dreams she writes a poem, wins a spelling bee, and enjoys a great book.
I hope in her dreams her hands pet a dog, touch a giraffe, and hold a baby chick.
I hope in her dreams, she sees the Wizard of Oz, Mickey Mouse, and Shamu.
I hope in her dreams, she sings the National Anthem, Mony Mony, and How Great Thou Art.
I hope in her dreams, she feels the warmth of a touch, the excitement of a kiss, the safety of a hug.
I hope in her dreams, she jumps off the diving board, rides in a boat, and swims like a fish.
I hope in her dreams, she shops with her friends, pierces her ears, and buys bright red lipstick.
I hope in her dreams, she tastes a hot dog, rides a bike, and eats an ice cream cone.
I hope in her dreams, she rides a roller coaster, eats cotton candy, and sucks on a lollipop.
I hope in her dreams, she ice skates, and high jumps, and does the limbo on roller skates.
I hope in her dreams, she can smell a rose, pick a dandelion, and jump on a trampoline.
I hope in her dreams, she walks down the aisle in a beautiful white dress.
I hope in her dreams she holds her own sweet bundle of joy.
I hope in her dreams, she knows how much she is loved.
I hope in her dreams she:
Dances like nobody's watching,
Loves like she'll never be hurt,
Sings like there's nobody listening
And lives like it's heaven on earth.
-William W. Purkey-
Monday, May 16, 2011
Got mail?
I love to get my mail. It's seems to be the highlight of my day. Yeah, I know, it's pretty pathetic. I can't wait to get home and make the 22 step jaunt to my mail box to see what is in that little black box.
Today was no different except for the white envelope that I had completely forgotten was coming. One of those surprise mailings that totally sinks your day but this time it wasn't an unexpected bill or property taxes. It was the envelope containing Leah's medical records. My heart sunk because I knew on this beautiful day, that hadn't so far produced any tears, I would have to open it up and read it. I can't for the life of me put gratification off. Instant gratification is a necessity for me even it means I have to gnaw on my big toe for while or throw myself into an emotional washer on high agitate cycle. Front to back....cover to cover.....word by word I read it and I sobbed.
It wasn't anything new, just reality slapping me in the face and it hurt. And I read it again and again hoping I had missed somewhere in there where it said what caused this. I hadn't. You see, I tend to believe that if there was a reason, or something to blame it on, that somehow, I could accept what has happened. That if there was something I could point to, I would automatically from this day forward, love my life. I didn't.
I remember laying in my hospital bed before the c-section, and the doctor was telling me what they had suspected happened. Probably a virus, a stroke, or a result of cocaine use. I believe with the mention of cocaine use, I choked, and started laughing because he was dead serious. He looked at me like I was the drug whore of Cheney. Just for the record, I assure you, it wasn't cocaine use that caused this....I wouldn't even know where to buy cocaine if for some reason I really felt the need to go there but I don't.
They knew at this point that there was a feto-maternal hemorrhage which means Leah and I had a blood exchange and she was very anemic which means she wasn't getting adequate oxygen levels in her blood traveling to her brain or throughout her body. Your kidneys, heart, liver etc can operate at a decreased level without long term damage.....the brain cannot. After 3 min without oxygen, your brain cells begin to die and they don't regenerate like kidney or liver cells. I was tested for a gammate of viruses and all were negative. I'm sure they also tested me for drug use but apparently that was negative too because I was never escorted out of the hospital to the local jail either.
To this day, we have no idea what happened. It is very unsettling to me because I want to know. Was it the fact that I was 37 yrs old.....was it the fact that I had taken ibuprofen instead of Tylenol (at the knowledge of my dr), was it that I ate a piece of sashimi tuna before I realized I wasn't supposed to do that? Was there something I could have done different...should I have, because of my age, insisted on more sonograms? I don't know. I want to know. I want to go back to July when our sonogram showed a healthy thriving little girl and do it differently....something....everything. I want a reason.
I know I will never know. I know I will never stop wondering. I don't know if it was my fault or not, but I do know it wasn't anyone else's. I've always said, I do know one thing.... I don't know enough.
Today was no different except for the white envelope that I had completely forgotten was coming. One of those surprise mailings that totally sinks your day but this time it wasn't an unexpected bill or property taxes. It was the envelope containing Leah's medical records. My heart sunk because I knew on this beautiful day, that hadn't so far produced any tears, I would have to open it up and read it. I can't for the life of me put gratification off. Instant gratification is a necessity for me even it means I have to gnaw on my big toe for while or throw myself into an emotional washer on high agitate cycle. Front to back....cover to cover.....word by word I read it and I sobbed.
It wasn't anything new, just reality slapping me in the face and it hurt. And I read it again and again hoping I had missed somewhere in there where it said what caused this. I hadn't. You see, I tend to believe that if there was a reason, or something to blame it on, that somehow, I could accept what has happened. That if there was something I could point to, I would automatically from this day forward, love my life. I didn't.
I remember laying in my hospital bed before the c-section, and the doctor was telling me what they had suspected happened. Probably a virus, a stroke, or a result of cocaine use. I believe with the mention of cocaine use, I choked, and started laughing because he was dead serious. He looked at me like I was the drug whore of Cheney. Just for the record, I assure you, it wasn't cocaine use that caused this....I wouldn't even know where to buy cocaine if for some reason I really felt the need to go there but I don't.
They knew at this point that there was a feto-maternal hemorrhage which means Leah and I had a blood exchange and she was very anemic which means she wasn't getting adequate oxygen levels in her blood traveling to her brain or throughout her body. Your kidneys, heart, liver etc can operate at a decreased level without long term damage.....the brain cannot. After 3 min without oxygen, your brain cells begin to die and they don't regenerate like kidney or liver cells. I was tested for a gammate of viruses and all were negative. I'm sure they also tested me for drug use but apparently that was negative too because I was never escorted out of the hospital to the local jail either.
To this day, we have no idea what happened. It is very unsettling to me because I want to know. Was it the fact that I was 37 yrs old.....was it the fact that I had taken ibuprofen instead of Tylenol (at the knowledge of my dr), was it that I ate a piece of sashimi tuna before I realized I wasn't supposed to do that? Was there something I could have done different...should I have, because of my age, insisted on more sonograms? I don't know. I want to know. I want to go back to July when our sonogram showed a healthy thriving little girl and do it differently....something....everything. I want a reason.
I know I will never know. I know I will never stop wondering. I don't know if it was my fault or not, but I do know it wasn't anyone else's. I've always said, I do know one thing.... I don't know enough.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Humor....It does a body good
Sometimes, you have to laugh just so you won't cry. And sometimes you have to laugh while you are crying. And sometimes, you just have to laugh.
Humor comes at the funniest times and from moments that don't really seem to funny yet somehow it appears when you need it most.
It's becoming very anxiety ridden for me to take Leah out in public.....at least around people that aren't aware of her situation. So I was in Walmart the other day with her and sure enough as lots of people do, these two woman walked by, stopped, and cooed over Leah, her cute dress, shoes, and bow all the while my mind is begging them not to stay too long.....please don't notice that she doesn't smile.....please don't notice that something isn't quite right.....please for God sake don't ask me any questions about her.
And I can tell it's coming. My protective superman jumps in and attempts to strategically maneuver the cart away from Busy Body 1 and Nosy Parker 2.....to no avail.
"Oooh look at your baby she is a doll. (These statements I love....tell me how sweet she is....how pretty her blue eyes are.....or how cute her outfit is......tell me tell me tell me) But it didn't stop there. They proceeded to really look her over and start chatting with each other as if I didn't know that Leah wasn't normal. Like I hadn't noticed that she doesn't smile, coo, or move around like other 6 mo olds. So as my stomach is turning in knots, my heart rate a throb, I realize whats coming next. "I noticed your baby isn't smiling...wow, she must just be really tired huh? Her eyes do look pretty sleepy (I get this statement a lot anyway) So in all my glory I said it. I looked them in the eye and I said with a big smile on my face: Yeah, you are right. She was born 10 weeks early and she doesn't have a brain. And it happened...my chance to escape opened right up as they started stumbling over their words and backing away. Satisfaction building itself a little home in my body. Little miss Leah and I made our way to the towel section where I stood with what must of been the biggest smile on my face in a long time. The look on those women's faces was priceless. The kind of priceless that I will remember forever. I picked Leah up and kissed her lovely fat squishy cheeks and laughed and my thought simply this: It's going to be ok.
I leave you today with this: Don't ask people you don't know, questions about their babies. Don't ask them, how old they are, is she good, does she sleep well, etc etc. Just don't do it. I beg of you, simply say little things like, your baby is sweet....your baby is a doll.....love her bow....love those fat cheeks....and walk on. It's not something I've ever seen in an etiquette book (oh yeah, I don't read etiquette books) but I'm beginning to think I need to write one. And, it's not something I would have ever recognized myself if I weren't in this position. But I can tell you from the bottom of my heart, don't ask people questions you don't know.... for families like us, you open a can of painful.
*Note: This doesn't mean you can't ask me any questions. I don't mind people I know asking about Leah and you can ask me anything. I will answer you honestly. Seems, I don't come with a filter.
Humor comes at the funniest times and from moments that don't really seem to funny yet somehow it appears when you need it most.
It's becoming very anxiety ridden for me to take Leah out in public.....at least around people that aren't aware of her situation. So I was in Walmart the other day with her and sure enough as lots of people do, these two woman walked by, stopped, and cooed over Leah, her cute dress, shoes, and bow all the while my mind is begging them not to stay too long.....please don't notice that she doesn't smile.....please don't notice that something isn't quite right.....please for God sake don't ask me any questions about her.
And I can tell it's coming. My protective superman jumps in and attempts to strategically maneuver the cart away from Busy Body 1 and Nosy Parker 2.....to no avail.
"Oooh look at your baby she is a doll. (These statements I love....tell me how sweet she is....how pretty her blue eyes are.....or how cute her outfit is......tell me tell me tell me) But it didn't stop there. They proceeded to really look her over and start chatting with each other as if I didn't know that Leah wasn't normal. Like I hadn't noticed that she doesn't smile, coo, or move around like other 6 mo olds. So as my stomach is turning in knots, my heart rate a throb, I realize whats coming next. "I noticed your baby isn't smiling...wow, she must just be really tired huh? Her eyes do look pretty sleepy (I get this statement a lot anyway) So in all my glory I said it. I looked them in the eye and I said with a big smile on my face: Yeah, you are right. She was born 10 weeks early and she doesn't have a brain. And it happened...my chance to escape opened right up as they started stumbling over their words and backing away. Satisfaction building itself a little home in my body. Little miss Leah and I made our way to the towel section where I stood with what must of been the biggest smile on my face in a long time. The look on those women's faces was priceless. The kind of priceless that I will remember forever. I picked Leah up and kissed her lovely fat squishy cheeks and laughed and my thought simply this: It's going to be ok.
I leave you today with this: Don't ask people you don't know, questions about their babies. Don't ask them, how old they are, is she good, does she sleep well, etc etc. Just don't do it. I beg of you, simply say little things like, your baby is sweet....your baby is a doll.....love her bow....love those fat cheeks....and walk on. It's not something I've ever seen in an etiquette book (oh yeah, I don't read etiquette books) but I'm beginning to think I need to write one. And, it's not something I would have ever recognized myself if I weren't in this position. But I can tell you from the bottom of my heart, don't ask people questions you don't know.... for families like us, you open a can of painful.
*Note: This doesn't mean you can't ask me any questions. I don't mind people I know asking about Leah and you can ask me anything. I will answer you honestly. Seems, I don't come with a filter.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
It is what it is
Sometimes, it happens..... Life opens up and takes a big ol shit on your head. After having my job stripped from me this week, I have now turned into that person we have all talked about... HER!...."I saw her in the grocery store today and she seemed pretty good" "I visited with her last night and she is a mess" Yep that's me. I'm the dreaded HER. The one that is guaranteed to break down at any moment and if your lucky, you'll have a front row seat!
Ok so maybe people aren't talking about me but it feels that way because let's face it, things just aren't going our way and the light at the end of the tunnel is miles and miles down the road and getting farther away. Its the dream that puts you on the end of a road and the farther you look, the longer it stretches and there's only one way to get to the other end.
I want to think that surely this is one of the moments in time when you look back and say you were all the better for it. That it can't get much worse but then again.......its me we are talking about. I am the one that wouldn't win at bingo if I was the only one playing. Yep, I'm back in my pool but this pool is getting very cold and I hate cold.
10/10/10.....a marathon. No, I didn't run it, that is comical in itself, but I was there with a group of friends cheering on another group of friends. These are the friends who have turned around and decided to run a marathon with me. The friends who check in with me throughout the day to make sure I haven't collapsed into a pile of pitiful on the floor. The friends who invite me to lunch to get me off my 3x3 sofa cushion. The friends who spend Friday nights at my house who don't need to talk about the pile of shit on top of my head. The friends who ignore the stinch but sift through it when I need them to. The friends who make me laugh when I want to cry and let me cry when I need to laugh. The ones who remind me: It is what it is.
Like Sally Field says in Steel Magnolias: Life goes on
Ok so maybe people aren't talking about me but it feels that way because let's face it, things just aren't going our way and the light at the end of the tunnel is miles and miles down the road and getting farther away. Its the dream that puts you on the end of a road and the farther you look, the longer it stretches and there's only one way to get to the other end.
I want to think that surely this is one of the moments in time when you look back and say you were all the better for it. That it can't get much worse but then again.......its me we are talking about. I am the one that wouldn't win at bingo if I was the only one playing. Yep, I'm back in my pool but this pool is getting very cold and I hate cold.
10/10/10.....a marathon. No, I didn't run it, that is comical in itself, but I was there with a group of friends cheering on another group of friends. These are the friends who have turned around and decided to run a marathon with me. The friends who check in with me throughout the day to make sure I haven't collapsed into a pile of pitiful on the floor. The friends who invite me to lunch to get me off my 3x3 sofa cushion. The friends who spend Friday nights at my house who don't need to talk about the pile of shit on top of my head. The friends who ignore the stinch but sift through it when I need them to. The friends who make me laugh when I want to cry and let me cry when I need to laugh. The ones who remind me: It is what it is.
Like Sally Field says in Steel Magnolias: Life goes on
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