Growing up so fast

I’ve read a few blog posts lately that talk about the tragedy of losing a child and also about the fear that comes with the next pregnancy. I wanted to tell a brief story about my own experiences with this as well as the emotional turmoil of having a baby daddy who could care less. The point of this isn’t a pity party but to show what good can come from so much strife.

I look at my oldest and I realize that he’s not a baby anymore. He’s still my baby, but he is getting older. He can communicate his needs and man is he independent. The last 3.5 years have flown by and looking back I can see that having him is where my life truly began.

The situation around his conception and birth was far from ideal. I was living with my ex husband hoping to work things out when I found out I was pregnant. He, of course, wanted nothing to do with me or the baby and I found myself totally and completely depressed. He and I had been pregnant once before right after we had got married and it ended in a miscarriage early in the pregnancy. This misfortune marked the beginning of a failing relationship. It left an emotional scar that will never be completely healed that resurfaces in the form of fear and unease during each subsequent pregnancy.

I openly admit that I have struggled with depression and anxiety disorders my entire life but during my pregnancy with Merrick they reached their pentacle. I felt totally lost. Here I was, living with a man who I deeply loved and was once loved by in return and who could now care less about me or our unborn child. Not to mention that I was in constant fear of another miscarriage. It was devastating. Since we were no longer married, people asked me if I even knew who the father was which only made me feel worse. Of course I knew and so did he. Parts of his family still deny he is their kin because of the situation.

I was pretty sure that my life was falling apart around me at this point and I distinctly remember feeling like I couldn’t go on.

Then it happened. He was born.

I remember the day he was born. I remember the long labor before his arrival. I remember my arms being to weak to hold him when they finally handed him to me. I remember him laying on my chest and looking at me with those beautiful innocent little eyes. I remember it all like it was yesterday.

Having him turned my world around. Holding him in my arms made my problems disappear. It was a cure for all the depression and worries that had built up inside of me. It was an intense feeling of relief and hope that washed over me.

Now I look at this little boy and it amazes me that he has grown so much. I can’t believe Merrick is almost 4. Not a day goes by that I am not overwhelmed by my love for him and Silas. I am continually amazed at his abilities and skills. He’s growing up so fast and I want nothing more than to raise him so that he will be a good person full of compassion and love.

After all of this is said…I can’t see how anyone could deny the existence of God if they have ever comforted a sick child or looked into their child’s eyes for the first time and felt true, unconditional love. How can you deny it when this precious gift has been handed to you? I, of course, doubted the existence of any great and supreme being after my miscarriage, I couldn’t understand why God would want anyone who wanted a child so badly to endure so much pain. After holding my sons there is no way I could ever deny it again and I am thankful everyday for the opportunity to be a part of something so beautiful. Experiencing the pain that came with the miscarriage made the birth of my son that much more amazing to me. It forced me to see the miracle that lay before me in a different light. I only wish I could have realized this sooner and I hope that people going through a bad situation can see the light at the end of the tunnel and know that things will get better.

Merrick Mama loves you and your brother more than you could ever possibly know. I look forward to seeing the people you both become.

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Feels like forever

Silas and his dada

This is a few weeks old, but there he is...the puking babe.

Feels like forever since my last post.

My youngest son, Silas, has been sick for 8 days now and he seems to finally be getting better. This makes me very excited as a projectile vomiting 6 month old is absolutely no fun. I am thankful that he is finally getting better and I pray that he will stay better this time instead of getting sick in a few days like he did last week.

It is also getting very close to the end of the semester, which really only means that I have a ton of work to get done and only about a week and a half to do it in. So, you may be asking yourself why I am writing a blog post rather than doing my homework…and the answer is quite simple, which would you rather do? Fun blog post or boring homework?

We were planning on moving next week, but things just didn’t work out. I’m not terribly upset by this but it would have been nice to get away from this little town. I figure that when the time is right we will be able to move without all of the problems and setbacks that we experienced this time. My attempted move and the garage sale that failed miserably because of it, has however, turned out to be a blessing for a few lucky people.

Instead of putting everything back in storage I have decided to donate all of my baby items, most of which are practically new to a young lady who is in desperate need. I was only asked if I could donate some newborn clothes, but when I found out that she has nothing for this baby I couldn’t help but feel like I should give her all of the extra baby things that I have had in storage for the last 6 months. At least now they will be with someone who really needs them.

A couple of the bows I've made in the past

In case you don’t already know, I make hair bows, tutus, pillowcase dresses and other small items for little girls. Some of the things I have made already have been in storage for over a year, since I stopped traveling to craft shows. I have decided that they, much like the baby items, aren’t doing anyone any good sitting in my garage. So far I have found about 12 little girls who’s parents are unable to provide a Christmas for them and I am splitting up what I have left between them. I really hope that by donating these items to these children that they will have a wonderful holiday like I did as a child.

I have received so many emails from parents who cannot afford to provide for their children this holiday season which makes me realized how blessed I am that we are able to provide for ourselves and our children. We are lucky that Chase has a good job and that he does whatever he has to in order to ensure that we have a roof over our head and food on our plates. I honestly couldn’t ask for a better husband and father to my boys.

Really, who needs privacy?

I think that one thing people don’t tell you when you are having kids or thinking about having kids is how you no longer have a shred of privacy. My three year old, Merrick, follows me everywhere. I don’t mind, maybe because I am used to it, but it drives my husband crazy to see him “stuck up my butt” all the time (his words not mine).

Sometimes I get a little jealous of my husband, usually after a particularly stressful day of screaming Silas and maniac Merrick. He gets to shower without the kids. He gets to potty without the kids. He gets to go to work without the kids. And, he generally gets to sleep without the kids waking him up. Man, it must be nice to have little bits of time to yourself. If I took a shower without Merrick coming in at least once I would probably be worried that he was trying to pick up the baby, or torturing the cats or even setting the house on fire somehow.

Don’t get me wrong, Chase helps with the kids quite a bit when he’s home. However, since he works 60+ hours a week he just isn’t home that much and a good deal of his home time is spent sleeping so he can get up and go back to work. Merrick has also decided that Dada cannot help him do anything, it has to be Mama. If Dada even tries to help it’s crazy screaming fit time. It’s really quite frustrating and stressful so I usually just try to do it myself. I’m assuming this is just a 3 year old thing and he will get back to nice, sweet, good boy Merrick soon enough.

Anyway, back to privacy. I would just like to tell all of those young girls who want to be a mommy something that no one told me until after it was already happening. Be prepared to lose any little piece of privacy you think you might have, at least if you want to be a stay home mom. I would not trade being a mom for anything in the world. I love it, most days, and I love my kids more than life itself, but sometimes it gets a little overwhelming.

I will leave you with a video that makes me love being a mommy. Merrick is making Silas laugh like crazy. Silas just loves his brother so much. He loves to watch him act like a maniac and gets so excited when he gets down on the floor and plays with him!

 

God, I love ya.

God, I love ya

"God, I love ya." ~Merrick

Starting with the good:
My three year old son, Merrick, has been very interested in watching my husband and I pray. A couple of days ago while I was in the bedroom praying he went into his room and got out one of his small blankets and spread it out on the floor and informed me that he was going to pray as well. He wanted his own flash cards and he took one of his dada’s hats to wear as well. It may be the sweetest thing I have ever seen, and I am proud of him. Today, when he decided it was a good time to pray he even “put his head on the floor” and started saying “God, I love ya.” It’s ridiculously cute and I can’t help but smile and laugh when he does it. When he’s done he puts his hat and his cards in his hat drawer and puts his blanket away also. These may be the only items that he has ever taken the initiative of putting away himself!

And on to the not so good:
After all of this cuteness I decided to show my mom the picture I took of him “putting his head on the floor”. She kinda killed my buzz. She acted totally appalled at the picture and that I was encouraging her grandson to do that. When I told her that we were converting she acted like she was going to be supportive. Since then she has informed me that she will not leave the house with me if I wear “one of those things” over my head (it’s a scarf mom!), seems totally freaked out by me wearing long sleeve shirts and told my husband that she didn’t want to hear him speak any Arabic when he mentioned it.

Now, I don’t wear a scarf on my head all of the time, I’m still trying to get used to it. However, it seems ridiculous that I have to take it off before I go to my moms in order to avoid her comments. Her and my grandmother are convinced that by “wearing that thing on my head” I am destined to become a victim of a hate crime. Honestly, I don’t wear it around the town that I live in because it is a small, redneck kind of town and I just don’t want to deal with the ignorance of the people here…however I do wear it when we go to the metroplex. (And guess what, I’m not the only person I see with a scarf on their head)

It’s all a little frustrating to me. I have always felt like I can talk to her about nearly anything. I was scared to death to tell her that we were converting and she told me that she didn’t understand why I would be scared to tell her and seemed like she was going to be very supportive. I guess that the supportive thing is getting old and it’s time to ignore my feelings about it.

I’m not mad at her, I’m sure this is all hard for her to understand. After all, I have always cursed like a sailor (still working on this one), worn low cut blouses and of course never associated myself with any form of religion. To say that I have changed a few things about myself may be an understatement. I am hoping that she will recognize that the changes are for the better and learn to be more supportive, even if she doesn’t agree 100% with my choice. I also hope that she will recognize that Merrick is my son and I will raise him the way that I believe to be right and respect that as well. I guess that only time will tell.