I don't talk about this struggle publicly very often. I carry a lot of shame, embarrassment, and guilt on my shoulders because of this struggle. My closest and dearest friends know about half of how I really feel concerning this. Although it's obvious to everyone that I struggle with this, my emotions, feelings, and concerns about it are often locked away in the deepest, darkest parts of me. I saw something today (on television) that both inspired and saddened me. I watched the journey of a young woman who lost a significant amount of weight in a short amount of time. I was so inspired by her strength to acknowledge her struggle, face it dead on, take victory over it, and then shine a light on it by making it public. I was saddened firstly because I related with her on every level of her own struggle, but also because I'm exhausted. This battle with my weight has been apart of me as far back as I can remember. At the age of 6 is when I became what one would classify as "overweight." Ever sine then, the struggle and weight gain has gotten worse and worse.
I learned how to medicate myself with food at a very young age. My mom always had issues with food and body image. Looking good has always been at the top of her priority list. My grandmother was the only other female influence in my life, and her issues with food were opposite my mother's. My mom obsessed about restricting food intake while my grandmother overate. I learned how to overeat and over-enjoy food. I obsessed about it at a young age. Always wondering when the next opportunity to eat would be, and what we would be eating. I can recall, even at a very young age, my mother's disapproval of this behavior. I had no idea at the time what a hold food had over me, and I had no idea the pain it would cause me in the future.
I believe that who we are is often a result of the things that have happened to us in our past. What we go through as individuals shapes us into the people we become. However, I do not believe in continuing to live with a "victim mentality." There comes a point when we have to take responsibility for who we are- that includes the bad parts of us. Then we can either accept those things or change them. I don't blame my parents or grandparents or my pregnancy or even God for my struggle. All of these things are factors, and they have their roles in my struggle, but I'm where I am today ultimately because of my own choices. That's where the shame comes in.
Food is my drug. It's my vice. It's my best friend and worst enemy. It has more power and control over me than I care to admit. Nothing in my life has EVER made me feel more powerless or more like a failure than my addiction to food. It's like being bound from head to toe on a bed by a rope and being left there to die. DAILY, I struggle and I struggle and I fight and I claw and I kick and I scream and I flail about nearly passing out in an attempt to break free from this hold. And every single time I end up surrendering to the rope. I can't break free. The rope is too tight. I'm exhausted, I'm worn, and I don't have another breath in me to even lift a finger in the attempt to break loose. I can't. I just can't. And guess who tied that rope around me? I did. It sounds like pure foolishness. Why would anyone in their right mind ever do such a thing to themselves? It's embarrassing. It's shameful. It's MY struggle and I hate it. I can hear you (whoever you might be) saying to yourself "but didn't she have weight loss surgery?" Yes. I did. I had the lap-band in 2008. I lost 120 pounds and it was the best time of my life. Ever. I got pregnant and with a temporary reversal to allow the baby to get proper nutrients, I gained 90 of it back. Now I'm down 20, so I have 70 to lose to get back to where I was, and another 30 to get to my ultimate goal. See, the thing is that the numbers don't matter. They do, simply as a way to gage exactly how out of control my problem is, and to classify me as overweight, obese, morbidly obese, healthy, or unhealthy, etc. But the truth is that even after losing 120 pounds, the struggle in my mind never left. I was never happy. I looked better. I felt better. But it wasn't enough. In photos I still disgusted myself. I still looked nothing like all my beautifully thin friends. In dating (online) I was still terrified that I would meet someone in person and they would be highly disappointed with my appearance and have no further interest. I've learned how to be funny and outgoing and have a personality that shines to overcompensate for the unattractive nature of my physical appearance. I take pride in those things. They ARE me- fat or skinny, those things remain. So does the fact that I'm smart, compassionate, caring, kind, sincere, good at communicating, talented, etc. But all of those things take time to discover. Unravel me like a ball of yarn, and I promise you will see nothing but beauty along the way and at my core. This I know. But time after time after time those things miss an opportunity to be revealed because the truth is, few people (and let's be honest and say that I'm primarily talking about men here) look at the "fat girl" and say to themselves "I REALLY want to get to know her." And I can't blame them. I really can't. There comes a point in the dating world when you know what you want. You know what you're looking for and what you're not. Most men don't want a fat girl. I don't necessarily want a fat guy. And that's totally understandable and acceptable. Which is another reason why I HATE THAT I HAVE THIS STRUGGLE!!! It's a wall between me and the world. It keeps me from people, it keeps me from my dreams and goals, and most importantly it keeps me from loving myself completely. So I'm stuck here in this horribly painful and uncomfortable place. I'm not going to be a victim. I can't accept myself as I am and stay this way, and I'm trying to change, but it's a lonely struggle that I will most likely have the rest of my life. So I'm disgusted, ashamed, embarrassed, and guilty. I wish who I was on the inside could be the first thing people see- minus all the self loathing, pity, and insecurity. And what kind of example am I to an innocent little girl? I don't want my daughter to follow in my footsteps. Lord, help us all. Seriously.
This is all I have in me tonight. More later...
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Rainbows and Darkness
I drove to work today in silence. The streets were wet, and the sun was hidden by a heavy darkness that covered the city. I knew this day would come and go just like it has every year for the last 13 years. This year was different, though. I felt such a sadness and a heaviness in my heart that had managed to escape me in previous years. I thought to myself, "Why today? Why now? It's been 13 years." I drove and I cried. I remembered how tragic this day was 13 years ago. To be 15 years old and have your mom tell you that you should really sit down because she has some bad news. I remember it like it was yesterday. I already knew the news. It was strange. So very strange, but I knew. I knew my dad had died, and that he had taken his own life. To hear her words was just confirmation of what my heart had already somehow figured out. It's the most bizarre feeling in the world - one day someone you love is alive and well. You can talk to them, touch them, feel their hair in your fingers and the warmth of their skin. The next minute, they're gone. Forever. How does one even begin to process that? Especially as a 15 year old girl. That day forever changed me as a person. In many ways I'm better, stronger, more compassionate and understanding. But today I felt like that 15 year old girl all over again. Vulnerable and broken. And I kept trying to figure out why. I've been able to successfully remove myself further and further from that day and that situation with every year that's passed. It often doesn't feel like it happened to me. When I think about it, it's like watching a movie of someone else's life. So why on earth was today so different?
Then I thought about Zoe, and how in 5 short months she has managed to steal my heart and completely captivate every part of me. And while it made me sad to think that my dad (and grandma) will never meet her, I realized what was so different about today. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I thought of her dad. My dad and her dad, and the realization that people have an incredibly hurtful power: to leave. Both of those men chose to remove themselves from my life. One by taking his own life, and the other by simply turning his back and walking away. Death is so powerful in its' own right. It's an unwanted separation. And although the willful ending of a relationship (either by the choice of one partner or both) is not a death, it sure can feel like one. I loved Chris. I wasn't ready to say goodbye. He made that choice for me. My dad took himself away from me. I had no choice in that either. And, oh, my heart just breaks all over again at the thought. I can even look back at both situations and have justified reasons for why it's best for both people to be gone, yet I'm still overwhelmed by the thought (and fear) that a person can grab ahold of your heart, cause you to love with such fullness, and then leave. Just like that. With no warning, and sometimes with seemingly no care or concern for your feelings or well being. Wow. What a gift and a responsibility love is. Sometimes we can be so careless with the hearts of others, and our own as well.
I continue my silent drive to the office and through the cold tears, a grin forms on my face. I see a rainbow that starts at one end of the valley and stretches itself clear to the other side. And I think to myself, "Of course." If there's one thing that love, loss, pain, and grief has taught me, it's that if you look hard enough, you really can always see a rainbow. So cheesy and cliche, I know, but it has proven itself to be true in my life over and over again.
I'm remembering you today, dad. And everything you taught me in your life and in your death.
Then I thought about Zoe, and how in 5 short months she has managed to steal my heart and completely captivate every part of me. And while it made me sad to think that my dad (and grandma) will never meet her, I realized what was so different about today. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I thought of her dad. My dad and her dad, and the realization that people have an incredibly hurtful power: to leave. Both of those men chose to remove themselves from my life. One by taking his own life, and the other by simply turning his back and walking away. Death is so powerful in its' own right. It's an unwanted separation. And although the willful ending of a relationship (either by the choice of one partner or both) is not a death, it sure can feel like one. I loved Chris. I wasn't ready to say goodbye. He made that choice for me. My dad took himself away from me. I had no choice in that either. And, oh, my heart just breaks all over again at the thought. I can even look back at both situations and have justified reasons for why it's best for both people to be gone, yet I'm still overwhelmed by the thought (and fear) that a person can grab ahold of your heart, cause you to love with such fullness, and then leave. Just like that. With no warning, and sometimes with seemingly no care or concern for your feelings or well being. Wow. What a gift and a responsibility love is. Sometimes we can be so careless with the hearts of others, and our own as well.
I continue my silent drive to the office and through the cold tears, a grin forms on my face. I see a rainbow that starts at one end of the valley and stretches itself clear to the other side. And I think to myself, "Of course." If there's one thing that love, loss, pain, and grief has taught me, it's that if you look hard enough, you really can always see a rainbow. So cheesy and cliche, I know, but it has proven itself to be true in my life over and over again.
I'm remembering you today, dad. And everything you taught me in your life and in your death.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Who am I?
As I've been working on (procrastinating) updating my blog, Jodi Packe, my friend and Zoe's babysitter posts this on my facebook wall today:
http://www.graceisforsinners.com/life/what-falling-away-means/
And here's my reaction:
YESSSSSS!!!! This is it. This is what I've been waiting for. Three words came to me after reading this. "Who." "Am." " I?" 1. Who am I to think that my decisions, choices, mistakes, etc. could interfere with the ultimate plan of the God of the universe? I mean really. I need to get over myself. 2. I questioned God about His decision to harden Pharaoh's heart many years ago. His response to me came in the form of a scripture in Romans (which one, I can't recall) and went something like this: "I'm God. I do what I feel I need to do for MY glory and to SAVE you and people just like you. The end." Not to say I think He's hardened my heart. Maybe He has. Maybe He hasn't. But maybe He's let it REMAIN hardened for an ultimately greater purpose. I don't know. Either way, it doesn't really freaking matter because He's got this. All of it. He's taught me SO much about seasons. Seasons. Seasons. SEASONS. They change, they come, they go. Nothing remains the same, ever. Except His love for me. Last Sunday (not yesterday, the one before) He reminded me of His love for me. He stirred my heart. As if to say, "I am not like all your previous lovers. Or even lovers to come. My love for you remains. My love for you will never take you and use you for all you're worth only to leave you and abandon you. Your last lover left you and his own flesh and blood, of his own volition. I will not. Nor will my love pass over Zoe. She will never be without this Holy Love or without a Father." So maybe this is a season of hardening? How quickly and easily I forgot that I am that ONE sheep He would drop everything for to bring me back to HIS flock. And here's the kicker... How blessed am I to be one of the few that would KNOW HIS VOICE??? Once you've heard that voice... once you KNOW that Shepherd...you never forget. You can't un-know what's already been known! So I'll be over here, Lord. Doing what I'm doing. Running myself ragged. Spinning in this hampster wheel over and over and over again...until my hands are stained red, filthy, dirty, worn, beaten, bruised, stenched, disgusting, and rotten. Prepare my heart. Open my ears to hear You calling. I might decide I still want to play in this muddy grass over here for a little while longer, but I won't forget Your voice. I won't forget YOU. You haven't forgotten me. And still... I can't help but think, who the hell am I? Wow. Who feels humbled and free today? Like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders? This girl. Thank you my sweet, sweet Jodi.
http://www.graceisforsinners.com/life/what-falling-away-means/
And here's my reaction:
YESSSSSS!!!! This is it. This is what I've been waiting for. Three words came to me after reading this. "Who." "Am." " I?" 1. Who am I to think that my decisions, choices, mistakes, etc. could interfere with the ultimate plan of the God of the universe? I mean really. I need to get over myself. 2. I questioned God about His decision to harden Pharaoh's heart many years ago. His response to me came in the form of a scripture in Romans (which one, I can't recall) and went something like this: "I'm God. I do what I feel I need to do for MY glory and to SAVE you and people just like you. The end." Not to say I think He's hardened my heart. Maybe He has. Maybe He hasn't. But maybe He's let it REMAIN hardened for an ultimately greater purpose. I don't know. Either way, it doesn't really freaking matter because He's got this. All of it. He's taught me SO much about seasons. Seasons. Seasons. SEASONS. They change, they come, they go. Nothing remains the same, ever. Except His love for me. Last Sunday (not yesterday, the one before) He reminded me of His love for me. He stirred my heart. As if to say, "I am not like all your previous lovers. Or even lovers to come. My love for you remains. My love for you will never take you and use you for all you're worth only to leave you and abandon you. Your last lover left you and his own flesh and blood, of his own volition. I will not. Nor will my love pass over Zoe. She will never be without this Holy Love or without a Father." So maybe this is a season of hardening? How quickly and easily I forgot that I am that ONE sheep He would drop everything for to bring me back to HIS flock. And here's the kicker... How blessed am I to be one of the few that would KNOW HIS VOICE??? Once you've heard that voice... once you KNOW that Shepherd...you never forget. You can't un-know what's already been known! So I'll be over here, Lord. Doing what I'm doing. Running myself ragged. Spinning in this hampster wheel over and over and over again...until my hands are stained red, filthy, dirty, worn, beaten, bruised, stenched, disgusting, and rotten. Prepare my heart. Open my ears to hear You calling. I might decide I still want to play in this muddy grass over here for a little while longer, but I won't forget Your voice. I won't forget YOU. You haven't forgotten me. And still... I can't help but think, who the hell am I? Wow. Who feels humbled and free today? Like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders? This girl. Thank you my sweet, sweet Jodi.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Dear Zoe...
PLEASE GO TO SLEEP!!!
Today I drove 40 minutes to take you to the babysitter. When I got there I realized that I never strapped your car seat in. Thank God we didn't get in an accident. Then, later in the afternoon at work, I realized I was wearing two different shoes. No joke. Then on the way home, I strapped your car seat in, but I didn't strap YOU into the car seat!!!! And do you want to know why I did all these ridiculous things today?
Because you keep me up all night!!!! :) I am SO tired that I am not thinking straight!
Then, on the way home, our 40 minute drive turned into an hour and 40 minutes because of an accident on the freeway. We were stopped and waiting for a very long time. You were hungry and screaming. Eventually I couldn't take it anymore so I pulled over to the side of the freeway, took you out of your car seat and nursed you right then and there! You should have seen the looks I got! I was nearly causing another accident! Now you can't ever say I'm a bad mom. :)
You are THREE months old now!!! You have changed so much just this last WEEK. You are SO alert and very smart. You are a momma's girl, BIG TIME, and I love it. Sometimes you cry just because you don't want anyone to hold you other than me. This week you have taken a liking to the binky. YAY! It makes soothing you just a little bit easier. I know it's going to be difficult to break the habit, but for now, it works for both of us. You talk to me a lot. You love smiling and you actually laughed out loud for the first time a few weeks ago!!! I cried. It was the most beautiful and amazing thing I'd ever heard. You haven't done it since though. Little stinker.
My love for you grows every single day. Just when I think my heart is filled to capacity, it expands! I love you my little monkey.
Today I drove 40 minutes to take you to the babysitter. When I got there I realized that I never strapped your car seat in. Thank God we didn't get in an accident. Then, later in the afternoon at work, I realized I was wearing two different shoes. No joke. Then on the way home, I strapped your car seat in, but I didn't strap YOU into the car seat!!!! And do you want to know why I did all these ridiculous things today?
Because you keep me up all night!!!! :) I am SO tired that I am not thinking straight!
Then, on the way home, our 40 minute drive turned into an hour and 40 minutes because of an accident on the freeway. We were stopped and waiting for a very long time. You were hungry and screaming. Eventually I couldn't take it anymore so I pulled over to the side of the freeway, took you out of your car seat and nursed you right then and there! You should have seen the looks I got! I was nearly causing another accident! Now you can't ever say I'm a bad mom. :)
You are THREE months old now!!! You have changed so much just this last WEEK. You are SO alert and very smart. You are a momma's girl, BIG TIME, and I love it. Sometimes you cry just because you don't want anyone to hold you other than me. This week you have taken a liking to the binky. YAY! It makes soothing you just a little bit easier. I know it's going to be difficult to break the habit, but for now, it works for both of us. You talk to me a lot. You love smiling and you actually laughed out loud for the first time a few weeks ago!!! I cried. It was the most beautiful and amazing thing I'd ever heard. You haven't done it since though. Little stinker.
My love for you grows every single day. Just when I think my heart is filled to capacity, it expands! I love you my little monkey.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Dear Zoe...
You are already 2 months old! I cannot believe how much you are changing. You're smiling at me all the time now. You coo and wiggle your arms and legs around constantly. You're developing quite a personality already. Today, for instance, you were so fun and sweet and cute. Yesterday you were PISSY! :)You prefer to be held while the person holding you is standing up and bouncing. If we sit down, you cry. Your best time of day is first thing in the morning. As soon as you wake up, you will sit with me for an hour or so and just smile and talk. It's my favorite time of day with you. The last 4 or 5 nights you have slept through the night, going to sleep at around 8pm and waking up at 6am. I'm hoping this sticks because I have to go back to work in a few days. I am NOT happy about this. It makes me want to cry just thinking about being away from you the majority of the day. I'm leaving you in good hands and I plan to make every minute that I do have with you count. You are getting SO cute. Everyone says so. You have been referred to as the "Gerber Baby" on many occasions already. You do this pouty lip thing lately that breaks my heart. If you did that and asked for ______, I'd give it to you. Here's a picture of you doing this. It's fitting that we happened to be on the way to get your first round of shots...
You light me up. Your smiles and cries make me feel emotions I never knew I had. You are so beautiful. And you're stubborn and strong willed already. You refuse to nap during the day. 15-20 minute cat naps at a time are all I can get out of you. I let it slide, however, because you sleep through the night. :) You get SO tired and you just refuse to sleep. You fight it til the end! Finally, when you lose your will, you snuggle your little head on my shoulder, rub your face all over my shirt, cuddle, and eventually close your eyes and sleep. I hope you will always cuddle with me that way. It is truly THE best thing ever. Oh, and if I didn't mention it before: you HATE your car seat!!! You scream bloody murder the WHOLE time you're in the car. The second I take you out, you stop. I don't get it. People tell me you will grow out of this. I hope quickly because it is heartbreaking for me to see you so upset every time we go anywhere.
Here are some photos of my 2 month old little monkey!:
I could post and look at pictures of you ALL DAY!!!
You light me up. Your smiles and cries make me feel emotions I never knew I had. You are so beautiful. And you're stubborn and strong willed already. You refuse to nap during the day. 15-20 minute cat naps at a time are all I can get out of you. I let it slide, however, because you sleep through the night. :) You get SO tired and you just refuse to sleep. You fight it til the end! Finally, when you lose your will, you snuggle your little head on my shoulder, rub your face all over my shirt, cuddle, and eventually close your eyes and sleep. I hope you will always cuddle with me that way. It is truly THE best thing ever. Oh, and if I didn't mention it before: you HATE your car seat!!! You scream bloody murder the WHOLE time you're in the car. The second I take you out, you stop. I don't get it. People tell me you will grow out of this. I hope quickly because it is heartbreaking for me to see you so upset every time we go anywhere.
Here are some photos of my 2 month old little monkey!:
I could post and look at pictures of you ALL DAY!!!
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Goodbye, my friend.
I had to say goodbye yesterday to Sadie, my first very own dog. I got her the Summer of 2006 and we shared 5 incredible years together. She was my constant companion and stood by me through some very difficult times. She encouraged me to get outside and exercise while I was losing weight. She was with me through thick and thin, really quite literally. When I found out I was pregnant, I had to short sell my house and move back in with my family because I knew I wouldn't be able to afford a house and a baby by myself. Unfortunately my parents already have two dogs and couldn't take in me, my baby, and my dog, so I had to find her a new home. An old friend and co-worker, Yvonne, ended up taking her to live with her and her four children. Ironically, Yvonne lives in the exact same neighborhood as my parents, so I was able to see her all the time. It really could not have worked out any better. Yvonne and her children fell madly in love with Sadie. Each one of them developed a very special bond with Sadie. I visited often and even babysat while Yvonne and her family went out of town.
About a month ago Sadie suffered an injury to her knee and hip. It caused her great pain and neither Yvonne or myself could afford the surgery necessary to fix it. Even if we could, the doctor said there was a 50% chance the other knee would blow, requiring another surgery. Every day it seemed Sadie was in more and more pain. She got to the point where she would basically only to get up to eat and use the bathroom. She appeared to be in severe pain and depressed. Finally she stopped eating and drinking and in her irritable and painful state, she bit Yvonne's 4 year old son. Yvonne and I talked and decided that she needed to be put down. Her quality of life was no longer good and neither of us could bear to see her in so much pain, even while on daily pain meds. We went to the animal hospital yesterday together and said our goodbye's. It was one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make. I will miss Sadie so very much. I miss her face and her special "Sadie smile." She was one of a kind, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to get another dog. Anyway, here are some photos to remember her and our time together.
About a month ago Sadie suffered an injury to her knee and hip. It caused her great pain and neither Yvonne or myself could afford the surgery necessary to fix it. Even if we could, the doctor said there was a 50% chance the other knee would blow, requiring another surgery. Every day it seemed Sadie was in more and more pain. She got to the point where she would basically only to get up to eat and use the bathroom. She appeared to be in severe pain and depressed. Finally she stopped eating and drinking and in her irritable and painful state, she bit Yvonne's 4 year old son. Yvonne and I talked and decided that she needed to be put down. Her quality of life was no longer good and neither of us could bear to see her in so much pain, even while on daily pain meds. We went to the animal hospital yesterday together and said our goodbye's. It was one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make. I will miss Sadie so very much. I miss her face and her special "Sadie smile." She was one of a kind, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to get another dog. Anyway, here are some photos to remember her and our time together.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Dear Zoe...
Dear Zoe,
You turned one month old on Wednesday. You are already so different than just a few short weeks ago! You're so much more alert. You make eye contact with me now and follow my face around. You're starting to smile on purpose instead of just in your dreams. You're beginning to coo and make such cute noises. Although I don't make quite enough milk for you, we are really getting the hang of nursing and we always do that before topping you off with formula. You love baths but hate getting dressed. You get bored easily and have to be entertained. You LOVE being outside. It calms you right down. You love looking out the window in the morning and seeing the sunlight. You prefer to be walked around, rocked, and bounced, rather than just laying or sitting on my lap. You like when Grandma sings to you. You poop a lot while Aunt Taylor is holding you and it makes us laugh every time. You sleep best on your tummy. I am completely unsure whether or not you like riding in the car. Sometimes you love it and other times you scream the whole way. I don't like it when you cry. It breaks my heart. You're getting more beautiful every day and expanding the size of my heart minute by minute. Everyday I realize how blessed I am that you happened to me.
Love,
Mama
Here's you at 1 month old:
You turned one month old on Wednesday. You are already so different than just a few short weeks ago! You're so much more alert. You make eye contact with me now and follow my face around. You're starting to smile on purpose instead of just in your dreams. You're beginning to coo and make such cute noises. Although I don't make quite enough milk for you, we are really getting the hang of nursing and we always do that before topping you off with formula. You love baths but hate getting dressed. You get bored easily and have to be entertained. You LOVE being outside. It calms you right down. You love looking out the window in the morning and seeing the sunlight. You prefer to be walked around, rocked, and bounced, rather than just laying or sitting on my lap. You like when Grandma sings to you. You poop a lot while Aunt Taylor is holding you and it makes us laugh every time. You sleep best on your tummy. I am completely unsure whether or not you like riding in the car. Sometimes you love it and other times you scream the whole way. I don't like it when you cry. It breaks my heart. You're getting more beautiful every day and expanding the size of my heart minute by minute. Everyday I realize how blessed I am that you happened to me.
Love,
Mama
Here's you at 1 month old:
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Happy Birthday Zoe Ann!!!
Zoe Ann Nalder was born on Sunday, May 22, 2011 at 3:27am. She weighed 7 pounds 9 ounces and was 20 and 1/4 inches long. Here is the story of her birth:
Zoe was due Sunday, May 29th, 2011. On Thursday, May 19th, I went for my normal weekly visit to the doctor. He checked me and seemed surprised that I was already dilated to a 3. He said that could mean that I could go into labor in 6 hours or in 2 weeks. Basically, it's difficult to predict when a woman will go into labor based on how dilated she is. He did say, however, that he would be surprised if I made it another week. I was hoping for sooner rather than later because I was so uncomfortable. Also, I did not want to be induced. I wanted to go into labor on my own, and my doctor had already told me he would induce me no later than a few days after my due date.
The next day I stayed home from work because I was having really bad cramps that morning. The only thing that made me feel better was lying down, so I called into work, decided I would try to go back to sleep and if the cramps woke me up, I knew things were getting started. They didn't wake me up. I slept for about 4 hours and when I woke up I felt like a new woman. No more cramps. I was confused and disappointed. As scared as I was to go into labor (for a million different reasons), I was physically ready to get the show on the road. I was over being pregnant. Friday I went about my usual business and figured labor was still a ways away.
Saturday morning I didn't have any cramps and hadn't noticed any changes... until I went to use the restroom and lost my mucous plug. Gross, I know, but it's all part of the miraculous process. I knew that for some women this was an indicator that labor was very near, while for others labor was still weeks away. I was excited to be one step closer to labor and delivery nonetheless. My dear friend and very experienced mother of four, Millisa, had a feeling I might go into labor that night and suggested I spend the night at her house since she lived much closer to the hospital than me. I thought it was a good idea, and since they were having a barbecue with some mutual friends, it sounded like fun. I left to go to her house around 5pm Saturday night. On the 45 minute drive to her house, I started having contractions. They were stronger than the braxton hicks contractions I had been experiencing for weeks before. I had three very strong contractions within the 45 minutes it took me to get her house. As the night went on, the contractions kept coming. They weren't really anything to write home about until about 8pm. By this time they were getting much stronger and closer together. Millisa and I started keeping track of my contractions by using an app on her iphone. It monitored how long they lasted and how far apart they were. They were really starting to hurt. My doctor told me that it was time to go to the hospital when contractions got to 5-10 minutes apart, my water broke, or if I began to bleed. By about 9:45 my contractions were 4-5 minutes apart and very painful. Millisa and I decided it was time to get to the hospital.
We got to the hospital at about 10pm. The contractions were getting even MORE painful and closer together. When they checked me, I was dilated to a 5-6! Within minutes the contractions were 2-3 minutes apart and the pain was becoming unbearable. It was time for the epidural. I was upset to learn that I would have to wait until an entire IV bag had gone through my body and blood was drawn and results received. I labored until midnight in a lot of pain, when finally the anesthesiologist arrived. One of my fears about the epidural was that it would only numb one side of my body, and guess what? That's exactly what happened. Luckily, the anesthesiologist was able to finagle it some and roll me on my side and eventually it started working properly. I was so relieved. Just then I felt a strange sensation. I notified the nurses that I had either just peed on myself, or my water had broken. Thank God, it was my water that broke. I would have been embarrassed if I had just peed all over myself. Turns out they had given me a catheter to avoid that very thing. Looking back, I find it comical that I was worried about peeing on myself when what seemed like 4,679,321 people were about to see me spread eagle in the center of the room with all eyes directly on my vagina. It's amazing how quickly all insecurity and modesty goes right out the window with childbirth. Anyway, I digress. Although I couldn't feel any more pain and I was so happy for that, I was very freaked out by the sensation the epidural gave me. I felt paralyzed from the waist down and it was a very unsettling feeling. My blood pressure shot through the roof and I began to panic a bit. Once I got used to the feeling, the nurses encouraged me to take a nap to prepare for the pushing I'd be doing in a while. It was midnight and at this point I was dilated to a 7. My mom asked the nurses at what time we could expect to have a baby and they said they expected me to dilate about 1 centimeter every hour. Their prediction was that I would be complete (dilated to a 10) by about 3am and then pushing could take anywhere from minutes to 3 hours. So certainly by 6am, Zoe would be here.
We (myself, my mom, Millisa, and Danica) had just settled in to take a snooze when the nurses thought it appeared I had stopped contracting. Another fear of mine was that getting an epidural would stall labor. They came in at about 1am and determined that the external monitor had just stopped picking up my contractions so they wanted to put in an internal monitor that attached to the baby's head to continue to monitor my contractions. Bev (my favorite nurse) went to put in the monitor and to her surprise found that I was already complete! Dilated to a 10! We were all shocked and excited. I had progressed so quickly! It was almost time to push! I didn't feel any desire or need to push yet and Bev said that the baby still needed to make her way down the birth canal a bit more, so we decided to just hang out a little while longer and let the contractions and gravity do their work.
At around 2am Bev decided to go ahead and have me do a few practice pushes to see how well I did. She seemed impressed so she decided to go ahead and keep them coming. I pushed. And pushed. And pushed. That part of the labor was the most difficult part for me, hands down. Eventually I had pushed enough that it was time to call my doctor (and wake him up) to get him to the hospital to deliver my baby. Within 10-15 minutes Dr. Lopez arrived and it was time to welcome Zoe to the world. I kept pushing and it felt like a - 1 step forward 2 steps back - process. Dr. Lopez, my mom, Millisa, Danica, and 5 or 6 nurses were all there cheering me on. When I would give a good push they would all get excited and start screaming and cheering because they could see the head emerging, but I'd stop pushing and her head would go back in. Too much info? Sorry. I would push with ALL my might, and after doing it over and over and over again and her head still not coming out, I was ready to throw in the towel. I was ready to say "Just cut her out! I don't care what you have to do, just get her out!!!" I felt like I was getting nowhere and I was EXHAUSTED. Everyone would keep saying "You're so close! She's almost out! You're doing great!" Eventually I thought they were all lying just to keep me going. At one point my mom said "You're so close, Nichole! She's right there!" and I replied with a scream "No she's NOT! Mom!" The nurse offered a mirror so that I could see they were telling the truth. I declined with an attitude. After just a few more pushes, her head was out! A few seconds later she was placed on my belly while the nurses cleaned her off and I got to touch her and say hello.
A few seconds later she was whisked away to the baby warmer to be weighed, measured, cleaned, poked, prodded, etc.
There was a concern though. She would NOT cry. Apparently it's important that they do that because it gets the mucous and other nasty things out of their lungs. She was breathing and she had great color but she wouldn't cry. They had to use tubes to suction out her nose and throat. They worked on her for a LONG time and at one point told me she might need to go to the NICU. Eventually they had a nurse from the NICU come up and take a look at her. She concluded that she was okay, she was just being stubborn. Even after 2 shots and a bath, they could not get her to cry. While all of this was happening, my doctor was busy stitching me up. I had some pretty bad tears that needed to be repaired. It took an hour for him to stitch me up, and an hour for the nurses to finish working on her. Finally, I got to hold my baby. She was so beautiful and precious. She was wide awake, alert, and content just being in my arms. We spent the next hour nursing and getting acquainted with one another while everyone else in the room finally fell asleep. It was a precious moment that I will never forget. I was in awe. Of her. Of what had just happened. Of myself and what I had accomplished. All I knew was that I didn't want us to ever be apart from that day forward.
Here's a photo of Zoe taken the next day in the hospital:
It's now been 3 and 1/2 weeks and I swear I fall more in love with her with each day that passes. Here's a photo of us taken yesterday:
I'm a very proud mama and I cannot wait to document more of her and our adventures together. My life is all about her now. It's just me and her from this point forward, and I am more than content with that.
Zoe was due Sunday, May 29th, 2011. On Thursday, May 19th, I went for my normal weekly visit to the doctor. He checked me and seemed surprised that I was already dilated to a 3. He said that could mean that I could go into labor in 6 hours or in 2 weeks. Basically, it's difficult to predict when a woman will go into labor based on how dilated she is. He did say, however, that he would be surprised if I made it another week. I was hoping for sooner rather than later because I was so uncomfortable. Also, I did not want to be induced. I wanted to go into labor on my own, and my doctor had already told me he would induce me no later than a few days after my due date.
The next day I stayed home from work because I was having really bad cramps that morning. The only thing that made me feel better was lying down, so I called into work, decided I would try to go back to sleep and if the cramps woke me up, I knew things were getting started. They didn't wake me up. I slept for about 4 hours and when I woke up I felt like a new woman. No more cramps. I was confused and disappointed. As scared as I was to go into labor (for a million different reasons), I was physically ready to get the show on the road. I was over being pregnant. Friday I went about my usual business and figured labor was still a ways away.
Saturday morning I didn't have any cramps and hadn't noticed any changes... until I went to use the restroom and lost my mucous plug. Gross, I know, but it's all part of the miraculous process. I knew that for some women this was an indicator that labor was very near, while for others labor was still weeks away. I was excited to be one step closer to labor and delivery nonetheless. My dear friend and very experienced mother of four, Millisa, had a feeling I might go into labor that night and suggested I spend the night at her house since she lived much closer to the hospital than me. I thought it was a good idea, and since they were having a barbecue with some mutual friends, it sounded like fun. I left to go to her house around 5pm Saturday night. On the 45 minute drive to her house, I started having contractions. They were stronger than the braxton hicks contractions I had been experiencing for weeks before. I had three very strong contractions within the 45 minutes it took me to get her house. As the night went on, the contractions kept coming. They weren't really anything to write home about until about 8pm. By this time they were getting much stronger and closer together. Millisa and I started keeping track of my contractions by using an app on her iphone. It monitored how long they lasted and how far apart they were. They were really starting to hurt. My doctor told me that it was time to go to the hospital when contractions got to 5-10 minutes apart, my water broke, or if I began to bleed. By about 9:45 my contractions were 4-5 minutes apart and very painful. Millisa and I decided it was time to get to the hospital.
We got to the hospital at about 10pm. The contractions were getting even MORE painful and closer together. When they checked me, I was dilated to a 5-6! Within minutes the contractions were 2-3 minutes apart and the pain was becoming unbearable. It was time for the epidural. I was upset to learn that I would have to wait until an entire IV bag had gone through my body and blood was drawn and results received. I labored until midnight in a lot of pain, when finally the anesthesiologist arrived. One of my fears about the epidural was that it would only numb one side of my body, and guess what? That's exactly what happened. Luckily, the anesthesiologist was able to finagle it some and roll me on my side and eventually it started working properly. I was so relieved. Just then I felt a strange sensation. I notified the nurses that I had either just peed on myself, or my water had broken. Thank God, it was my water that broke. I would have been embarrassed if I had just peed all over myself. Turns out they had given me a catheter to avoid that very thing. Looking back, I find it comical that I was worried about peeing on myself when what seemed like 4,679,321 people were about to see me spread eagle in the center of the room with all eyes directly on my vagina. It's amazing how quickly all insecurity and modesty goes right out the window with childbirth. Anyway, I digress. Although I couldn't feel any more pain and I was so happy for that, I was very freaked out by the sensation the epidural gave me. I felt paralyzed from the waist down and it was a very unsettling feeling. My blood pressure shot through the roof and I began to panic a bit. Once I got used to the feeling, the nurses encouraged me to take a nap to prepare for the pushing I'd be doing in a while. It was midnight and at this point I was dilated to a 7. My mom asked the nurses at what time we could expect to have a baby and they said they expected me to dilate about 1 centimeter every hour. Their prediction was that I would be complete (dilated to a 10) by about 3am and then pushing could take anywhere from minutes to 3 hours. So certainly by 6am, Zoe would be here.
We (myself, my mom, Millisa, and Danica) had just settled in to take a snooze when the nurses thought it appeared I had stopped contracting. Another fear of mine was that getting an epidural would stall labor. They came in at about 1am and determined that the external monitor had just stopped picking up my contractions so they wanted to put in an internal monitor that attached to the baby's head to continue to monitor my contractions. Bev (my favorite nurse) went to put in the monitor and to her surprise found that I was already complete! Dilated to a 10! We were all shocked and excited. I had progressed so quickly! It was almost time to push! I didn't feel any desire or need to push yet and Bev said that the baby still needed to make her way down the birth canal a bit more, so we decided to just hang out a little while longer and let the contractions and gravity do their work.
At around 2am Bev decided to go ahead and have me do a few practice pushes to see how well I did. She seemed impressed so she decided to go ahead and keep them coming. I pushed. And pushed. And pushed. That part of the labor was the most difficult part for me, hands down. Eventually I had pushed enough that it was time to call my doctor (and wake him up) to get him to the hospital to deliver my baby. Within 10-15 minutes Dr. Lopez arrived and it was time to welcome Zoe to the world. I kept pushing and it felt like a - 1 step forward 2 steps back - process. Dr. Lopez, my mom, Millisa, Danica, and 5 or 6 nurses were all there cheering me on. When I would give a good push they would all get excited and start screaming and cheering because they could see the head emerging, but I'd stop pushing and her head would go back in. Too much info? Sorry. I would push with ALL my might, and after doing it over and over and over again and her head still not coming out, I was ready to throw in the towel. I was ready to say "Just cut her out! I don't care what you have to do, just get her out!!!" I felt like I was getting nowhere and I was EXHAUSTED. Everyone would keep saying "You're so close! She's almost out! You're doing great!" Eventually I thought they were all lying just to keep me going. At one point my mom said "You're so close, Nichole! She's right there!" and I replied with a scream "No she's NOT! Mom!" The nurse offered a mirror so that I could see they were telling the truth. I declined with an attitude. After just a few more pushes, her head was out! A few seconds later she was placed on my belly while the nurses cleaned her off and I got to touch her and say hello.
A few seconds later she was whisked away to the baby warmer to be weighed, measured, cleaned, poked, prodded, etc.
There was a concern though. She would NOT cry. Apparently it's important that they do that because it gets the mucous and other nasty things out of their lungs. She was breathing and she had great color but she wouldn't cry. They had to use tubes to suction out her nose and throat. They worked on her for a LONG time and at one point told me she might need to go to the NICU. Eventually they had a nurse from the NICU come up and take a look at her. She concluded that she was okay, she was just being stubborn. Even after 2 shots and a bath, they could not get her to cry. While all of this was happening, my doctor was busy stitching me up. I had some pretty bad tears that needed to be repaired. It took an hour for him to stitch me up, and an hour for the nurses to finish working on her. Finally, I got to hold my baby. She was so beautiful and precious. She was wide awake, alert, and content just being in my arms. We spent the next hour nursing and getting acquainted with one another while everyone else in the room finally fell asleep. It was a precious moment that I will never forget. I was in awe. Of her. Of what had just happened. Of myself and what I had accomplished. All I knew was that I didn't want us to ever be apart from that day forward.
Here's a photo of Zoe taken the next day in the hospital:
It's now been 3 and 1/2 weeks and I swear I fall more in love with her with each day that passes. Here's a photo of us taken yesterday:
I'm a very proud mama and I cannot wait to document more of her and our adventures together. My life is all about her now. It's just me and her from this point forward, and I am more than content with that.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
The time is near...
I'll be 38 weeks tomorrow. It's absolutely crazy to know that Zoe is considered full term and could make her grand entrance at any time. As much as I don't feel like I'm emotionally or mentally ready for her to be here (I'm not sure that I ever will be), I am physically ready. I write this so I don't forget the symptoms I experienced during pregnancy. My gums have been swollen and inflamed and bleed easily since the beginning of my pregnancy all the way through. It is seriously difficult to slowly roll from my left side to my right side over and over throughout the night when it feels like I have a 20 pound bowling ball in my belly. I can't wait to sleep on my stomach and back again. Maybe I should say "lay" since it doesn't sound as though I'll be doing much sleeping after she arrives. Everyone and their mother keeps reminding me how sleep deprived I will be after having a baby. "Sleep lots now since you won't be able to ever again!" As though I can store it up and keep some on reserve... Got it. It's hard to walk or stand for long anymore. My pelvis hurts. I feel like she's just as crunched in my belly, ribs, and pelvis as she does, I'm sure. It's nearly impossible to get comfortable asleep or awake. My feet, ankles, and legs are so swollen and tender to the touch. 
My hands swell at night and go numb. It takes 30 minutes to an hour after I wake up to be able to make a fist. I know that the impressive 90 pound weight gain hasn't helped the situation one bit. I feel like such a failure in that regard. Given one chance to give myself an excuse, and I gain 90 pounds of the 120 I lost right back. Perfect. It simply reminds me that I truly need my lap band to be successful at weight loss. My doctor doesn't want me to re-fill my lap band again until I'm done nursing. I really want to make that happen for at least a year, and I don't know if I can wait that long to start losing again. I fear the longer I go with an empty lap band, the more weight I will continue to gain. I'll have to see how nursing goes, and if it truly is a success, perhaps I can do a semi-fill 6 or 8 weeks after I start nursing.
Any day now my life will be forever changed. One minute I'll go from having a baby in my belly to having one in my arms. Suddenly, the most innocent and helpless little person on earth will be completely dependent upon me for everything; even her very life. I'm immensely overwhelmed by that responsibility. The only thing that brings me peace is knowing that millions of people do this every day...
My hands swell at night and go numb. It takes 30 minutes to an hour after I wake up to be able to make a fist. I know that the impressive 90 pound weight gain hasn't helped the situation one bit. I feel like such a failure in that regard. Given one chance to give myself an excuse, and I gain 90 pounds of the 120 I lost right back. Perfect. It simply reminds me that I truly need my lap band to be successful at weight loss. My doctor doesn't want me to re-fill my lap band again until I'm done nursing. I really want to make that happen for at least a year, and I don't know if I can wait that long to start losing again. I fear the longer I go with an empty lap band, the more weight I will continue to gain. I'll have to see how nursing goes, and if it truly is a success, perhaps I can do a semi-fill 6 or 8 weeks after I start nursing.
Any day now my life will be forever changed. One minute I'll go from having a baby in my belly to having one in my arms. Suddenly, the most innocent and helpless little person on earth will be completely dependent upon me for everything; even her very life. I'm immensely overwhelmed by that responsibility. The only thing that brings me peace is knowing that millions of people do this every day...
Monday, April 18, 2011
Wow, how times have changed...
My last blog was nearly two years ago. I've never really been good at staying consistent with anything. I tend to be such an open book with the people around me that the need for a journal or emotional release "on paper" is rarely needed. I've never had a problem with crying on one's shoulder or spending hours sharing, analyzing, or disecting every part of my life, thoughts, emotions, or feelings with people that are close to me. I'm pretty lucky to have said people in my life. I'm not the type to tell a complete stranger my life story, but with the one's who know me, they really know me. On a rare occasion, I might meet a stranger whom I feel a connection with and will share intimate details of my life with them, but it's usually very much reciprocated as a result of a common experience or circumstance. People have told me in the past that my being this way is dysfunctional. I've been told that it leaves no mystery and makes me very vulnerable. I can see how one might think that. I've had jaded seasons in life in which I've become closed off to people and/or situations as a reult of being hurt, but at the end of the day, wearing my heart and life on my sleeve is who I am and what I do. It makes me, me. And as the years go by, I'm finding that I'm more and more comfortable with who I am. Take it or leave it.
All that being said, I am overwhelmed by changes in my life currently. I talk and talk and talk and yet I feel no relief. Everything before me is so unknown and I feel like there is no resolution to my problem until those things become known.
2010 was the best year of my life to date. I had lost 120 pounds and was continuing down the scale.
For the first time in my life, I was beginning to know the feeling of being comfortable in my own skin. I felt attractive, vibrant, full of life and energy, for the first time...ever. All of this was made even sweeter by the fact that I had fully recovered from the worst year of my life in 2009. With depression, anxiety, and paralyzing agoraphobia in the rear view mirror, my life had become a celebration. Part of that celebration was meeting and falling in love with a man (for only the second time in my life). I actually had a legitimate boyfriend.
For people who know me, it is understood that this was quite a big deal. Although I had had many "relationships" over the years with men, they were never legitimate and almost always were dysfunctional in some way. But this was very different. I loved this man, and he loved me, and we were equally crazy about each other and excited for the future together. Or so I thought. I met Chris on a free dating website. I will never forget the first time I saw him. We met for our first date at Desert Breeze Park. I showed up with Starbucks and blankets and he had kites, bubbles, and other fun and silly goodies. We sat next to each other on that blanket for hours talking. This was one of those times that we both knew one another's life story before that date was over and there was no judgement- just acceptance of one another, where we had been, where we were going, and who we were. I knew before that date was over that this was going to turn into something real, meaningful, and legitimate. When it got dark, we knew we needed to leave the park, but neither of us were ready to go home. We went to a movie and whispered to each other the whole time-laughing, not paying attention at all. We left the movie having no idea what we had just watched, he kissed me, and we were inseparable from that moment forward. Our relationship was a total whirlwind. We fell in love hard and quickly. Everything moved quickly. Too quickly. But we loved every second of it. We were on a ride and neither of us wanted off. Until I spoke the two words that would forever change the course of both of our lives: "I'm pregnant."
Yes. Those are THREE different tests.
All of a sudden everything came crashing to a hault. It had only been a little over a month. Suddenly, we became keenly aware of how truly immature our relationship was. It had just begun, and although it was great, fantastic even, there were so many things we had yet to discover about one another. We were in no shape or form ready to make any kind of life long commitment, yet that is exactly what we had created. We were shocked, scared, and confused.
My entire life all I've ever wanted is to be a wife and mother. Although this was NEVER the way I would have planned to do this, it seemed as though this just might be something I could look forward to. I was with a man I loved, he loved me, and were going to try to make this work. He knew that abortion was never going to be an option for me. I didn't have it in me to terminate innocent life. We discussed the possibility of adoption, but I just couldn't. I wasn't sixteen. I had recently graduated from college and had a decent job. I had way too much support to even consider anything but keeping the baby and being its mother. At first, Chris was on board. We would constantly discuss baby names and discuss our finances over and over to see how we were going to make this work. At one point he told me he thought it would be a good idea for us to go to Babies R' Us or Target and go look at baby stuff. Although there was definitely some excitement attached to having a baby, neither one of us could eliminate the shock or fear that came with this huge responsibility; especially knowing that we had only been together for a very short time. After time, the stress became overwhelming. Everything was changing all at once and so unbelievably quickly. It felt like a train going downhill, picking up speed, with no ability to stop. We argued. A lot. About everything. I was so unbelievably exhausted with 1st trimester fatigue that I could barely stay awake for more than an hour at a time. I was nauseous, irritable, stressed, and overwhelmed. With time, Chris became more and more distant. I could sense he was completely freaking out. Our communication was failing. Everything started to fall apart. One afternoon on my way home from work, I made my regular "on the way home" call to Chris and without notice, completely unexpected, he dropped the bomb. In short- "I can't do this. I don't want this. I don't want you, and I strongly encourage you to put the baby up for adoption." I knew things had not been good between us for awhile, but looking at the circumstances we were facing, I never expected us to be doing exceptionally well. I saw it as a difficult season that we would pull through together. Well, he did not quite see it that way. He was done. And there was no convincing him otherwise. And I didn't try. I was never going to force a man to love me again. I had done that before. But what about my (our) baby? He said he felt like he had no say in the matter. He said that I was going to do whatever I wanted to do with my body and my baby and he had no say in the matter and was stuck with whatever my decision was. I told him I was keeping the baby and he had 3 choices. He could try to work this out and attempt his best effort at having a family, we could raise the baby broken up and share the responsibility, or he could sign his rights away and walk. He needed to think about it. I told him it was a big decision and that he could take his time to think it through. Suddenly I was single, and having a baby. That was quite a jagged pill to swallow. How had this happened? I went a month without getting an answer. In the meantime I had gone to my first and second dr's appointment, had an ultrasound, and cried many tears grieving the loss of a relationship and a dream. The grief had actually only just begun. I left him alone for the most part but as time was pressing on, I needed to begin to make some big decisions and I needed to know if I should include him in those or not. Finally, I received a text. Wow. A text. Gee thanks. "I think it would be best if I signed away my rights as I'm probably going to be out of a job and moving in the next few months." Why was he going to be out of a job? Where was he going? Did he honestly just have no sense of responsibility for this life he had helped create? Was he genuinely capable of being THAT cold? Man, apparently I had really missed the mark when I thought he was the greatest guy I had met in a really long time. Never in a million years did I think he was capable of doing something like this (even though I knew he had 3 kids before mine- one of which he didn't know, and the other 2 who lived across the country with their mom, his ex-wife of 7 years). Was I so desperate in my search for love and companionship that I had ignored virtually every red flag that came my way? How sad. So, it had been decided. I was doing this completely alone. He was out of the picture. To date, that's the last I've ever heard from him. Today I'm 34 1/2 weeks pregnant and it's crazy to think I've been pregnant for way longer than I was with him.
Someone told me something once that I will never forget. I was reminded that my precious baby was made in love. Chris and I were very much crazy about one another when we conceived. Regardless of what happened later, this baby was made by two consenting people who had a love, respect, and appreciation for one another. There is no mistake in that. And since then, God has continued to knit this baby together in my womb. Carefully and perfectly. He gave my baby FEMALE genitals and my heart is overwhelmed with joy at the thought of having my own precious daughter. My mind is overwhelmed with dreams and fantasies about the life we will share. In the Greek biblical translations, The word "Zoe" is used over and over throughout the pages of the Bible. In every instance it is used to represent the word "life." Life is what I chose. My sweet baby girl's name will be Zoe. Zoe Ann (after my sister and step-dad's mother). Here are some pictures of my sweet Zoe to date:
Isn't she beautiful? I'm definitely beginning to get the excitement bug. I want to meet her. I'm beginning to become undoubtedly uncomfortable as she gets bigger and bigger (overnight some nights, it seems). And as much as I am ready to be done, get her out, and meet her, I can't help but feel like I'm not quite ready for the huge responsibility. Am I ready for sleepless nights, sore nipples, acts of pure selflessness, and a life long commitment? No. But is one ever really ready? I doubt it. I have so many more thoughts, feelings, emotions, and experiences to uncover, but that will happen throughout the future pages of this blog. For now, this is what I have to share. Soul bear, tender bleeding heart, for all to see and know my story.
All that being said, I am overwhelmed by changes in my life currently. I talk and talk and talk and yet I feel no relief. Everything before me is so unknown and I feel like there is no resolution to my problem until those things become known.
2010 was the best year of my life to date. I had lost 120 pounds and was continuing down the scale.
For the first time in my life, I was beginning to know the feeling of being comfortable in my own skin. I felt attractive, vibrant, full of life and energy, for the first time...ever. All of this was made even sweeter by the fact that I had fully recovered from the worst year of my life in 2009. With depression, anxiety, and paralyzing agoraphobia in the rear view mirror, my life had become a celebration. Part of that celebration was meeting and falling in love with a man (for only the second time in my life). I actually had a legitimate boyfriend.
For people who know me, it is understood that this was quite a big deal. Although I had had many "relationships" over the years with men, they were never legitimate and almost always were dysfunctional in some way. But this was very different. I loved this man, and he loved me, and we were equally crazy about each other and excited for the future together. Or so I thought. I met Chris on a free dating website. I will never forget the first time I saw him. We met for our first date at Desert Breeze Park. I showed up with Starbucks and blankets and he had kites, bubbles, and other fun and silly goodies. We sat next to each other on that blanket for hours talking. This was one of those times that we both knew one another's life story before that date was over and there was no judgement- just acceptance of one another, where we had been, where we were going, and who we were. I knew before that date was over that this was going to turn into something real, meaningful, and legitimate. When it got dark, we knew we needed to leave the park, but neither of us were ready to go home. We went to a movie and whispered to each other the whole time-laughing, not paying attention at all. We left the movie having no idea what we had just watched, he kissed me, and we were inseparable from that moment forward. Our relationship was a total whirlwind. We fell in love hard and quickly. Everything moved quickly. Too quickly. But we loved every second of it. We were on a ride and neither of us wanted off. Until I spoke the two words that would forever change the course of both of our lives: "I'm pregnant."
Yes. Those are THREE different tests.All of a sudden everything came crashing to a hault. It had only been a little over a month. Suddenly, we became keenly aware of how truly immature our relationship was. It had just begun, and although it was great, fantastic even, there were so many things we had yet to discover about one another. We were in no shape or form ready to make any kind of life long commitment, yet that is exactly what we had created. We were shocked, scared, and confused.
My entire life all I've ever wanted is to be a wife and mother. Although this was NEVER the way I would have planned to do this, it seemed as though this just might be something I could look forward to. I was with a man I loved, he loved me, and were going to try to make this work. He knew that abortion was never going to be an option for me. I didn't have it in me to terminate innocent life. We discussed the possibility of adoption, but I just couldn't. I wasn't sixteen. I had recently graduated from college and had a decent job. I had way too much support to even consider anything but keeping the baby and being its mother. At first, Chris was on board. We would constantly discuss baby names and discuss our finances over and over to see how we were going to make this work. At one point he told me he thought it would be a good idea for us to go to Babies R' Us or Target and go look at baby stuff. Although there was definitely some excitement attached to having a baby, neither one of us could eliminate the shock or fear that came with this huge responsibility; especially knowing that we had only been together for a very short time. After time, the stress became overwhelming. Everything was changing all at once and so unbelievably quickly. It felt like a train going downhill, picking up speed, with no ability to stop. We argued. A lot. About everything. I was so unbelievably exhausted with 1st trimester fatigue that I could barely stay awake for more than an hour at a time. I was nauseous, irritable, stressed, and overwhelmed. With time, Chris became more and more distant. I could sense he was completely freaking out. Our communication was failing. Everything started to fall apart. One afternoon on my way home from work, I made my regular "on the way home" call to Chris and without notice, completely unexpected, he dropped the bomb. In short- "I can't do this. I don't want this. I don't want you, and I strongly encourage you to put the baby up for adoption." I knew things had not been good between us for awhile, but looking at the circumstances we were facing, I never expected us to be doing exceptionally well. I saw it as a difficult season that we would pull through together. Well, he did not quite see it that way. He was done. And there was no convincing him otherwise. And I didn't try. I was never going to force a man to love me again. I had done that before. But what about my (our) baby? He said he felt like he had no say in the matter. He said that I was going to do whatever I wanted to do with my body and my baby and he had no say in the matter and was stuck with whatever my decision was. I told him I was keeping the baby and he had 3 choices. He could try to work this out and attempt his best effort at having a family, we could raise the baby broken up and share the responsibility, or he could sign his rights away and walk. He needed to think about it. I told him it was a big decision and that he could take his time to think it through. Suddenly I was single, and having a baby. That was quite a jagged pill to swallow. How had this happened? I went a month without getting an answer. In the meantime I had gone to my first and second dr's appointment, had an ultrasound, and cried many tears grieving the loss of a relationship and a dream. The grief had actually only just begun. I left him alone for the most part but as time was pressing on, I needed to begin to make some big decisions and I needed to know if I should include him in those or not. Finally, I received a text. Wow. A text. Gee thanks. "I think it would be best if I signed away my rights as I'm probably going to be out of a job and moving in the next few months." Why was he going to be out of a job? Where was he going? Did he honestly just have no sense of responsibility for this life he had helped create? Was he genuinely capable of being THAT cold? Man, apparently I had really missed the mark when I thought he was the greatest guy I had met in a really long time. Never in a million years did I think he was capable of doing something like this (even though I knew he had 3 kids before mine- one of which he didn't know, and the other 2 who lived across the country with their mom, his ex-wife of 7 years). Was I so desperate in my search for love and companionship that I had ignored virtually every red flag that came my way? How sad. So, it had been decided. I was doing this completely alone. He was out of the picture. To date, that's the last I've ever heard from him. Today I'm 34 1/2 weeks pregnant and it's crazy to think I've been pregnant for way longer than I was with him.
Someone told me something once that I will never forget. I was reminded that my precious baby was made in love. Chris and I were very much crazy about one another when we conceived. Regardless of what happened later, this baby was made by two consenting people who had a love, respect, and appreciation for one another. There is no mistake in that. And since then, God has continued to knit this baby together in my womb. Carefully and perfectly. He gave my baby FEMALE genitals and my heart is overwhelmed with joy at the thought of having my own precious daughter. My mind is overwhelmed with dreams and fantasies about the life we will share. In the Greek biblical translations, The word "Zoe" is used over and over throughout the pages of the Bible. In every instance it is used to represent the word "life." Life is what I chose. My sweet baby girl's name will be Zoe. Zoe Ann (after my sister and step-dad's mother). Here are some pictures of my sweet Zoe to date:
Isn't she beautiful? I'm definitely beginning to get the excitement bug. I want to meet her. I'm beginning to become undoubtedly uncomfortable as she gets bigger and bigger (overnight some nights, it seems). And as much as I am ready to be done, get her out, and meet her, I can't help but feel like I'm not quite ready for the huge responsibility. Am I ready for sleepless nights, sore nipples, acts of pure selflessness, and a life long commitment? No. But is one ever really ready? I doubt it. I have so many more thoughts, feelings, emotions, and experiences to uncover, but that will happen throughout the future pages of this blog. For now, this is what I have to share. Soul bear, tender bleeding heart, for all to see and know my story.
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