Ecclesiastes Chapter III

I debated going to bed like I should and drinking a glass of wine and writing. Guess which won? Maybe I am more upset than I should be or maybe I am just so in denial and shock I need to write because that is what gets me going, gets me through. I'm so private and different in my shell but my writing opens me up. I guess only another writer or musician could understand exactly how that works but somehow it works for us.

One thing I really don't talk a lot about is my belief in God, my views on religion, my interpretation of the bible. Sure I will get into a good debate with anyone over anything great and speak my mind, but that's different than talking about it. So sometimes I write about it. Not so much directly, but as a writer. Which I guess is one of the things God intended or at least enabled me to do, to become.

And so, as I have done before from so many other writers, I quote:

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck
up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build
up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
What profit hath he that worketh in that wherein he laboureth?
I have seen the travail, which God hath given to the sons of men
to be exercised in it.
He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end. I know that there is no good in them, but for a man to rejoice, and to do good in his life. And also that every man should eat and drink, and enjoy the
good of all his labour, it is the gift of God. I know that, whatsoever God doeth, it shall be for ever: nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it: and God doeth it, that men should fear before him.
That which hath been is now; and that which is to be hath already been; and God requireth that which is past. And moreover I saw under the sun the place of judgment, that wickedness was there; and the place of righteousness, that iniquity was there. I said in mine heart, God shall judge the righteous and the wicked: for
there is a time there for every purpose and for every work. I said in mine heart concerning the estate of the sons of men, that God might manifest them, and that they might see that they themselves are beasts. For that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts; even one thing befalleth them:
as the one dieth, so dieth the other; yea, they have all one breath; so that
a man hath no preeminence above a beast: for all is vanity. All go unto one place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again. Who knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward, and the spirit of the beast that goeth downward to the earth?
Wherefore I perceive that there is nothing better, than that a man should
rejoice in his own works; for that is his portion: for who shall bring
him to see what shall be after him?

And so I end quote.

What now, what next in our life to look upon to make us stronger to form our
being? Seems so silly to wonder why when there never is a why to the way- or so it
has always seemed to me.I believe in things we can't see. Sometimes its good things and sometimes it is not. Sometimes we only see what we want and sometimes there are things we cannot see.(side note- why can't I fucking unblock the font? Stupid smarter computer. Or did I unblock it? Hmmm... Anyway.)

I am a little angry tonight. A little pissed off. A lot sad. Even more so in shock. And I feel- get this- ashamed for having these feelings.

I had my biopsy today and things were worse than anticipated and so in one week from today I'm going to go to the hospital and have my entire cervix remove. Press Delete Here.

I feel guilty because things were worse and maybe a little on the bad side (to me at least) but not bad in comparison to the possibilities. I feel guilty because so many people have much worse news and actually have something to be sad about. I spent the earlier half of the day rejoicing and thinking "oh is that all?" In some sort of stupor, denial, drunken-off-news-state-of-being.

1. It's just pre-cancerous cells, otherwise known only as Stage 0 Cancer. Get that 0 there? 0.

2. It's just my cervix- I am thirty-one, married, and have three beautiful and perfectly healthy children. I don't need any more. Was not planning on having anymore.

3. Thank you God for giving me Little D so much sooner than anticipated. I could have missed out on such a beautiful thing if we would have waited as we were trying to. See you really do know what is best. What is to come. And why we deal with it when we do.

Which then later turned to

4. Omigodyouareremovingmywhatandwhy and how exactly does that work?

5. Um, Insurance please?

and finally

6. (Pearl Jam/Drum roll here) I'm still alive.

And I will see my children get older and wiser and bigger than me so what do I have to complain about? Take the damn thing. I don't need it anymore. If I was not trying to run, you know, a business and all and like, I didn't have three young children I would encourage you to take the other half (the Uterus) with it now instead of later.

The doctor held my hand and acknowledged this was scary and his eyes promised he would take care of me and I lightly skirted around the real subject and started asking every question but. I danced on home (well, limped a little the biopsy fucking hurt and yes it still hurts why am I sitting in this chair- eat and go to bed already). I went through my night. I eventually let things sink in and then I got slightly angry. And so the story goes and so here I am. And here I go. Off to eat. To bed. To cuddle with two or three of my offspring while I pray I sleep through the cramping and try not to think about what Monday brings. For there is a time and a purpose and I have to believe that and so I do.

This Week In History

So, it's been a week of new beginnings, inner discoveries, growth, change, and the usual hardship.


One ending leads to another beginning and again change has occurred before we even realized it. Perhaps before we accepted it, but yet it still comes.


T started Kindergarten, L moved up to to the "big girl" classroom, and tomorrow D will turn one.


I remember one year ago today. At this moment I was counting the minutes of the contractions as the regularly came after months of denial that this time was coming. After weeks of full bed-rest. After days of denial turned to joy turned to fear, the time was coming. And just like the previous two labors it was exactly thirty-seven weeks to the day and I knew this was it. I also knew I had time. I had the night.

I did not sleep at all, although I knew I should. I knew I would need the energy for the long hard labor to come- considering it would probably not be any easier than the previous two. Little did I know it would be even harder. I lied quietly on the couch, alternating between that and the rocking chair when the contractions were too tough to handle. I wanted everyone else to sleep through the night because I knew a long day waited ahead.

I had the TV on random channels because I could not focus on any one thing between the bouts of pain. The lights were off in case I was able to doze off here and there, which I was not. I cried. I cried because I knew none of my best friends would be there this time. I cried because my marriage had been in such chaos (little did I know it would get harder before it got better). Tears fell knowing this was different. Even though I had the same amount of time to prepare, I did not prepare. Money was tight. Everything I had for this baby boy was given to me out of the love and kindness of others- some who barely knew me.



The days before my mom and sister got me some small necessities like beanies and diapers and even a little blue brush in anticipation that this little gift would also come with a headfull of hair. Only one little thing was purchased by me in the entirety of the time I was pregnant. On the way to the hospital to get rehydrated one of the times I stopped at my favorite nearby boutique and bought a tiny preemie sized beanie, onesie and pants knowing this baby too would be early. Little did I know he would present himself at 7 lbs 12 oz. However, like the others he quickly lost weight and was down to 6 lbs exactly in less than a week and his "coming home outfit" was the only thing that fit just right for the first few weeks.


I was thankful my oldest daughter had started her new preschool a few days before. I was strong in my decision that my younger daughter should wait another few weeks before starting preschool for the first time so she did not associate it with the new baby coming- should he present himself early like they did (and he did). I was glad that day I took myself off bed rest to spend the day alone with her and my mom to buy her a new pair of shoes (her feet had grown) and had lunch together at our favorite pizza place. Little did I know months later I would be opening a store across the street from that same pizza place specializing in baby stuff! The surprises that are brought to us!


That night as the tears fell out of sorrow of lost friendships, strained relationships, financial hardship and fear of "would I be able to love this surprise little boy and support him?" I felt something inside me strengthen.

Things were going to change. It was not going to be smooth or easy but things had to move in a new direction and I began to gain a confidence I had not felt my entire pregnancy. I suddenly did not care if I had tiny blue socks or a co-sleeper or anything material. I realized that this was real, this baby was coming, he was a boy that I would raise to be a man to be proud of.


By three AM the contractions were starting to get to me and I got in the bath. I sat in the water until it cooled staring at my huge belly for the final time. This would be the last time I would see a bump in my belly and wonder if it was an elbow or a knee. I would never again feel the tiny kicks inside or hiccups and hold my head up proud knowing I was hard at work "growing people". I also realized soon I would not be constantly throwing up and crazier than normal.

I got out of the bath, dressed for the hospital and finished packing my bag. By five o'clock I awoke MB to get ready and my mom to come watch the kids and soon after we pulled out of the dark driveway listening to the Mikey show and arrived at the hospital for them to confirm "yes she's back and yes this time doctor said go ahead and get her an epidural- the baby is not waiting any longer".

Twelve hours later I was just getting to nine centimeters. Exhausted and in pain beyond words, I felt the shivers of transition begin. Sometime after nine that night, after hours of pushing and a special crew of delivery staff awaiting because of the complications, a tiny, squirmy baby boy was vacuumed out of me elbow first, head up after too many hours of labor and only two or so hours of pushing. I still don't think my pelvic bone ever healed.

As the morphine needle was pushed into my IV, I held my baby boy for the first time and knew I loved him before I ever accepted how much I loved him. Immediately he took to my breast and snuggled in for a meal. He has been the perfect baby ever since. After two wild girls who had their own agenda, this baby fell right into our crazy routine and made his place in our family immediately. He'll always be the most special surprise I have ever had and when he giggles with his beautiful sisters I know I am doing something right in the world.

Tomorrow we will celebrate the year we have had together with him, but only I alone will celebrate the year and thirty-seven weeks we have shared together.

I feel different emotions as I proudly walk my five-year-old daughter to her Kindergarten classroom. She clings to me as if she wants me there but I know after I leave she is confident and strong because I raised her to be. I never let her see the tears fall down my face as I got her bag ready for the first day of school and carefully lay out the outfit the night before. I held on to something special for months so she would have it for the first day no matter how tight money would be (little did I know how tight it would get!). I wonder how many moms are walking away each morning this week feeling a little loss, yet a little proud, just like me? I know some are not as emotional; I know some are.

I raised her to be proud and strong and confident. To speak without fear (although now we have to work on the back-talk as a result). She sings and learns and is brilliant like her parents which scares the shit out of me. I know ignorance is bliss and was always jealous of those less "there". Yes I sound like a stuck-up bitch saying that but you know its true so shove it! We will battle throughout our life. Our agreements and disagreements will be bountiful. One day she'll have her first kiss, her first love and her first heartbreak and I will be there for all of them.

She is the reason I made it this far as she is my firstborn. She came out hand first, head-up and she is always reaching out in need of something I hope I can help her find. I won't give her what she wants. but instead give her the skills she needs to do it herself and she will.

L.

L is my little girl/big girl. Sometimes she too forgets which she is. At three she attempts to conquer the world, while still attempting to retain some sort of "baby" behavior. She has no fear. She sings, dances, falls and jumps right up. Smiling and excited she just as quickly will scream and fall to the ground kicking.

As the middle child, there is always a special place for her. I love them all equally but different. Their ages and personalities enforce that. She will never be left out. Never be forgotten in a crowd or left behind in a group or not heard when speaking. She is also strong. I know both girls inside like myself sometimes have a doubt about what is right and what is wrong but they always persevere and survive and I love them for that.

Her blue eyes pierce right through my heart, and her tiny curls are just beginning to form so much later than her siblings. But she is different and proud and artistic. She dances to music she can hear wherever she goes. She does not give a damn what anyone thinks, nor should she. At times she is quiet and snugly and then quickly reminds you of her fiestiness at the first chance she gets. Her imagination is strong and her will stronger. She was born with the cord around her neck and she fought that off too.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lVam-fshUgw

Listen. And not to forget D. He is the original start of this posting. The song may be about daughters but think about your little ones in general and it fits them all. Listen. Listen again. And then hear the song.

There is something about this post about my three babies on the eve of the youngest turning one (technically twenty-three more hours but we will celebrate in less than twelve) that helps take my mind of the other things that matter in my life so much right now.

I have so much fear and anxiety and confusion. I am being open and honest and guess what? I will be okay for doing so. I disappear sometimes. So what? I don't always talk about what is really wrong. And? Sometimes I talk and talk about me. Sometimes it is important and sometimes it is just chatter to avoid what I really need to talk about. The point being? I am just me.

I had my babies and intended to stay home and raise them and be "my kid's mom". But things have happened and changed and I am not home twenty-four hours a day for them like SO MANY other moms. Some don't care but I know a lot of them, like me do. They want to be there for it all but they cannot be there for it all and take care of them. All of our choices, decisions and actions have consequences and we just do the best we can. Yeah, being a working mom SUCKS even if you absolutely love what you do and are fabulous at it (oh and I am fabulous at it)- you are not a full-time "mom". But it is what you have to do to do- the BEST for your kids- and you have to what is BEST for them no matter how it feels for you.

I have to be strong. Independent eventually. Teach my children what has been taught me and more. They too will teach me. No matter how successful I become (and dammit I hope I become successful in my business also) I will always be MOM first. And I'd like to be a damn good wife too if circumstances are right. And fuck after all this I hope it is right because I am giving it my all.

We have to sometimes do it all and still be good at it all. We don't always have the choice. For those of you out there that have a choice, I hope you choose to raise your babies yourself. And for those of you who don't- I hope you gain the confidence I am trying to find and realize by doing what you are doing you are being the BEST MOM and it is okay. It is different and sometimes it does suck when you miss out on things but never let your children suffer because you think its better to be with them than to take care of them however you have too. It hurts me, it pains me every time I walk out that door. But I took every step in ensuring the love they get when they are away from me is the next best thing to my love and I know they won't resent me for this after they get used to it. When they are adults they will understand I did what I had to do to ensure our stability and THAT IS WHAT IS BEST FOR THEM.

I believe in God and I believe no matter how angry I get, he would never give me more than I could handle. So he's raining it down on me. Shit it is pouring in every direction of my life and those around me. I am going to get something out of this. These experiences can only make me stronger because I am not letting them break me down. I might not want to talk about them but I will not let them get me.

I am surrounded by light and friends and love and family even in the ugliest of times and there must be lessons learned and lessons taught and I will make it through another week in my history. And that is the story for tonight.