A Note from Mama

Hey folks. A quick, short word and a picture for you today. The picture is our family Christmas picture:

And the note is to tell you all that I probably won't be posting as often in the coming week or two. Why? You ask... well a couple of reasons. One, Josh goes back to his Birth Dad's house today, and therefore my life will be extremely boring and uneventful for the next 2 weeks. Two, If you look closely at the photo above, you'll notice a raised bump on my right wrist/top of hand. Well as of yesterday, that "bump" is twice in size almost and hurts like hell. I am typing one handed and self editing as I go, and it's taking for.ever. I'll tell y'all more about my ganglion cyst (look it up or wait for my explanation) later, but for now, I need to rest it. It's throbbing and achy, and I'm cranky and not looking forward to taking Josh to day care so his Birth Dad can pick him up.

~Miranda

Wordful Wednesday

 Every year Chris and I buy a special Christmas ornament to celebrate our life together. Our first Christmas, I bought him 2. The one pictured above and also a cute little bear holding a key that says "New Home 2007" or something like that (I guess I could go look, but no, I'm already typing, screw it.) Anyways, we buy one every year, 3 years together - we should have 3, right? Well 4, because our first year I bought 2. Right? No. We have 9 "special" ornaments on our tree. Besides all the others (Josh gets a new one every year too), we have three times the special ornaments we should have. Let's see... we have the:

First Christmas Together heart (pictured)
New Home 2007 (from when he bought the house that November)
Disneyland Castle ball (from our 1st trip together)
Lenox bride and groom (from when we got married)
Mickey & Minnie Bride and Groom (from honeymoon @ Disneyland)
2 different wine glass ornaments (we love wine, what can I say)
Silver bells ornament (with little fake gemstones! lol)
Fireplace with stockings ornament 2009 with fake rubies (to match the silver bells, maybe?)

Seriously. Nothin like going a little overboard. Oh well - welcome to my life.

Here is Joshua's favorite ornament (his from last year)

Candy Canes are made by Satan.

Yesterday, 4pm. I check on Da Boy who was playing in his room, now he's asleep. Greeeaat. We are supposed to be going to get pizza at 4:45 so that we can have it at home when Mr. Man gets there from work at 5pm. I wake DB at 4:30 and tell him "You can wear your jammies, but we gotta get your boots on so we can go get pizza." I carry him into the dining room and start working on his boots. They don't want to go on, with his footed jammies, but we finally get it done. I stand up and he says "Mommy, I wan Anny Ain!"(candy cane) I say "Alright here, you can have the rest of the one you started earlier (the crook part)" I hand it to him and he looks at me like I'm nuts. I think Oh boy, what now? Oh please don't, we gotta go! He gets that look - you know the one, where his eyes get all big and he slowly starts to pout? Yeah.... sigh. "What's wrong, hunny? That's your candy cane. Here let me unwrap it for you and lets go.

It's now 4:38.

"I don wan dis one, mom I wan udder part." He says trying to hand it back.
"Son, just take that part, it's the half you didn't eat yet, you don't need another one, eat that one. Let's go" I pick him up and start carrying him to the car. I actually got him inside the back seat and half way into his car-seat before he freaked out. He starts crying and screaming "Anny Ain" and "NO" at me and wriggling, struggling, trying to get out of his seat, as I'm trying to fasten his 5 point harness. I get one arm in, he slips it out when I start on the other arm. He goes 'stiff as a board' on me and I can't do anything. He's crying, I'm red in the face and still saying "No son, get in your seat, let me buckle you in, you are hurting yourself STOP!" to no avail. Finally, I just gave up. I looked at him and let me just say for the record... I could have really really lost it. I let him go, and closed the door with him in the car. I went back into the house and got the stupid friggin candy cane. I bring it back and unwrap it, and go to hand it to him and he's sitting there, pretty as a picture in his seat, tear streaked with snot sliding down his face. "Ank you Mommy". I told him "Yeah you'd better say thank you because that's the last candy cane you're ever gonna see you got that?" "Awwight, Mama, dat's awwight."

Sigh. So now I'm crying, he's fine and it's 4:56. Tried to call Chris on the phone, but couldn't get him, so I try to leave and realize I don't have the stupid garage door clicker. I pull out of the garage, turn off the car, take the keys inside and close the garage door. Walk through the house, go out the front and now I can't get the door to lock, the key won't turn. AAAAHHHRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGG! Seriously?!? Really?!? FINE. Back to the car, he is just going at his candy cane and talking to himself like everythings perfect and I'm now the one having the meltdown. I start driving down out street, it's snowing like hell and I can barely see anything.

5:06pm We finally get to the pizza place, get the pizza. DB says "Can I get a ball?" (he always gets a bouncy ball there) and I say "Not on your life kid" and the pizza lady looks at me. I smile. She looks down and raises her eyebrows.  I take a deep breath, pay for the pizza, grab it and DB's hand and get the hell out of there. As we drove back, the snow stopped and by the time we pulled into the driveway Chris is there. He says "You could have waited, we could have all gone together."

Have you ever heard the sound of your own head imploding? I have, happened last night.

He hurt your what?!

This morning Da Boy woke up with this nasty rasping cough. He stumbled into the kitchen and climbed up on me as I tried to hug him. I took him to the couch and we were cuddling (me asking how do you feel, does your throat hurt, all that jazz) and Sora, our little orange tabby, decides to climb up and lay down on DB's tummy.
DB pets him for a minute and then  abruptly picks him up and tosses him to the floor.

Me: "Son, why did you do that?"
DB: "Him sit on me. Mom, I has doe peepee."
Me: "Ok, lets go."

We walk to the bathroom and as DB is unzipping his Lightning McQueen footed jammies, he grabs his privates and declares "Mama.... Ora hurt my peanut!"

Me: (laughing) "He hurt your what?"
DB: "No, my peawon."
Me: "You mean your penis?"
DB: "Oh. (giggle) yeah, my peamiss"

 At least this time he didn't ask me to kiss it better. About a year ago he did ask me to kiss it, because he hurt himself, and I told him no, I wouldn't and he tried to kiss it himself!  Ahh, to be a mom of a boy.

And what do You want for Christmas?

I asked Da Boy this the other day and here was his answer (mind you I am also asking this everyday to see what else he comes up with)

DB: "I wan a nooboard."
Me: "A snowboard??! Son, how old are you?"
DB: "Oor" He holds up four fingers
Me: "Double that number and we'll talk"
DB: "I weally wan a noboard, I can had my weindeer push it. Dey had big horns!"
Me: "You don't have any reindeer."
DB: "A-o can do it!"
Me: "You want Adso to pull you on a snowboard?"
DB: "Yeah, like Anna Cause"
Me: "Like Santa Clause... Baby I think you mean a sled. You want a sled, not a snowboard."
DB: "Oh. Yeah." as he starts laughing.

We've had exactly this conversation twice now, once with the "nooboard" and once with a "kayboard"

Ud Morring Mom

The following is the conversation I had with Da Boy about 10 minutes ago as I was sitting quietly (so as not to wake him up) at the computer, reading another blog.
P.S. - I type Da Boy's responses phonetically.

Bedroom door opens and closes.
DB: "Hey! Heyyyyyyy"
Me: "Good morning Baby, how are you?"
DB: "I need doe peepee"
Me: "Ok, well let's go."

We get into the bathroom, he's taking off his Buzz Lighyear pjs and teeny red boxer-briefs.
DB: "You hold my bes rens, Mom?" His best friends being his blanky, a purple hot wheel, a beanie baby giraffe and a bouncy ball.
Me: "Yeah, I'll hold them"
DB: "Mom, you had ud morring mom? I had ud morring awwww day."
Me: giggle. "Yeah Josh I've had a good morning so far, thanks."
DB: "I had ud morring and you had ud morring and Dad had ud morring. Where Dad?"
Me: "Dad's at work, remember he worked early today? He'll be home in a couple hours."
DB: "I aww done now" as he gets up and starts getting his pjs back on. "Ora and ah o had ud morring too." (meaning Sora and Adso our cats)
Me: "Oh yes I'm sure they have."
DB: taking back his toys "Mom, you may me haddy and I wud you. But dees my bes rens."
Me: "I love you too son, and you make ME very happy also."  As we walk down the hallway to the living room holding hands.

God I love this kid!! I haven't seen him in 2 weeks (his birth dad and I share custody, 2 weeks at a time) and I've missed him soooo much. I hate the situation, everybody hates it, including Da Boy, but for now it's how it has to be. Oh, I took pics of him in the bath last night...(no, not that kind!!) enjoy.

Love at first sight

A few pictures, as promised, so you can all see what fascinatingly normal looking people we are (and that will thus be the end of you thinking we are anywhere near normal)

Intro To My New Blog..oh yay.

Not that I'm not excited to start a new blog - don't get me wrong - I just seem to be on the 'ugh' side of it right now. I had all these great things I was ready to post about all day today. I finally get Da Boy and Mr. Man in bed, my Irish tea all hot and sweet, a new blog set up with a pretty layout, and bam - I can't think of a single thing to type. Oh. Well, I guess I could introduce myself...

I am Miranda. I'm 30 years old and I live in Northern Nevada. I am married to Mr. Man, who is 11 years my senior, and I'm mom to Da Boy, who (as of October) is 4. I'm also step-mom (or monster, depends on who you ask) to Sissy T, who is 19. We have 2 cats: Adso is the dark, beautiful, pain in the butt (you'll see pics) and Sora is the smaller, ugly, cuddly, stinky pain in the butt. I work at the church that our family attends taking care of the toddlers during the week, and I try to spend my weekends with my family. I'm very crafty (crochet mostly) and I love photography and web/graphics design. I read a lot, and I don't really like TV too much. I have a great sense of humor, but no one ever gets my jokes. I can be very cynical and pessimistic, but I'm usually pretty easy-going.

~ A little background ~
For those of you that don't know me (probably most of you) here's a little background, just so you aren't totally lost by the first paragraph in my next post.

I've been married before and Mr. man is not Da Boy's birth father. Mr. Man and I have now been married approximately 1 1/2 years. HOWEVER - I constantly refer to Mr. Man as Josh's dad, so try to keep up. Also, both of my parents have gone on to glory, so when you see me talking about visiting family or parents, they aren't mine, they belong to my hubby. Since most readers more than likely gave up reading this after the first sentence, I'm gonna leave it here and move on. ;)

~M

Heavy Hearted

So many things I've wanted to blog about here in the last few weeks. None of which I have. Lack of time, motivation, and believing that anyone could possibly understand. So, I'm gonna put them all here, right now and let it go. I can't hold it all in anymore, I just can't. So, I'm giving it to you, God, and whoever else ends up reading this drivel.

I'll start with Josh, since he's been on my mind so much lately. My son's 4th birthday was on October 10th. He was with his Dad. Again. The last time I saw him on his birthday was his FIRST birthday. I hate this. I hate the fact that I can't see him whenever I want, that he even has to go away from me. I don't want to share him - he's MY son!! I feel like a little kid saying "It isn't fair!" But damnit - it isn't.
My feelings: sad, lonely, selfish, angry, depressed.
Sum it up: I feel like a bad mom.


Next let's move on to the fact that I'm STILL not pregnant. I don't know if it's me, Chris, or God - but this is getting redundant. I'm ready to give up - completely. We can't get pregnant.... I don't want to do the IVF, I don't want to adopt. I want my husband to get me pregnant so that I can give birth to OUR child. I'm desperately sick of hearing that "so and so is pregnant and they weren't even trying!" Yeah, great, wonderful. I don't want to go anywhere anymore, because whenever and wherever we go - I see nothing but pregnant women and teeny brand new babies.

Now let's head on over to my blank prayer journal.  At church we started the "40 days of Prayer" series. Now mind you, I've been praying daily since we started going to church, and I'm actually kinda proud of myself for how well I'd been doing with it. After the first installment of the series, I went home and created my very own 'prayer journal'. I was like "Oh yeah! Go me! This is gonna be awesome!!" Yeeeaaaah. I wrote in it once. TWO WEEKS LATER. Seriously. What kind of a loser AM I? *sigh* I'm still praying, but the writing bit? Just can't seem to pull it off. I don't know why - I love writing (not that you'd have noticed, right?) but for some reason, I just can't get myself in gear to write my prayers down to God.

Changes

Why must things always change, right when I'm getting used to them? What IS that? Is it me? Seems like everytime I get into something, I start feeling comfortable and then WHAM! the whole thing gets turned upside down and inside out.

What am I talking about? I'm talking about my church. Which also happens to be my workplace. *sigh* Before Chris and I started going to CVC, we hadn't been going to church at all. Our previous church was out of the question; the people were rude, the church did nothing but ask for money, and it just wasn't working out - we weren't learning anything. We didn't 'feel' it.

The first time I went to CVC, I didn't really want to go. I didn't want to have to deal with the whole 'give God your money and you'll go to heaven' rigamorol. So, I took a deep breath and waited for it to come. It never did. I spent that hour and a half entranced by the music, the fellowship, the sermon. Mostly, I was entranced by the Pastor. Everything he said that day was designed specifically for me and about the things that were going on it my life. Right then and there I knew I'd found it. Finally, I'd found my "home church". I re-affirmed my pledge to Jesus and haven't looked back once. So many things in my life have changed since then. God has been working overtime in my life. Every Saturday, we go to church, and every Saturday I learn something, about God, about the bible, about myself.

Pastor John has changed my life. I am totally ok with that change. The change I'm having trouble with is this...

He's leaving. They've changed the name of the church from Carson Valley Christian Center to LifePoint Church. Why? I have no idea. I'm a little distressed about the name change, but I can live with it (Why on Earth would they chose 'Life Point' when there are 15 kazillion churches called that?) What I'm having trouble with is the fact that the one person who has EVER been able to lead me to Jesus and KEEP me there is going away. It may sound absurd but I feel a bit abandoned. Like a Dad who decides that he doesn't want to live with his wife and kids anymore, and says he's leaving. Maybe it's because I had just found God for the first time about a month before my Dad passed away. I don't know - and that's not something I'm inclined to get into right here right now. All I know is that all this is changing and I'm stressed about it. I can't stop thinking about this, and I don't know what to do. I can't change it, I know that. I need to change my reaction to it. But how? I've been praying about it everyday since I found out, and yet God doesn't seem to want to help me work it out. I don't even know where Pastor John is going, I just know he's leaving. Who is going to be our new Pastor? I have an idea, but I pray and hope that I'm wrong. If I'm not, I know for a fact that several families will not be attending church there any longer. Ours will be one of them, I'm afraid.  I don't want to leave CVC, uh, LifePoint, but we'll have to see what happens I guess. I'm not going to quit my new job, I can tell you that for sure!! But what if when the new Pastor starts up, the church loses that 'feel'? *sigh* I really don't know what to do, think, feel, etc... and I don't know who I can talk to about it, besides God, and he doesn't seem to want to chat about it.

Home Sweet Home

I love my home... not 'just' my home, but my house. It's not massive or brand new or custom. It doesn't have a bay window, or a garden tub in the 'master bath'.  You know what it has? Way more than any of that...

We've completely re-painted the living room, dining room, Josh's room, and the guestroom. We've torn out all the carpet in the entryway and had pergo flooring put in - AND a brand new 'princess' style glass door. We've re-painted the bathroom cabinets and trim. We've painted and faux'd the fireplace. New doors on all the rooms and closets, with new doorknobs and hardware to match. We've poured our hearts and souls into this house, and you know what? It's better than any new house. Why? Because my family lives here. We've made memories here that will never be forgotten. I'm damn proud of this place, and when I look around the rooms .. I know I am blessed.

I am blessed to have such a kind, loving, understanding husband. I'm blessed to have a bright, happy, healthy son. I am blessed to be breathing, to have laughter in my life, to have my family, my friends, and my life. I am blessed to have the church I go to , that is teaching me to be in right relationship with my God. I am blessed to have this house... and everything that goes along with it.

Day of Firsts

Today is the first day...

of my new job

of having a 100% non-smoking house (inside)

of our 2 weeks with Da Boy

of my step-daughter being 19

of me wearing my new jeans that I bought for work

of the rest of my life.

See, I realized something today - there are a lot of firsts everyday. Not just today... but yesterday, and tomorrow too. I've also realized that no matter how different from everyone else I feel - I'm not really all that different. Today I found a blog by one of my friends. (I call her a friend, yet I've no idea how she feels about me) Anyway, I found her blog. I started reading it, and noticed that, even though I felt like she was superior to me in any number of ways... she's not perfect. She's got her own set of problems and issues and questions - some of which I've been through myself!! So, needless to say, I started thinking, and praying. Then I came across an email from a friend. One of those "forwards" that everyone gets, with a list of ways to live your life and be happy. Here it is...

1. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.

2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.

3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone...

4. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch

5. Pay off your credit cards every month.

6. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.

7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.

8. It's OK to get angry with God. He can take it.

9. Save for retirement starting with your first pay check.

10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.

11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.

12. It's OK to let your children see you cry.

13. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.

14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it.

15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.

16. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.

17. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.

18. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.

19. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.

20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.

21. Burn the candles and celebrate  Don't save it for a special occasion.

22. Over prepare, then go with the flow.

23. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.

24. The most important sex organ is the brain.

25. No one is in charge of your happiness but you.

26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words: 'In five years, will this matter?'

27. Always choose life.

28. Forgive everyone everything.

29. What other people think of you is none of your business.

30. Time heals almost everything. Give time time.

31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.

32. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.

33. Believe in miracles.

34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn't do.

35. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.

36. Growing old is part of living.

37. Your children get only one childhood.

38. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.

39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.

40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.

41. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.

42. The best is yet to come.

43. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.

44. Yield.

45. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift.


Makes a bit of sense doesn't it? So, big "thank yous" go out to God, for the rapid response on my childish behavior, to my un-named "friend" for showing me that not only are you 'not' perfect, but that you're still great and so am I. ;) And also to my BFF Loue - for interrupting this journal entry with two, yes TWO Kermit the Frog (Gorf?) youtube videos. I love you, sis.

Up, down, and all around

Why don't people list their high school(s) on Facebook? Seriously?! I've been trying to find my childhood BFF for about 6 years now, and it's making me crazy. I did get lucky in one respect though - I managed to find her brother (who listed his high school, thank you very much). So, I send him a little note, asking about her, if she's on FB and if he could connect us. About 4 gut wrenching days later, in which I've convinced myself his reply will be "I'm sorry but she passed away" (haha), I get a reply. "She's on FB, here's her email." OMG!! YAY! I click over to the 'find friends' deal, and pop in her email addy - no go. Not listed on FB. I dash back over to the message from her bro and shoot back "are you sure you spelled it right?" He comes back with "yes, and here is her other email that she has listed." YES!! I go back to the other page, pop in THAT addy and click. Nope. My shoulders slump, my brow creases and I sit here chewing on my lower lip, trying both addresses over and over. I go to Myspace, and try - nothin.

Come ON! You gotta be kiddin me. There are two people on FB that come up when look up her name - one has a pic. Red hair,glasses, smiling, baby with her. Yeah, I think, it 'could' be her. Last time I saw her she was blond, with braces, but that was 14 years ago. I have a terrible memory, granted, but still.

So now I'm sitting here waiting for her brother to get back to me. I can't focus on anything else. I've been going back and forth with my sister on instant messaging, chatting about the "maybe I'm pregnant, maybe it's pms" topic. As I type this, I've checked FB about fourteen bajillion times, hoping to see the little 1 in a blue circle by the inbox button - and growl everytime it's not there. *growl, sigh*

Still trying, still failing

Chris and I have been trying to get pregnant for over a year now. Well, ok precisely a year now. Obviously, this anniversary means that we haven't been able to accomplish our goal yet. Just found out a friend from our church is pregnant. I'm so excited for her, yet just for a second there, when we heard the news, my heart broke a little. I couldn't help it. I'm so very happy for them!! I just wish I didn't have that minuscule pang of jealously. I know that God is in charge and it's His will and not mine that controls my life. It's so hard sometimes for me though - hard to "let it go" and hard to have faith. One day, I hope I can post here that I am expecting - until then... *sigh*

Here is a letter I found, written by one of the TTCer's on CafeMom.com Made me feel a little better.



To the women that have been trying to conceive for months and years...you are the strongest women in the world!!

DH and I have only been trying a few months and it is so hard. Drink my glass of wine to get my body to relax, force my husband to have sex because it is time (normally you cant get your husband off you, now you are "forcing"), then you have sex and put your butt up in the air (which would normally make you feel like a damn fool, drink a cup of green tea (cause that is what you heard helps the process somehow). Rub a lucky rabbits foot and wait........and wait......every time you get nausea you think "maybe, just maybe it worked this time", everytime you feel more tired then normal, everytime your boobs are more sensitive then normal....everytime......and wait.

All you do is hope and pray, lets not forget the total opposite reaction, the one where you start calling yourself a fool because you don't want to go through it again. Get your hopes up, ("But I feel different, can I be pregnant?") You tell yourself that it wasn't the right time, you didn't keep your ass up long enough, maybe your temp dropped....and wait.

Your husband doesn't understand, he only hopes you are pregnant so he can enjoy sex again. He doesn't realize the agony that you live for weeks, the tears that stream down your face as you look at the 100th test telling you (not-pregnant). You are terrified to have to go through it all over again.

And yet you do. Do you have any idea, I mean really, the strength to go through that? Over and over again?? You are amazing women!

So I send out a prayer to all you Mama's to be!!!! May God bless you with the babies that you have worked so hard to conceive.

Just remember that when your kid is 14 and screams at you "you probably wish I was never born" you have a thick book of notes and ovulation dates and your temperature and hand it to them saying......"You are all I ever wanted!!"

I'm still here

For a few hours there, I had some doubts, but alas, here I am.

Wednesday, lunchtime:
Chris and I are hanging out after eating. I drop a napkin, bend to pick it up, and fall to my knees bent over screaming. I'm in so much pain... I can't think! Lower abdomen, hell - my WHOLE abdomen - cramped up so horribly I couldn't un-bend. It was so over-whelming that Chris had to keep telling me to breathe. I couldn't focus enough to breathe. After about 10 minutes (100 hours at least, I swear) he manages to get me back up on the couch. I'm crying, screaming, can't move, can't stop moving. I'm thinking "I'm dying... this is it - it's got to be. You can't hurt this much and not be dying." Finally after maybe 1/2 an hour, it's getting better, I can almost stand up halfway. He helps me to bed, but I can't lay down. Finally, I'm down, on my side, crying still. Josh is there, he's freaking out because he doesn't understand what's wrong with mommy. Chris calls work and stays home with Josh so I can rest.

Wednesday, dinnertime:
It's been a few hours, I'm feeling better. A little. I don't want Chris to know how much it actually hurts, so I keep saying "No, hunny, it's just a pulled muscle, I'm sure. No, I'm not going to the hospital for a pulled muscle. He finally puts his foot down when I about fall over again, trying to stand up. We grab Josh and head to the ER. We sign in, get me in a wheel-chair and are planted in the waiting room.

Wednesday, almost midnight:
Josh has never made me more proud of him. 4 hours in the waiting room and he's not made anyone insane. Such a good boy. We are finally in an ER room, doctors are testing me. I get an IV - electrolytes and pain-killer (can't remember the name of the stuff, but OMG it was some crazy sh**) Pap-smear, two different ultrasounds, and a CT scan later - they tell us that I have a ruptured ovarian cyst and am bleeding internally. Going to have to do surgery. Chris takes Josh to the day-care lady's house. He's still awake and being very good, but he's tired and worried and bored.

Thursday, 5:00 am:
The on-call OB/GYN is here, prepping me for laprascopic surgery. My first surgery ever, period. I'm terrified, but I don't want Chris to know. He looks so solid, so strong, and I want to be too. The last thing I remember is a voice saying "breathe deep" and the doctor saying "I'm right here, don't worry, you're going to be alright now"

Thursday 9:00 am:
We are leaving the hospital. When I woke up from the surgery, Chris was there. I was there. I honestly didn't expect to be there. The nurses explained everything and ran a few more tests. Told me that the Doctor fixed me up, didn't have to take my ovary, and the bleeding cyst was gone and the rupture cauterized. We get into the car (God it still hurts like crazy!!) and we get half-way home. I make Chris pull over at the gas station so I can throw-up (luckily I didn't) and then we go to see Josh since it's his day to go back to his dad's. He comes out to the car, but he won't hug me, just looks at me all worried. "I'm ok, baby, Mommy's alright now, just hurting a little is all" I tell him... he doesn't listen, just walks back to the house with his head down.

Thursday, dinnertime:
I weigh more than 10 pounds more than I did when I went to the hospital 24 hours earlier. I have band-aids on my belly button and the most brilliant bruise on my arm from the IV. It's a miracle I'm alive, yet all I can think of is my bruises, bloating, and scars.

My son

Joshua. He's the light in my life, the only thing that has held me together since the very first moment I saw him. That was 3 and 1/2 years ago. He was big for a newborn, but tiny in my arms. I'll never forget the bruises on his face from his journey to this world. His pain was mine, and I cried along with him in those first few moments. Now, as I watch him putting a puzzle together I am reminded of his first day. The look of fierce determination on his face now, is the exact same look I saw as he tried to 'latch on' for the first time. God how I love this child. My favorite picture from that very first day...



His foot was the exact length of my fore finger on my left hand. I'll never forget that. Now it's as long as my entire hand. I can hardly believe he'll be 4 this year, yet sometimes he looks at me and I feel like I've known him all of my life. There is an understanding there, an insight that he has... he knows me. Unconditional love. That is what I have for him - but more... that is what we share.