This morning I got a phone call that nobody wants to get. Luckily for me and my family, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. My husband usually gets home from work at around 8am, and I think it was about a quarter till. All week I've been waking up before my alarm, so I was already up and browsing facebook when my MIL called. I instantly froze because she never calls this early, so I knew something must be wrong. For whatever reason I didn't answer. I guess because I didn't want to give in to the voice in my head saying something was wrong.
I was hoping she would leave a voicemail, saying something like sorry to call so early, just wanted to tell you, such and such. But a few seconds after it stopped ringing, she called again. Now I knew it was bad, so I answered. My husband was in a car accident, and his phone was damaged and like many, he doesn't know anybody's number. Luckily he remembered his parent's house phone, and luckily she is off on Wednesdays.
She said he was in an accident and she asked if she could come get him and he said no, I won't be here by then. He said he was ok, but that was all he really said. He had borrowed the paramedic's phone, so he couldn't talk long. She got the number off her caller ID so I called the number and got voicemail, but he called me a few minutes later. I was happy to talk to him, he said he was ok, but he sounded very weird, and everything he said was short and one word. He said they were taking him by ambulance to the hospital and for me to meet him there.
Of course I was thankful he sounded ok, and I got to talk to him instead of an EMT or a cop, but I was still worried. Thanks to watching too much Grey's Anatomy, I know someone who is alert and talking isn't always guaranteed a good outcome. My MIL usually takes Emily on Wednesdays, but wasn't going to today because she was going with my FIL to a doctor's appointment that was expected to take a while, but of course she offered to take her anyway so I didn't have to take her to the hospital with me.
So I got myself ready and then got Emmy up and dressed. I was ready to go when my MIL got there, so I took Em out to her car and....no car seat. My FIL takes it out for some reason when they're not using it. Which I don't get why, it's not that they often have passengers and need the seat, and even if they do give someone a ride, it's a 7 passenger vehicle, I think they'll be ok with one seat out of commission. So anyway, I was going to get my seat out and put it in hers but I knew that would be a pain and I was already stressed and anxious and trying to deal with getting the seat unhooked was probably not a good idea. So we just traded cars. Luckily they have the Buick version of our Traverse, so at least I didn't have to drive an unfamiliar car while anxious and worried.
The hospital wasn't far, and Ryan text me on the way, so that made me feel better. When I got there a very nice front desk lady looked up his info and took me back and pointed out what room he was in. It sounds corny, but when you're already freaking out, I was very thankful for a nice person when I walked in the door who was very helpful. So he was ok, he had a lot of dried blood on his face, and a cut on his head that was bleeding pretty steadily. The truck is totaled, and he's so sad about that. He loves that truck, and he just put a lot of money into it to get it how he wanted it. But I am so thankful he wasn't more hurt.
We opted to do a CT scan since his head was hurting and it came back clear. He got a shot for the pain and an rx for some pain meds, and they had to close his head cut. They tried gluing it at first but every time he moved his head at all or facial muscles it opened back up and started to bleed again. So once they got all the glue cleaned off, they stitched it instead...four stitches. I think I got there around 9:30 and we finally got discharged at 1:30. Neither of us had eaten anything so we went to the cafeteria to get some lunch while his prescriptions were being filled. Once we got home he got some much needed sleep. He's still feeling ok now, but I think tomorrow he will be very sore.
I don't spend a lot of time in ERs, I've went to the ER twice but was only there long enough for them to swoop me up to Ob triage when I was pregnant, and a few times I've been to another ER for my back, and once for norovirus and dehydration, also while pregnant. But those times, the ER was always pretty quiet. But today, we could hear several people groaning and yelling in pain, and not long after we got there today, we heard the doctor call out someone's time of death. That really shook me, I've been thinking about it all day. I know it happens, probably many times a day in every hospital, but to hear it for yourself, to know that another person just a few rooms down just died and that their family member was going to get that phone call 4 days before Christmas.....it's just so sad, and I am so thankful that the phone call I got today turned out with a pretty happy ending.
He's sore, he's banged up, his beloved truck is gone, but he is still here. It could have been so much worse. He wasn't wearing his seat belt, thank God for airbags. Thank God Emily wasn't with him. I'm so thankful that my dreaded morning turned out ok, but I am so sad for the family of that man or woman whose life ended today, and I am so aware of how easily that could have been our reality today.
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
Tuesday, December 20, 2016
Why do babies have to die?
I sat down at my computer tonight to work, and checked facebook first. The first post that I read, I skimmed the words "it is with heavy hearts" and I automatically knew what it was about. A friend of mine lost her baby. Another one. This is her second child to go to Heaven. She was about 15 weeks along. As if that's not horrible enough, tomorrow is the fourth anniversary of losing her first born, and of course Christmas is right around the corner.
It's so unfair. I don't know her that well. We went to high school together, I am not sure that we ever spoke back then, but she walked into the one and only evening of a support group I went to after we lost Kayla, and it was nice to see a familiar face. Since then we've been facebook friends. I like her children's pictures, relate to her posts about her son that she lost, and congratulated her on each pregnancy since. I cried for her tonight. Hearing of a pregnancy or child loss instantly resonates with me, and while no two people's pain is alike, I at least am familiar with the road they are about to embark on. So part of me cried for Kayla, as any loss is a painful reminder for me of my sweet angel. But I cried for her and the pain she is no doubt going through right now.
I had many reasons, but this was perhaps one of the biggest reasons I decided against having any more kids. I just could not go through any more heartbreak. Yes, I am missing out on the joy and love another baby would bring, but for me and where I am in my grief, the idea of the possible joy just wasn't worth the very scary and possibility of heartbreak. Emily was worth every second. I needed a child in my arms. I would have gone up against the worst odds to get her. But now that I have her, I'm done. I'm too fragile to go through that again. And this loss wasn't even related to why she lost her first son, which is the same issue I have and why I lost Kayla. Maybe I could have dealt with another pregnancy if incompetent cervix was the only thing I had to worry about....the cerclage held really well with Emily so hopefully it would have done its job again. But to know there are so many things that can go wrong, in addition to the way life already went wrong. It's maddening. I feel like any loss mom should get a free pass for any other bad thing. To be immune to anything else that can hurt you regarding your child.
Ryan and I went to see Collateral Beauty last weekend. It was good, but I did come out of the theater feeling a bit bummed. I wouldn't say the fear is paralyzing, but I definitely think about/worry about something happening to Emily every single day, and often several times a day. I am not sure how much of that is normal, every day fear that comes with the job of being a parent, and how much of it is because I've already experienced loss and I am terrified of it happening again, but this time with a little soul that I've had with me all these days, months, and years, and would absolutely die if anything happened to her. I feel like for the pain and suffering we've already been through, I wish we could get a "lifetime happiness card" guaranteeing that nothing else bad will happen concerning your children.
As I sat there, crying for her and her baby, and for myself and for Kayla, my phone was blowing up about someone's cat who is quite likely on her last few weeks of life. I get it, I love my cat, but I just couldn't right then. I couldn't hear about the trials and tribulations of a 16 year old cat who has lived a long and healthy life, that has been loved and well taken care of since she was a small kitten. I know people have a right to be sad about their dying pet, and others' worse pain doesn't negate their own, but in that moment I wanted to scream, I don't give a shit about your cat! So, obviously the anger stage is still alive and well, and not going anywhere any time soon.
Last week we took Kayla her Christmas tree, and put out a few decorations. I did ok, I didn't really cry, but I did tear up. It was bitter cold that night, and we had to clear away about a foot of snow off her grave. I hate to think that she's cold...and having to leave her in the cold, dark cemetery. I know that's stupid, it's just her body. But mothers will always worry about their babies, even in death.
Fly high baby Benjamin <3
It's so unfair. I don't know her that well. We went to high school together, I am not sure that we ever spoke back then, but she walked into the one and only evening of a support group I went to after we lost Kayla, and it was nice to see a familiar face. Since then we've been facebook friends. I like her children's pictures, relate to her posts about her son that she lost, and congratulated her on each pregnancy since. I cried for her tonight. Hearing of a pregnancy or child loss instantly resonates with me, and while no two people's pain is alike, I at least am familiar with the road they are about to embark on. So part of me cried for Kayla, as any loss is a painful reminder for me of my sweet angel. But I cried for her and the pain she is no doubt going through right now.
I had many reasons, but this was perhaps one of the biggest reasons I decided against having any more kids. I just could not go through any more heartbreak. Yes, I am missing out on the joy and love another baby would bring, but for me and where I am in my grief, the idea of the possible joy just wasn't worth the very scary and possibility of heartbreak. Emily was worth every second. I needed a child in my arms. I would have gone up against the worst odds to get her. But now that I have her, I'm done. I'm too fragile to go through that again. And this loss wasn't even related to why she lost her first son, which is the same issue I have and why I lost Kayla. Maybe I could have dealt with another pregnancy if incompetent cervix was the only thing I had to worry about....the cerclage held really well with Emily so hopefully it would have done its job again. But to know there are so many things that can go wrong, in addition to the way life already went wrong. It's maddening. I feel like any loss mom should get a free pass for any other bad thing. To be immune to anything else that can hurt you regarding your child.
Ryan and I went to see Collateral Beauty last weekend. It was good, but I did come out of the theater feeling a bit bummed. I wouldn't say the fear is paralyzing, but I definitely think about/worry about something happening to Emily every single day, and often several times a day. I am not sure how much of that is normal, every day fear that comes with the job of being a parent, and how much of it is because I've already experienced loss and I am terrified of it happening again, but this time with a little soul that I've had with me all these days, months, and years, and would absolutely die if anything happened to her. I feel like for the pain and suffering we've already been through, I wish we could get a "lifetime happiness card" guaranteeing that nothing else bad will happen concerning your children.
As I sat there, crying for her and her baby, and for myself and for Kayla, my phone was blowing up about someone's cat who is quite likely on her last few weeks of life. I get it, I love my cat, but I just couldn't right then. I couldn't hear about the trials and tribulations of a 16 year old cat who has lived a long and healthy life, that has been loved and well taken care of since she was a small kitten. I know people have a right to be sad about their dying pet, and others' worse pain doesn't negate their own, but in that moment I wanted to scream, I don't give a shit about your cat! So, obviously the anger stage is still alive and well, and not going anywhere any time soon.
Last week we took Kayla her Christmas tree, and put out a few decorations. I did ok, I didn't really cry, but I did tear up. It was bitter cold that night, and we had to clear away about a foot of snow off her grave. I hate to think that she's cold...and having to leave her in the cold, dark cemetery. I know that's stupid, it's just her body. But mothers will always worry about their babies, even in death.
Fly high baby Benjamin <3
Thursday, December 8, 2016
childhood memories
I spend a lot of time thinking about my parenting, and how my parents raised me. I often wonder if my mom watches over us, and is proud of the job I am doing as a mother. I don't know if most mothers feel this way, or if I do because I lost my mom when I was pretty young, but making lasting memories with Emily is so important to me, just in case one day I am not around for as much as her life as I should be.
Growing up, and still to this day, I was very close to my dad. We are very much alike, we agree on a lot of the same things, we have a similar personality and interests. Even as a young kid, my dad was just easier to be around. My mom expected a lot. She wanted me to be girly and frilly....maybe I wouldn't have wanted to be anyway, but I distinctly remember not wanting to be girly for the sheer reason that she tried so hard to make me that way. She was pretty hard on me...not in the punishment sense, I wasn't punished much at all as a kid, and really didn't even have a ton of responsibilities. But my mom put a lot of pressure on me. I was a good kid, I didn't get into much if any trouble at school, I got good, to very good grades, I had nice friends who weren't "bad influences", I didn't do drugs, or drink (much, we all experiment some), when I had sex for the first time it was something I thought long and hard about, resisted many instances of temptation so that my first time could be with someone I truly loved and was in a relationship with, and I even took the step of getting on birth control a few months before.
But none of that mattered to my mom. It didn't matter that I didn't drink or do drugs, my room was a mess, so I was a bad kid. Who cares that at 18, I got myself to the doctor and got myself on birth control, but I had sex before marriage, so bad bad bad. Don't get me wrong, I loved my mom, I still do and I miss her so much. But she set a very high bar for me that almost no kid could reach. But she did, so she expected me to. She was expected to reach that bar when she was young, and she apparently did, so no matter what I did, I would never be a great kid or a well-behaved kid or a responsible young lady because I didn't reach that bar.
My dad on the other hand, he just let me be. If I wanted to wear a dress, that's great. If I wanted to wear jeans and a tshirt, that's cool too. If I got a C in a class that I really struggled in, he was happy. If I skipped school, well, it was one time, no sense in making a mountain out of a molehill. I have no idea what he was thinking when my mom told him she "found" my birth control pills (scrunched up in a paper bag, at the bottom of my garbage can)....surely as a parent, no one is excited to hear this. After having two babies and married for 6 years, I am sure my dad would still happily like to believe that I am still a virgin. But he lived in the real world, he knew it was bound to happen, and at least I was in a committed relationship and I took steps to protect myself. There isn't much more a dad can hope for when it comes to their daughter having sex.
But, despite all that, when I was hurt, or sad, or didn't feel well, all I wanted in the world was my mommy. She had this amazing ability of making everything ok by just taking me in her arms and hugging me. I probably didn't paint a good picture of it above (my mom and I had a tumultuous relationship) but if I had to look back, especially during my childhood, and use one word to describe my mom, it would be nurturing. I want to be that for Emily. I want to be her safe haven, her comfy place, her place that she wants to be, no matter how old she is, when she just needs to be loved.
Although at the same time, I want to kick her ass and help her be the person I know she can be, which was my dad. It's funny because in some ways, he was so "whatever, that's not a big deal, kids will be kids" but at the same time, he pushed me to do things I was scared of, so I wasn't scared anymore. When he taught me how to drive, he used to push my leg down on the gas when I pulled out into traffic if I wasn't going fast enough. He would force me to try things I didn't want to do, at least once, no matter how much I cried and screamed and pleaded with him not to make me do it. He wanted me to try being an Acolyte at church. I was very shy, I wanted nothing to do with it, I begged and pleaded, he didn't move an inch. I tried it, and loved it. The summer I turned 16, he told me I had to get a job. I didn't want one, I was nervous, but he made me do it....I ended up loving my job, had a blast that summer, met a lot of great friends, and even met my first boyfriend there.
And then my mom, who was so hard on me with other things, was the one who would say it's ok, if you don't want to do that, you don't have to. I had a really stressful semester in college one year, and a lot of personal crap weighing on me too. I hated this one class, I wanted to drop it for no other reason than it was too much work and I was dreading the presentation we had to give at the end of the semester. My dad's advice....you have to take the class sometime, you've already put X amount of weeks in, might as well keep pushing through. My mom's advice....if you're that stressed out about it, maybe it's better to just drop it.
So I really hope that I can be all of those things for Emily. I mean, I don't want to set the bar so high that she is being set up to fail, but I want to be both the person she comes to for nurturing and comfort, and the person that doesn't let her get away with shit and push her to her potential. I have no idea if I am succeeding so far, but I think I am a pretty good balance of the two.
A lot of mornings, she watches cartoons and eats breakfast while I try to wake up, and browse facebook and timehop. Some days I am much more open to her "playing bubbles" (meaning, watch kids youtube vidoes) on my phone, because it means she sits on my lap while she watches. I just love having her warm little body close to mine, sitting and snuggling without a care in the world. I usually sit in the recliner, so my feet are hanging out right at about her waist level. When she plays or watches tv, she's often on the move, occasionally stopping to watch something....and she'll stand there and play with my feet. She'll either just stand there and hold my foot, or grab onto some toes. It sounds weird, and my husband thinks it is gross, but I just love it. I love that when she is near me, she has to be touching me and close to me in some way, even if it is just my stinky feet. I love it and I cherish it, because I know there will come a day when she no longer wants to be within an arm's length of me, and probably won't even want to talk to me or look at me. I hope we can defy the odds, I hope we can be the mother/daughter pair that can survive the tween/teenage years with our sanity mostly intact, especially because my mom and I did not. But even if we don't, I will cherish these moments, and at least have the memories of them when they stop.
With the holidays approaching, I am all about making memories and starting family traditions. My husband got a reciprocating saw last year, and has been using it quite a bit lately. One night he was out cutting some wood for a project, and it was starting to get dark out. It instantly brought me back to the nights when I was a kid, and as it was getting dark out, and my mom was in the kitchen making dinner, my dad would be outside working....either cutting things on his table saw, or using a chainsaw to cut up wood for the wood stove. Everyone always complains when time change happens and it gets dark out so early, but for me, when it's cold outside and your in the house, nice and warm, I love that it gets dark early. I guess it just brings back good memories for me.
We're embarking on our third annual outing for our Christmas tree tomorrow night. Since we've been together, we've done several different things. For a while we still used my artificial tree, once we decided to go real, some years we've had my dad bring one back for us from his tree farm up north, one year we went to a farm and cut one down, and one year Ryan brought one home from work, because one of the home improvement stores his boss had a contract with was giving away trees to employees since it was getting close to Christmas and they weren't selling as fast.
For at least the past 4 or 5 years we've been getting a tree from this farm that sets up a lot nearby. It's one of those old school lots with the string lights around the perimeter and the silver air stream camper parked on-site. I love it, brings back great memories of the tree lot my dad always took us to get our tree. For Emily's first Christmas, she was only 8 months old, so I just sat in the truck with her while Ryan picked one out, but last year we all walked the lot, picket out a tree and then went to dinner afterward. I decided to make that our yearly tradition, dinner and picking out the tree....and you have to go once it's dark so you can get the full affect of the lights strung up around the lot.
This year we have to add Emily's first hair cut to the festivities. She had an appointment a few days ago, but it was raining and yucky and cold, and well...when you're a work-at-home mom, you can do whatever the hell you want to do, and I didn't feel like going out in the rain that day. So I rescheduled for tomorrow. She's actually had several hair cuts by yours truly, and her Grammy. Her bangs grow like weeds, so we've had to keep up on those. But I do a terrible job, so assuming they don't cut them too short, I'll be excited for her to have evenly cut bangs for the first time ever. I'm also going to have them trim her hair overall a little. She has really long hair for a toddler, it's about to the middle of her back. But I've noticed the ends are really thin and scraggly, and she's almost 3 so I figured it was high time for her first official cut.
Her very first cut was actually when I cut off her rat tail around 8 months. She was born with a full head of hair, but for some reason had this little tail that grew so much faster than anything else. When I finally said screw the superstitions about cutting before one year, it was around 6 inches long when I cut it. But this will be her first official, at a salon, cut by a professional, hair cut. I'm so excited, I hope she does ok. But this place sounds great, it's especially for kids, they have a lot of games and videos, and the chairs are little cars that they can sit in while they get their hair cut. The website also boasted about how good the stylists are about working with the kids, and have even been known to walk around the salon while cutting hair, especially for special needs kids who have troubles sitting still for too long. Hopefully the experience will live up to what they claim. It's kind of funny, I booked the appointment for the baby's first hair cut package. I am not entirely sure what that entails, but I assume it lets them known it's her first cut so she'll be nervous, and probably includes a keepsake locke or something. But I feel kind of funny saying baby's first, and here will come in this walking, talking 2.5 year old. But, I think a lot of girls are much older than boys for their first hair cut. Wish us luck!
Growing up, and still to this day, I was very close to my dad. We are very much alike, we agree on a lot of the same things, we have a similar personality and interests. Even as a young kid, my dad was just easier to be around. My mom expected a lot. She wanted me to be girly and frilly....maybe I wouldn't have wanted to be anyway, but I distinctly remember not wanting to be girly for the sheer reason that she tried so hard to make me that way. She was pretty hard on me...not in the punishment sense, I wasn't punished much at all as a kid, and really didn't even have a ton of responsibilities. But my mom put a lot of pressure on me. I was a good kid, I didn't get into much if any trouble at school, I got good, to very good grades, I had nice friends who weren't "bad influences", I didn't do drugs, or drink (much, we all experiment some), when I had sex for the first time it was something I thought long and hard about, resisted many instances of temptation so that my first time could be with someone I truly loved and was in a relationship with, and I even took the step of getting on birth control a few months before.
But none of that mattered to my mom. It didn't matter that I didn't drink or do drugs, my room was a mess, so I was a bad kid. Who cares that at 18, I got myself to the doctor and got myself on birth control, but I had sex before marriage, so bad bad bad. Don't get me wrong, I loved my mom, I still do and I miss her so much. But she set a very high bar for me that almost no kid could reach. But she did, so she expected me to. She was expected to reach that bar when she was young, and she apparently did, so no matter what I did, I would never be a great kid or a well-behaved kid or a responsible young lady because I didn't reach that bar.
My dad on the other hand, he just let me be. If I wanted to wear a dress, that's great. If I wanted to wear jeans and a tshirt, that's cool too. If I got a C in a class that I really struggled in, he was happy. If I skipped school, well, it was one time, no sense in making a mountain out of a molehill. I have no idea what he was thinking when my mom told him she "found" my birth control pills (scrunched up in a paper bag, at the bottom of my garbage can)....surely as a parent, no one is excited to hear this. After having two babies and married for 6 years, I am sure my dad would still happily like to believe that I am still a virgin. But he lived in the real world, he knew it was bound to happen, and at least I was in a committed relationship and I took steps to protect myself. There isn't much more a dad can hope for when it comes to their daughter having sex.
But, despite all that, when I was hurt, or sad, or didn't feel well, all I wanted in the world was my mommy. She had this amazing ability of making everything ok by just taking me in her arms and hugging me. I probably didn't paint a good picture of it above (my mom and I had a tumultuous relationship) but if I had to look back, especially during my childhood, and use one word to describe my mom, it would be nurturing. I want to be that for Emily. I want to be her safe haven, her comfy place, her place that she wants to be, no matter how old she is, when she just needs to be loved.
Although at the same time, I want to kick her ass and help her be the person I know she can be, which was my dad. It's funny because in some ways, he was so "whatever, that's not a big deal, kids will be kids" but at the same time, he pushed me to do things I was scared of, so I wasn't scared anymore. When he taught me how to drive, he used to push my leg down on the gas when I pulled out into traffic if I wasn't going fast enough. He would force me to try things I didn't want to do, at least once, no matter how much I cried and screamed and pleaded with him not to make me do it. He wanted me to try being an Acolyte at church. I was very shy, I wanted nothing to do with it, I begged and pleaded, he didn't move an inch. I tried it, and loved it. The summer I turned 16, he told me I had to get a job. I didn't want one, I was nervous, but he made me do it....I ended up loving my job, had a blast that summer, met a lot of great friends, and even met my first boyfriend there.
And then my mom, who was so hard on me with other things, was the one who would say it's ok, if you don't want to do that, you don't have to. I had a really stressful semester in college one year, and a lot of personal crap weighing on me too. I hated this one class, I wanted to drop it for no other reason than it was too much work and I was dreading the presentation we had to give at the end of the semester. My dad's advice....you have to take the class sometime, you've already put X amount of weeks in, might as well keep pushing through. My mom's advice....if you're that stressed out about it, maybe it's better to just drop it.
So I really hope that I can be all of those things for Emily. I mean, I don't want to set the bar so high that she is being set up to fail, but I want to be both the person she comes to for nurturing and comfort, and the person that doesn't let her get away with shit and push her to her potential. I have no idea if I am succeeding so far, but I think I am a pretty good balance of the two.
A lot of mornings, she watches cartoons and eats breakfast while I try to wake up, and browse facebook and timehop. Some days I am much more open to her "playing bubbles" (meaning, watch kids youtube vidoes) on my phone, because it means she sits on my lap while she watches. I just love having her warm little body close to mine, sitting and snuggling without a care in the world. I usually sit in the recliner, so my feet are hanging out right at about her waist level. When she plays or watches tv, she's often on the move, occasionally stopping to watch something....and she'll stand there and play with my feet. She'll either just stand there and hold my foot, or grab onto some toes. It sounds weird, and my husband thinks it is gross, but I just love it. I love that when she is near me, she has to be touching me and close to me in some way, even if it is just my stinky feet. I love it and I cherish it, because I know there will come a day when she no longer wants to be within an arm's length of me, and probably won't even want to talk to me or look at me. I hope we can defy the odds, I hope we can be the mother/daughter pair that can survive the tween/teenage years with our sanity mostly intact, especially because my mom and I did not. But even if we don't, I will cherish these moments, and at least have the memories of them when they stop.
With the holidays approaching, I am all about making memories and starting family traditions. My husband got a reciprocating saw last year, and has been using it quite a bit lately. One night he was out cutting some wood for a project, and it was starting to get dark out. It instantly brought me back to the nights when I was a kid, and as it was getting dark out, and my mom was in the kitchen making dinner, my dad would be outside working....either cutting things on his table saw, or using a chainsaw to cut up wood for the wood stove. Everyone always complains when time change happens and it gets dark out so early, but for me, when it's cold outside and your in the house, nice and warm, I love that it gets dark early. I guess it just brings back good memories for me.
We're embarking on our third annual outing for our Christmas tree tomorrow night. Since we've been together, we've done several different things. For a while we still used my artificial tree, once we decided to go real, some years we've had my dad bring one back for us from his tree farm up north, one year we went to a farm and cut one down, and one year Ryan brought one home from work, because one of the home improvement stores his boss had a contract with was giving away trees to employees since it was getting close to Christmas and they weren't selling as fast.
For at least the past 4 or 5 years we've been getting a tree from this farm that sets up a lot nearby. It's one of those old school lots with the string lights around the perimeter and the silver air stream camper parked on-site. I love it, brings back great memories of the tree lot my dad always took us to get our tree. For Emily's first Christmas, she was only 8 months old, so I just sat in the truck with her while Ryan picked one out, but last year we all walked the lot, picket out a tree and then went to dinner afterward. I decided to make that our yearly tradition, dinner and picking out the tree....and you have to go once it's dark so you can get the full affect of the lights strung up around the lot.
This year we have to add Emily's first hair cut to the festivities. She had an appointment a few days ago, but it was raining and yucky and cold, and well...when you're a work-at-home mom, you can do whatever the hell you want to do, and I didn't feel like going out in the rain that day. So I rescheduled for tomorrow. She's actually had several hair cuts by yours truly, and her Grammy. Her bangs grow like weeds, so we've had to keep up on those. But I do a terrible job, so assuming they don't cut them too short, I'll be excited for her to have evenly cut bangs for the first time ever. I'm also going to have them trim her hair overall a little. She has really long hair for a toddler, it's about to the middle of her back. But I've noticed the ends are really thin and scraggly, and she's almost 3 so I figured it was high time for her first official cut.
Her very first cut was actually when I cut off her rat tail around 8 months. She was born with a full head of hair, but for some reason had this little tail that grew so much faster than anything else. When I finally said screw the superstitions about cutting before one year, it was around 6 inches long when I cut it. But this will be her first official, at a salon, cut by a professional, hair cut. I'm so excited, I hope she does ok. But this place sounds great, it's especially for kids, they have a lot of games and videos, and the chairs are little cars that they can sit in while they get their hair cut. The website also boasted about how good the stylists are about working with the kids, and have even been known to walk around the salon while cutting hair, especially for special needs kids who have troubles sitting still for too long. Hopefully the experience will live up to what they claim. It's kind of funny, I booked the appointment for the baby's first hair cut package. I am not entirely sure what that entails, but I assume it lets them known it's her first cut so she'll be nervous, and probably includes a keepsake locke or something. But I feel kind of funny saying baby's first, and here will come in this walking, talking 2.5 year old. But, I think a lot of girls are much older than boys for their first hair cut. Wish us luck!
Saturday, December 3, 2016
Long time no write
Five years ago today I got my first ever positive pregnancy test. My time hop reminded me of it because I had taken a picture of the digital test. That baby would have turned 4 this past August. Seems weird to think that I would have a 4 year old right now. Or a 3 year old if Kayla had lived. But I am ever so thankful for my 2 year old.
My stepmom's nephew needs a carseat and he doesn't have much money, so I told her he could have Emily's old bucket seats. She'll never need it again, it and the bases are cluttering up the basement and you're really not supposed to buy used seats, so I doubt I could get much if any money for them. I mentioned it to Ryan, I don't know why....I guess just to let him know. He asked if I was sure I wanted to do that, implying that we might still need them one day. Oh God, I thought we were on the same page as that, and now he sounds like he is maybe possibly considering another baby? I had planned on one or both of us getting something permanent done BC wise in the new year.
I mean, I haven't fully accepted, or I guess maybe finished mourning the idea of another baby. I still have pangs now and again, I still wish it was a perfect world where I could have another baby. My cousin posted a picture of her two daughters the other day reading a book together....the oldest is six months younger than Em, and her youngest is 5 months old. It was the sweetest picture. So yeah, I do still sometimes wish I could have another baby, meaning I would wake up tomorrow and not be of advanced maternal age, not have all of my high risk issues, not have a history of loss and the risk of experiencing that same loss.
But, I do. So for those reasons and others, I don't want another. I think it is normal to grieve the loss of not having another, even if you don't really want one. But I know I am done, because the idea of taking OPKs all the time, and temping, and taking pregnancy tests, and experiencing the awful let down every month that it's negative, and then the joy and fear once you do get pregnant, and then the fatigue and exhaustion of trying to keep up with Emily while pregnant.... Freaking out every time I have a cramp, or I spot, that awful feeling when the worry sets in and you think, why wouldn't I lose this baby, why wouldn't more bad things happen to me?
My job is only getting more and more in-depth and I will only be gaining more responsibilities and hours in the future, we have no other place to put my home office so that another baby could have this room, and Emily's room is barely big enough for her, let alone sharing a room with a sibling. Like, all of that just doesn't even seem to be in the realm of possibility any more. I am done.
So, we took Emily to see Santa today. Second year in a row it did not go well. Her first year she was too young to be upset, she just sat on his lap, looking at him like whoooo are you???? Last year she was shy and upset and wouldn't let me put her down, but she would at least sit on my lap while I sat next to him. Of course I hadn't planned on being in the picture, so I looked like crap. This year I assumed I would have to be in it so I dressed nice and did my hair and make up, but she threw such a fit, she wouldn't even sit on my lap for a decent picture. I guess we'll try again next year.
We took her to her first movie a few weeks ago, we saw Trolls. We were going to wait until she was like 4, but then I thought, eh, she does really well in public, she had been getting excited every time she saw the Trolls commercial....and most people wait to take their first to a movie, but what do they do with subsequent children? They don't stop going to movies, so the younger sibs go whenever. So we went on a weekday, the earliest show they had. There were only like 5 other families there. She did good. She enjoyed her candy and food, and she seemed to like the movie. I told her she had to whisper if she had to say something, but every time she talked she spoke in her normal voice. But the movie was loud so likely no one heard her, and she's a kid at a kid movie, so whatever.
She did ask to go potty once, but I didn't think to grab my purse which has her fold up potty seat in it, and she is too afraid of big commercial potties, so it was an unsuccessful trip. But other than that she did great. I doubt we'll be in any rush to take her again soon. I couldn't relax quite as well as I would have liked, worried about her making noise or needing the potty and making sure she had her food, and didn't spill, etc. So unless something comes out that she would absolutely love, we'll probably just wait for the drive-in this summer. I'd like to take her to the new Beauty and the Beast coming out since she loves the animated one, but being that is has real people in it, I am not sure it will hold her interest, so we'll just catch it on DVD. I think I might make Ryan take me to see it though :)
My stepmom's nephew needs a carseat and he doesn't have much money, so I told her he could have Emily's old bucket seats. She'll never need it again, it and the bases are cluttering up the basement and you're really not supposed to buy used seats, so I doubt I could get much if any money for them. I mentioned it to Ryan, I don't know why....I guess just to let him know. He asked if I was sure I wanted to do that, implying that we might still need them one day. Oh God, I thought we were on the same page as that, and now he sounds like he is maybe possibly considering another baby? I had planned on one or both of us getting something permanent done BC wise in the new year.
I mean, I haven't fully accepted, or I guess maybe finished mourning the idea of another baby. I still have pangs now and again, I still wish it was a perfect world where I could have another baby. My cousin posted a picture of her two daughters the other day reading a book together....the oldest is six months younger than Em, and her youngest is 5 months old. It was the sweetest picture. So yeah, I do still sometimes wish I could have another baby, meaning I would wake up tomorrow and not be of advanced maternal age, not have all of my high risk issues, not have a history of loss and the risk of experiencing that same loss.
But, I do. So for those reasons and others, I don't want another. I think it is normal to grieve the loss of not having another, even if you don't really want one. But I know I am done, because the idea of taking OPKs all the time, and temping, and taking pregnancy tests, and experiencing the awful let down every month that it's negative, and then the joy and fear once you do get pregnant, and then the fatigue and exhaustion of trying to keep up with Emily while pregnant.... Freaking out every time I have a cramp, or I spot, that awful feeling when the worry sets in and you think, why wouldn't I lose this baby, why wouldn't more bad things happen to me?
My job is only getting more and more in-depth and I will only be gaining more responsibilities and hours in the future, we have no other place to put my home office so that another baby could have this room, and Emily's room is barely big enough for her, let alone sharing a room with a sibling. Like, all of that just doesn't even seem to be in the realm of possibility any more. I am done.
So, we took Emily to see Santa today. Second year in a row it did not go well. Her first year she was too young to be upset, she just sat on his lap, looking at him like whoooo are you???? Last year she was shy and upset and wouldn't let me put her down, but she would at least sit on my lap while I sat next to him. Of course I hadn't planned on being in the picture, so I looked like crap. This year I assumed I would have to be in it so I dressed nice and did my hair and make up, but she threw such a fit, she wouldn't even sit on my lap for a decent picture. I guess we'll try again next year.
We took her to her first movie a few weeks ago, we saw Trolls. We were going to wait until she was like 4, but then I thought, eh, she does really well in public, she had been getting excited every time she saw the Trolls commercial....and most people wait to take their first to a movie, but what do they do with subsequent children? They don't stop going to movies, so the younger sibs go whenever. So we went on a weekday, the earliest show they had. There were only like 5 other families there. She did good. She enjoyed her candy and food, and she seemed to like the movie. I told her she had to whisper if she had to say something, but every time she talked she spoke in her normal voice. But the movie was loud so likely no one heard her, and she's a kid at a kid movie, so whatever.
She did ask to go potty once, but I didn't think to grab my purse which has her fold up potty seat in it, and she is too afraid of big commercial potties, so it was an unsuccessful trip. But other than that she did great. I doubt we'll be in any rush to take her again soon. I couldn't relax quite as well as I would have liked, worried about her making noise or needing the potty and making sure she had her food, and didn't spill, etc. So unless something comes out that she would absolutely love, we'll probably just wait for the drive-in this summer. I'd like to take her to the new Beauty and the Beast coming out since she loves the animated one, but being that is has real people in it, I am not sure it will hold her interest, so we'll just catch it on DVD. I think I might make Ryan take me to see it though :)
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