Into The Dark
Father of mine, one day you did die
But we’ll someday be behind
to follow you into the dark
Were your hands clasped tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark?
Was there blinding light?
And a tunnel to gates of white?
You and we have seen everything to see
From Charlottetown to Calgary
And the soles of your shoes are all worn down
The time for sleep is now
It's something we cry about
But we'll see each other soon in the whitest of rooms
In Catholic school
As vicious as Roman rule
you got your knuckles bruised by a father in black
I’m sure you didn’t hold your tongue as he said
"Son fear is the heart of love"
And I know you had a hard time going back
But we know heaven will decide
That its rules are satisfied
We’ll all be together when we finish our last ride
What was there to greet you
When your soul embarked?
Someday we’ll know
As we follow you into the dark
You’ll show us our own way through the dark
Apologies to the band "Death Cab for Cutie" - for I ripped these lyrics off from you and edited them for my own purposes. Sorry, but its all in the name of healing.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Thursday, September 07, 2006
scared of the challenge
Now that my daughter is 14 months old, I'm starting to feel that its time to prepare for another child. But at this time, I don't think I'm totally ready. I'd like to be able to have a period of non-decision for awhile, and even have the luxury of spacing my children wide apart (4 years or more), but I dont feel I have time on my side. I'm 36 turning 37 in January, and I dont feel I have THAT much time to wait. I hate this battle between my own common sense and knowing my own limits, and ye-olde biological clock, not just ticking loudly but SCREAMING its bloody head off in my ear.
Despite some women having children in their 40's, I have decided to put a limit on my childbearing years (of course I could always change my mind, right?). I dont want to put myself through the worry of having a baby in my 40's, with all those scary risk-of-genetic-problem statistics staring me in the face. Having my first baby at 35 was scary enough for that reason, and the stats were not as scary as they are right now. They will only get worse as I approach 38-39. I also dont want to hear the comments of unsupportive and tactless people who were lucky enough to have been able to have kids in their 20's saying "aren't you too old for a baby"?
The other day, I realized that I'll be just about at retirement age when my daughter graduates from high school. I'm still trying to figure out if that is a good thing or a bad thing. Will I miss out on a chance to further my career without having to be a day-to-day parent again, or will I be ready to retire and focus on myself all of a sudden?
But none of this really was in my hands to manage. For a variety of reasons, I didn't find anyone I wanted to start a family with until I was 31. We didn't marry until 34. I got pregnant on my wedding night so I didnt delay anything there. Part of me regrets that decision as I don't think we'll get a chance to celebrate our wedding anniversaries alone as a couple for the next 15 years. However, I dont regret for a minute the child we wound up creating.
Our daughter is the most amazing, beautiful child I've ever known. I'm so lucky and so blessed to have such an incredible little girl living in my house. She's a total ray of sunshine, every single day. I've not seen a bad mood in that child yet - even when she's sick or teething she still manages to push a smile and a giggle through her tears. She's pure joy, pure happiness, pure self-confidence. I thank God every day that He chose us to be her parents. So on that note.. I start to dream... I can't help wondering if a second one would be just as beautiful and fulfilling, not to mention the fact that we'd be giving our wonderful daughter a sibling....
....and then I snap back to reality.
I am also very aware now, as a parent of a young child, how much work it is to be a parent. And how tired I get dashing to work, dashing to daycare, dashing to get supper on the table, dashing to get Abby to her bath and bed, and then starting the cleanup and laundry until well into the night. Its exhausting. Not to mention the constant worries I have about her safety as she toddles and careens around the house, tripping, falling, crashing, jumping, running.... I wouldnt be as able to watch two kids as closely, I certainly would not have as much time to myself as I do now (with one child and a full time career "me time" is definitely at a premium).
However, this doesnt even compare to the work of her newborn days - when day blurred into night, when she cried and ate round the clock, when I would get habitualized to wake so many times that hallucinated her cries when I was in the shower, and my sleep patterns were so disturbed that I stopped being able to sleep at ALL. Do I really want to go through that again?
Caring for a newborn is hard enough.. but for me, it was harder than most. I suffered a brutal, difficult, gruelling 36 hour, complicated delivery. I severely strained my right rotator cuff, created bleeding "butt fissures" (use your imagination) that lasted for months, and I even cracked a tooth that needed repair shortly afterwards. I hemmorrhaged quite badly afterwards, and our baby was exhausted and had to spend the first night outside the womb in the NICU. I needed lots of help just for myself. I was so overwhelmed, sore and sick by the time I went home with my baby. In addition to everything else I had, I had a nasty urinary tract infection, a bad case of anemia and a burgeoning gallstone problem that had not yet reared its ugly head.
After 8 weeks of this, the pressure became all to great and I had a nervous breakdown and wound up in intensive treatment for postpartum depression. It was all I could do to convince myself I could get through the day alone with a baby, and here I go wanting another one?
I wish I could discuss this more with my husband, but he's admitted he's still so nervous with our daughter that he's not even sure how he's going to make it through the end of today with her, let alone PONDER another one. And I have to admit, that I feel that way too a good part of the time.
However, some days I look at how far I've come as a mother, a grieving daughter, and also as a patient. The capacity for the human mind and body to heal is truly amazing. On these days, I wonder, if the anxiety we're feeling now will come back to bite us in the butt with the deep sting of regret should we choose to cave into our anxieties and not have another baby.
I'm already seeing the paybacks of our early parenting months and years in the absolute JOY that my daughter has within her. Each smile, each giggle, each hug just puts me on a high that I'm sure NO drug could ever match. The warmth of us sitting around the table, having dinner, or heading outside as a family, to the park to play is so incredible.
With everything that happened during the birth and afterwards, I think its natural for us to be scared. But I have to believe that the second time around would be different. I hope I've learned some valuable lessons on my limits and what can happen if I continue to push myself way beyond them, and when and HOW to ask for help that I might need in the future. Maybe we'll have less down time, thats a given for the first year of a baby's life anyhow. Should we try for another one, we'll definitely have to be more creative. If we expand our network of babysitters and caregivers, better schedule our "me" and "us" time, and pray that things will work out for the best, how can we go wrong?
Despite some women having children in their 40's, I have decided to put a limit on my childbearing years (of course I could always change my mind, right?). I dont want to put myself through the worry of having a baby in my 40's, with all those scary risk-of-genetic-problem statistics staring me in the face. Having my first baby at 35 was scary enough for that reason, and the stats were not as scary as they are right now. They will only get worse as I approach 38-39. I also dont want to hear the comments of unsupportive and tactless people who were lucky enough to have been able to have kids in their 20's saying "aren't you too old for a baby"?
The other day, I realized that I'll be just about at retirement age when my daughter graduates from high school. I'm still trying to figure out if that is a good thing or a bad thing. Will I miss out on a chance to further my career without having to be a day-to-day parent again, or will I be ready to retire and focus on myself all of a sudden?
But none of this really was in my hands to manage. For a variety of reasons, I didn't find anyone I wanted to start a family with until I was 31. We didn't marry until 34. I got pregnant on my wedding night so I didnt delay anything there. Part of me regrets that decision as I don't think we'll get a chance to celebrate our wedding anniversaries alone as a couple for the next 15 years. However, I dont regret for a minute the child we wound up creating.
Our daughter is the most amazing, beautiful child I've ever known. I'm so lucky and so blessed to have such an incredible little girl living in my house. She's a total ray of sunshine, every single day. I've not seen a bad mood in that child yet - even when she's sick or teething she still manages to push a smile and a giggle through her tears. She's pure joy, pure happiness, pure self-confidence. I thank God every day that He chose us to be her parents. So on that note.. I start to dream... I can't help wondering if a second one would be just as beautiful and fulfilling, not to mention the fact that we'd be giving our wonderful daughter a sibling....
....and then I snap back to reality.
I am also very aware now, as a parent of a young child, how much work it is to be a parent. And how tired I get dashing to work, dashing to daycare, dashing to get supper on the table, dashing to get Abby to her bath and bed, and then starting the cleanup and laundry until well into the night. Its exhausting. Not to mention the constant worries I have about her safety as she toddles and careens around the house, tripping, falling, crashing, jumping, running.... I wouldnt be as able to watch two kids as closely, I certainly would not have as much time to myself as I do now (with one child and a full time career "me time" is definitely at a premium).
However, this doesnt even compare to the work of her newborn days - when day blurred into night, when she cried and ate round the clock, when I would get habitualized to wake so many times that hallucinated her cries when I was in the shower, and my sleep patterns were so disturbed that I stopped being able to sleep at ALL. Do I really want to go through that again?
Caring for a newborn is hard enough.. but for me, it was harder than most. I suffered a brutal, difficult, gruelling 36 hour, complicated delivery. I severely strained my right rotator cuff, created bleeding "butt fissures" (use your imagination) that lasted for months, and I even cracked a tooth that needed repair shortly afterwards. I hemmorrhaged quite badly afterwards, and our baby was exhausted and had to spend the first night outside the womb in the NICU. I needed lots of help just for myself. I was so overwhelmed, sore and sick by the time I went home with my baby. In addition to everything else I had, I had a nasty urinary tract infection, a bad case of anemia and a burgeoning gallstone problem that had not yet reared its ugly head.
After 8 weeks of this, the pressure became all to great and I had a nervous breakdown and wound up in intensive treatment for postpartum depression. It was all I could do to convince myself I could get through the day alone with a baby, and here I go wanting another one?
I wish I could discuss this more with my husband, but he's admitted he's still so nervous with our daughter that he's not even sure how he's going to make it through the end of today with her, let alone PONDER another one. And I have to admit, that I feel that way too a good part of the time.
However, some days I look at how far I've come as a mother, a grieving daughter, and also as a patient. The capacity for the human mind and body to heal is truly amazing. On these days, I wonder, if the anxiety we're feeling now will come back to bite us in the butt with the deep sting of regret should we choose to cave into our anxieties and not have another baby.
I'm already seeing the paybacks of our early parenting months and years in the absolute JOY that my daughter has within her. Each smile, each giggle, each hug just puts me on a high that I'm sure NO drug could ever match. The warmth of us sitting around the table, having dinner, or heading outside as a family, to the park to play is so incredible.
With everything that happened during the birth and afterwards, I think its natural for us to be scared. But I have to believe that the second time around would be different. I hope I've learned some valuable lessons on my limits and what can happen if I continue to push myself way beyond them, and when and HOW to ask for help that I might need in the future. Maybe we'll have less down time, thats a given for the first year of a baby's life anyhow. Should we try for another one, we'll definitely have to be more creative. If we expand our network of babysitters and caregivers, better schedule our "me" and "us" time, and pray that things will work out for the best, how can we go wrong?
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Fighting for a week
My husband and I have been FIGHTING almost constantly for seven days. And man am I tired.
My H and I have been through a lot, raised in environments where we've never felt free to be ourselves, to be masters of our own destiny. We've always had to cater to the controlling whims of adults (my father and his mother) who couldn't let us be US. And we're battling it out between ourselves now. Unfortunately, we're too old for this crap now. We have our own child to focus on, someone who needs us to be mature and responsible and able to be there for her. Our fighting just seems stupid and juvenile, some of the things we fight over I can't even believe that we are doing so.
I'm not sure where reality ends and begins and the power struggle begins. I'm so tired and I have other things I would like to focus my energy on, but I can't seem to get to them. I'm either recovering from yet another illness or infection (this time the female "triple crown - digestive, yeast and bladder - all at the same time) and I'm not up to it, or I'm so stressed that I'm not sleeping (and therefore too tired to do anything to improve myself) or just plain old overwhelmed with this fighting, and the demands of work and home.
I am not always the easiest person to get along with, that I know. I have high standards for people. I demand and expect people to continue to grow, to challenge themselves, and only to rest when they're really in need of a rest, and not to sit back on their laurels and coast, but to continually work to improve themselves and the lives of others around them.
Some people have thanked me for it, such as my mother who I really pushed to finish those last few courses so she could graduate from her B.A. in 2001. Others have really been angry with me for it, like those ex-boyfriends who thought I was an unloving, dissatisfied woman. I think my husband is not sure which camp I belong in. Lately I'm sure he's seeing me in the latter. But I'm not sure if its because I really am that way, or if he's too afraid to take the steps he wants to take in order to follow along the path of self improvement, and I'm catching the flak for that anxiety. I'd like to believe that scenario, rather than the one that puts me in the role of a controlling monster.
Am I an energetic optimist, someone who thinks that life can be better if we all put in a little more effort, and am always ready and eager to feel that sense of accomplishment? Or am I really someone who's never satisfied, always demanding, never relenting?
My H and I have been through a lot, raised in environments where we've never felt free to be ourselves, to be masters of our own destiny. We've always had to cater to the controlling whims of adults (my father and his mother) who couldn't let us be US. And we're battling it out between ourselves now. Unfortunately, we're too old for this crap now. We have our own child to focus on, someone who needs us to be mature and responsible and able to be there for her. Our fighting just seems stupid and juvenile, some of the things we fight over I can't even believe that we are doing so.
I'm not sure where reality ends and begins and the power struggle begins. I'm so tired and I have other things I would like to focus my energy on, but I can't seem to get to them. I'm either recovering from yet another illness or infection (this time the female "triple crown - digestive, yeast and bladder - all at the same time) and I'm not up to it, or I'm so stressed that I'm not sleeping (and therefore too tired to do anything to improve myself) or just plain old overwhelmed with this fighting, and the demands of work and home.
I am not always the easiest person to get along with, that I know. I have high standards for people. I demand and expect people to continue to grow, to challenge themselves, and only to rest when they're really in need of a rest, and not to sit back on their laurels and coast, but to continually work to improve themselves and the lives of others around them.
Some people have thanked me for it, such as my mother who I really pushed to finish those last few courses so she could graduate from her B.A. in 2001. Others have really been angry with me for it, like those ex-boyfriends who thought I was an unloving, dissatisfied woman. I think my husband is not sure which camp I belong in. Lately I'm sure he's seeing me in the latter. But I'm not sure if its because I really am that way, or if he's too afraid to take the steps he wants to take in order to follow along the path of self improvement, and I'm catching the flak for that anxiety. I'd like to believe that scenario, rather than the one that puts me in the role of a controlling monster.
Am I an energetic optimist, someone who thinks that life can be better if we all put in a little more effort, and am always ready and eager to feel that sense of accomplishment? Or am I really someone who's never satisfied, always demanding, never relenting?
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