Articles

May 08 2012

… Mother’s Day…

Author: Kerry

I remember when I found out I couldn’t have children… as all my friends were starting families…Holding precious little bundles… I remember being so sad… Because all I wanted was to be a mother… and crying each year … I remember when I became a mother (OH! There is another post there… And to think I had nothing left to write about when I started this)… Because they were wrong… and I had a little blue perfect bundle of my own… And I really came to understand what love was… and what life was about.. and who I really was… And he stared at me with adoring eyes that lit up whenever I entered the room… and when he told me he wanted to marry me when he grew up (he was two) and when he started to call me Yaya (Not momma, not my child apparently)… it turned to mommy… he laughed with me… he played with me.. he stuck lipstick up my nose and in my ears when I dozed off… Mothers Day! I loved it…
Then I became a Mother again … To a teenager… a broken little girl… who I had the honor of witnessing her mending… and thanked my lucky stars everyday for having been blessed with her … I couldn’t imagine life without her… And I accepted it, and I let it happen… and I was spoiled on Mother’s day each year… With mothers rings… and candles and incents… bubble baths… bathrobes…
Then there was the Mothers day… Towards the End with the father… He tried.. In his drunken, prescription pill induced haze to recreate any kind of goodness… He bought my favorite movie (I had pleaded for it.. and the time to watch it)… but when that time came… I couldn’t let him take the children… I couldn’t trust him with them… Not to drive… He grabbed them both… as I screamed in terror and fury after him… not to take them (They were so confused… they didn’t understand what was happening… only that I had lost my mind at this point… They didn’t know there was anything wrong with him… this was how they knew him… I had tried to protect them from knowing the truth… and now they didn’t understand)…. 16 and 6 years old… and he took them, I… in a heap of tears… and disappeared for two hours… I never watched the movie… I stayed on the floor… by the door until he brought them back… and I made him leave. That was the end… I know that now… It dragged on so much longer, but I knew at that point… He had taken my children
… And Mothers Day became something new…Mothers day became a day to celebrate children.. And the miracle of them… and my right… My RIGHT… to keep them safe, and be loved, and not about candles, rings, bubble baths… time alone… It became my day to remember how grateful I am for my children… And all children… and how magical they are… Suddenly Mothers day contained no pity… no anger… no self justified righteousness about being appreciated… and spoiled…. It became about the miracle of life…
I have had three momentous mothers’ days since that turning point…. … Mother’s day is the day I had my little sister’s children three years ago… because she wasn’t alive enough to be their mother that day… I was so grateful for the lesson that brought me… that I wasn’t the drunk sister, and I wasn’t the sister lying in a bed on life support… I was surrounded by all these small faces and fed all these mouths a breakfast I prepared! Not laid in bed and was served… and was so grateful….
Two mother’s day ago… My favorite gift ever from my Son (the one miracle I actually gave birth too)… He was so sad… Because his father was so cruel… he didn’t help him.. he had nothing to give… and I woke up to a small hand written note… with all the pennies he could find in his several hiding places (it was about a dollar and a half)… The note read… “Mommy, I love you… me love you long time (ha ha! He had heard this phrase)… Happy Mother’s Day”…. And all the change was wrapped up in it (This note still hangs on my fridge… I giggle each time I see it)… ;And I cried and cried, and hugged him and hugged him… and this was the year his sister decided to have three dates on Mother’s day rather than see me or call… I got a text… And it hurt at the time, but honestly, I must have done something right with her.. she was off and living her own life, independently…. Don’t worry… This is followed by my next favorite gift… Which I received last year (She was so terrified of missing it… I might have tortured her for her thoughtlessness) and the promise of a visit… on the right day…. (I’m not holding my breath)… and the favorite part of this gift was she was on her two feet, after the year she has had… and facing her own first mother’s day… even though she has buried her angel… and she thought of me… Just me…

I have several children who wish me Happy Mother’s Day besides my two (including my newest little addition courtesy of Mr. amazing I Now have Tall child, small child… and smallest child)… and I have several mothers I call besides my own and including my own!… and in the divorce decree… I get my son… And he will never again push me down, and take my babies… and I will hold and hug anyone elses babies who were blessed with the ability to birth them… but too lost to take care of them.. who need me too…. Mother’s Day… its really children’s day.
I don’t know who is reading this… I don’t know who continues to read my ramblings and rants… These can’t mean something to anyone but me… But I write them, because I Live Them… and it means something to me…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Topic source from my fav place 🙂 

May 03 2012

You’re welcome to read this…. I don’t have much to offer other than fried chicken

Author: Kerry

The lie I tell most often? “I’m not good enough”…

And “I have fried chicken”… I don’t really have fried chicken …. What I do have is  this story instead.

I don’t really know where to start…  at the beginning of the school year I gave my son the silent treatment for the first time although… this is not the first time he has done this… so before you judge my tactics…. he is a master of his art…. Shaggy blonde hair… innocent blue eyes… Looking up at me through those glasses I saved up for so that he would not be unstylish in Jr. High… While standing next to his viola that I rent (not just one, but two .. so he doesn’t have to carry it to school everyday) … and a hand on his keyboard (nice keyboard)… “I Practiced mom” and I glance down at his voice recorder, that is obviously not plugged in… and no chair is pushed up to the keyboard… no music on the stand  … My eyes make their way to the bag that holds all of his music books (I couldn’t even begin to recall what I have invested in those) … zipped shut.. untouched… And look back at him and suggest he try a difference response… he chokes and sputters a little… I shut his door and leave him to his practicing … and head to my bedroom… I close my door, giving myself a timeout…  Before I drive him in complete silence to his lessons (155$ monthly) … and he doesn’t break… The conflict in his mind is almost palpable… He is not going to burst into tears and apologize… he is too old for that … and I am not going to let it go… Calmly I turn to him and tell him I am not friends with liars… and so he can’t expect me to be friendly… I tell him to think of his own punishment… and it better hurt… He suggests no Netflix for a month… I scoff at him… With his schedule (that he chooses, good god please don’t start on me for pushing him too hard… I promise you I don’t have that kind of energy… this is him) There is no TV… and he doesn’t care… He then tries video games… again I scoff and suggest we find a new home for his fish (poor things died this winter anyways)… Tears! oh… almost over the rim.. is he going to break? … nope… He suggests giving up his Halloween Plans… this seems feasible to me… A few tears roll over his cheek and we agree… I don’t launch into the whole single mom bit… it obviously didn’t work last time… I don’t launch into that everything in my life I do… I do for him… So he can have these lessons he wants so badly… And these instruments… Instead I inform him that he could possibly end up a serial killer… Yes yes… I did… And I asked him if it was easier to lie to me this time… was that sick feeling is his stomach easing up… and if so… what would he have to do to get it back… I told him guilt was his friend… and he better embrace it… because if he didn’t feel it… he would be capable of horrible things… this scared him a little…

This post was inspired by… if not really done as prompted by  Mama Kat’s prompt: List a lie that you consistently tell…. 

May 02 2012

*cough*bullshit*cough*

Author: Kerry

It’s been a couple of weeks now… since the onset… quite a long run for me of not wanting to get out of bed… not being able to engage in conversation with my loved ones… feeling like I am looking at life through some kind of film.. or screen… or transparent shell…. Not sleeping … not really able to focus on anything… a book… a movie… a game..

…and I wanted to write about this pit  I seem to have willingly or unwillingly flung myself into… because it is on the list of cures… you know them right? call a friend… relax… take a bath… exercise… walk … work in the garden… paint… play music…These cures to fix these hours and hours of self loathing… personal berating… tears that come even when I sleep… which hasn’t been a lot… because whether this be depression… or anxiety… or insomnia… they are all lovers of each other… and are combined in one  mess… and it manifests itself onto others as words not meant to sounds that harsh… and frustrations… and exasperation… and unhappiness that simply aren’t real

….  So I sat here and prepared to get it all down and out… and talk about it… and then I looked around … and saw everyone else writing about it… The Bloggess as usual (usual=althefuckingways) … says it best … Even the Headologist tweets today about feeling so sad bastardy… and I found myself wondering what the hell is going on? I mean… the sun is shining in most areas… it is spring… the winter blahs are supposed to have dissipated…

And I thought maybe… just maybe… I should not dwell on it… and continue to breathe… and wait… and I took out the headphones that had music that perfectly expressed those feelings… I might have to feel them… but I am done embracing them for now… and I will wait… And I will even spare you the “this too shall pass” and “learn to dance in the rain” *cough*bullshit*cough* … I will leave you with the one thing… that always… no matter how far I am away from real… helps..
Honestly.. I couldn’t even tell you why …

 

Apr 13 2012

Paraskevidekatriaphobia— the fear of Friday the 13th

Author: Kerry

2012  a bad year for people who suffer from paraskevidekatriaphobia — the fear of Friday the 13th…. Maybe those damn mayans had it!

Why? …  There are three this year… instead of the usual two…. There was one in 2011.

That’s not all. For the first time since 1984, those three Friday the 13ths — Jan. 13, April 13 and July 13 — are exactly 13 weeks apart.

But! before we all grab our chain saws and make for the local summer camps… Is there any truth to the unlucky legends of Friday the 13th?

Sometimes, everything you know is wrong… No, you’re not stupid… you are the victim of urban legends – modern folklore tales that have the ring of truth but are almost always false.

Legends often have elements of horror or humor, they are fun to talk about and spread…. There is also a certain paranoid strain within any population that is willing to believe those stories that feed their paranoia (I personally, prefer to be around these people, as they are easy targets and make me feel smart!)

Some urban legends are repeated again and again on television shows, such as the Kidney Heist legend: being knocked out and waking up with a kidney missing….  Law and Order had a field day with that one….

Thank god for Myth Busters… right?

The Smalls can be excused for being naturally gullible, but adults who “should know better” are the real culprits of these myths… President Franklin D. Roosevelt would not depart on a (train) trip on the 13th

… FYI! For many pagans, 13 is a lucky number, because it corresponds with the number of full moons each year

And does anyone know – is Dr. Pepper really prune soda?

 

Apr 03 2012

My Vagina hates Santorum…

Author: Kerry

Gchat Stream –

me:  I kinda want to make my status update of the day be “My Vagina hates Santorum” … But I dont think i can LMAO

Mr.Amazing: lol   not a good idea

me: I didnt post it… but it was funny…

Mr.Amazing: questions will inevitably arise, like “how do you know? you have Santorum in your vagina lately?”

me: Noooo I dont think so… well maybe from you… but no one else im friends with would have the guts to respond to that LMAO

Mr.Amazing: lol there is always womb for Santorum, Santorum, pro womb

me: ROTFL!! That is horrible

Mr.Amazing: Santorum will never clean your womb
that’s the worst ever – btw

me: That was soooooo bad!

Mr.Amazing: I am so pro life
but before a brain has formed, I have a hard time forming an argument
but seriously, I hate it

me:  So this is why even though I am pro life, I dont judge other people based on their opinions, I dont feel I have the right to legislate a womans womb so
keep government out of my womb
HAHA! that should be my status update
Mr.Amazing: no womb for government

me: Exactly!!!

Apr 01 2012

Every Soul… A star

Author: Kerry

My Angels angel…

I remember when Tall Child first called me… “We want to bring you dinner”

We? The new boyfriend that I met a few weeks prior? He seems nice enough… and encouraging her to spend time with me gets a bonus point… “I would love that”

I know there is more to this… I knew immediately… But I didn’t let my conscious mind wrap itself around that yet… and looked forward to the visit instead….

Tuesday night… 5:45 pm… phone rings.. Tearful daughter… “Mom, we aren’t going to make it down… I didn’t want to do this over the phone… I’m pregnant”… Breathe… all I say is… “I love you”… breathe… “Thanks mom”….” We will talk about it when you can come … How can I get you to come see me…” we make arrangements for a few nights later… I figure out something else to feed my son for dinner… and I crawl onto my bed and cry… and cry… and cry… pause.. put son to bed… cry some more… wake up to a wet pillow, I’ve been crying in my sleep…

A couple of days later, Tearful Enraged Mother and Tearful Enraged Daughter have it out… Just the two of us… and it’s not pretty… but we come to an understanding… it is her life… and I love her… that is all that matters…

But, I will not be called grandma!

Flash forward a few weeks… I force myself to buy baby diapers at the store… I am getting used to the idea… I hold friends babies, and coo and ahhhh at them and smile… maybe I can do this… I try to communicate with daughter… I try to be supportive… Christmas has arrived; there are presents under the tree labeled “Baby”… The previous mentioned diapers… a teddy bear frying pan… Only teddy bear pancakes are good enough for this baby on the way… Christmas is a family event, I have everyone I love under one roof, that can be under the roof… and I am sure that everything is going to be okay….

Flash forward a few weeks… My cell phone rings… I am expecting the call, she calls after all of her doctor’s appointments to tell me how the baby is doing…. I smile at her picture that pops up on my phone when she calls “Hi angel girl”…. “Mom”….”Honey… what’s wrong?”…. “There is something wrong with the baby… there are these lumps on her neck… They said they are cysts… they are running tests… we are not panicking yet….”… desperately trying to find something to write on… “Heather, tell me what they are called… spell it for me?”…. “Cystic Hygroma… They said not to google it… that it would only be upsetting”… “Of course honey” I am already typing it in on the computer… I tell her I love her and to let me know what she learns…. And that I can be there in a heartbeat if she needs me… as I look at the monitor on images of babies with cystic Hygroma… Tears fill my eyes and dread fills my stomach… and I read, and I read, and I study… and I know the outcome and the odds… and I am prepared… this baby is going to be just fine… as long as it doesn’t develop into Hydrops… the cysts will dissolve… and we will get through this….

Flash Forward a few weeks… “Mom… they are running more tests… the baby is missing a chromosome…” I am already typing on the computer… oh my god… please don’t take this baby from my baby… Missing chromosome.. Google’s response? Down syndrome…. A Down syndrome baby… my heart does a little leap… we could raise a little down syndrome baby, I have worked with children my whole life and have a lot of experience with down syndrome… they are the most beautiful children in the world… We can do this… I continue to walk the baby aisle every time I grocery shop, just waiting to find out of it is a boy or a girl…

Flash Forward one week…Cystic Hygroma, It has now developed into hydrops… The baby is not going to make it… There is not chance… They give her two weeks… and Tall Child gives her a name. My heart feels like it is breaking, breaking for my angel girl… and her angel as well… we wait and we wait, each Friday they check to see if the baby has passed on… but she doesn’t, she can be seen on the ultrasound, moving around, waving at her Mommy and Daddy on the screen… Licking her fingers… playing with her toes… Soon Tall Child can feel her moving, they both feel her kick… by placing their hands on her stomach, she is showing for sure now… Tall Child cooks teddy bear pancakes and eats them, She sends me a text that says “I made teddy bear pancakes for Corynn today, I think she liked them”….

Every Friday my throat tightens, and I work until I hear from her and then fly across the valley as fast as my little car will go to her… to check on her… to see the ultrasound images…. Pause Here for a moment… Tall child could have ended this from the moment she learned the baby wasn’t going to make it… Tall child could have chosen to terminate and have a D&C, But she chose a different option, She wanted to wait and let it happen naturally, and then she chose to have the baby, and keep her as whole and baby like as possible, This was no small task, because Corynn didn’t pass away in two weeks like was predicted…

Tall Child let her belly grow, and went through some of the hardest things of pregnancy … and then prepared to give birth to this little angel. Flash forward to this last Wednesday… The text comes in… “Just had an apt. Corynns heart rate is very low. We have another apt. On Friday and the doctor suspects she will have died by then.” “I love you angel girl what can I do to support you?” “I have no idea The doctor kept telling us to have a clear idea of what we wanted to do at the hospital … and burial… and I don’t know what I’m going to do” “I think you should have a plan… What do you believe in when it comes to that?” “We are talking about it right now… There is one thing I need” “ What? Anything” “A Blanket. At the hospital they will wrap her in it and bring her to me and then the support group will make a bear out of it I would love for you to pick it out” “ I am so so so honored to do that I will go right away and it will be amazing” “Thank you” “I Love you, you can call me if you need anything, I am very proud of you and your daughter” “Thanks mom”…

HOW! How do I give my angel girl her baby? When all she will have to remember her by is this blanket? How am I doing to do this… I walk the aisles of Babys R US, HATING every single person in that store… those people shopping for babies that are alive… Grandmothers for their grandchildren… mothers for their young… I am desperate, and so sad, it overwhelms me, drowns me, and I shop in sunglasses, tears pouring down my face… I find the perfect blanket (I hope it is at least) and I pay for it… hating the cashier with every offer of baby registries and frequent shoppers cards… I wont be needing those… I throw my card at her and buy this beautiful blanket… It is getting hard to walk, I feel sadness physically at this point…

Flash Forward to Friday… The doctor’s visit went as they predicted… The baby’s heart has stopped beating, I went to the national star registry and named a star after this little baby, I put her in the Aries constellation because that is where her birth date will fall… The star is named Corynn Lily… After Corynn Lily … I wrote her a little message that will get launched into space on some future date… with her name and the coordinates of her star….”Instead of little feet, you grew wings, tonight a new star adorns the sky, a new voice joins the choir of angels and sings” … I spend Sunday with Tall Child… They have scheduled inducing labor for first thing Monday morning, I take her to buy some comfortable clothes, and out to breakfast, and I show her the blankets I have chosen, and the certificate for the star as well as a satellite image of it, and a star chart showing it as well…. They have at this time planned where to bury her, thought of caskets… have someone sewing a special small dress…. We all start to prepare for the following day, I leave mommy and daddy alone, and go home and am surrounded by and comforted….

Fast forward to Monday, March 28, 2011,  they are checked in and have text me the room number and I make it right up to them … And we wait… We talk a little… I completely lose it when the social worker comes and gives them a little box of remembrance, the people here are kind, and careful, and refer to the baby by name, and to me as Grandma…I’m so okay being called Grandma… They seem to take things a little better than I do, I glare at the newborn window every time I pass it… and as the social worker leaves, I go walk outside in the crazy snow and try to catch my breath… I need to be tougher… I need to try to not cry all day… Her room is right above the helicopter landing pad…. The sounds of the life flight helicopter will always haunt me… that’s another story…. But I listen to them all day, they give her an epidural at 4pm, she is just now starting to feel contractions, and there is no need for her to feel any pain at all… I’m sitting here in the waiting room typing this… I see an older couple walking the halls, she is older than I, and pregnant, I’m sure they are trying to speed up labor… for the first time I don’t hate the woman who walks past me… Tall Child will be here again one day… I’m sure of it… 6pm she is dilated to a one and her water broke…sitting in the lobby so she can sleep some… its nine pm… no change… 3 am dilated to a two…. 4 am a two…. 5 am… She was getting more medicine to help her induce when a very strange look crossed her face… “Something just happened” to the nurse and I…. The nurse checks her… the same strange look passes her face… “You are at least a six, I am paging the doctor now”… The doctor is here within fifteen minutes… and I leave the room, because Mommy and Daddy want to have some privacy… By Five Thirty, and it is over…. Emotions are running very high, I might be verbally assaulting every person that walks by me with tearful pleas of how she is… They all assure me she is okay, their answer isn’t enough, and I continue to ask again and again… Mr. Amazing comes and takes me to sit down, worried that I might agitate them just on the other side of that door, and only twenty minutes pass before he comes to get me, and let me in to see her.. And there she is, holding that little bundle wrapped in pink… I am so relieved to see that they all hadn’t been lying to me, she is okay…. I took a turn saying my goodbyes to that little angel as well… I left my beautiful strong daughter in the care of the most amazing and tender nurses… and let her rest finally. And then she will lay corynn to rest as well…. I am so proud of both of them.

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