Safe to say, I have one of the funniest kids on the planet. The other day, we were having breakfast, listening to Abby's running commentary on everything.
She was sitting at the table and in the middle of eating, she said "Crunchy"! Thinking she was referring to her food, I asked her "What's crunchy, your cereal"?
Abby replies: "No. Crunchy my friend!"
We busted a gut laughing.
So did she.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Second set of tests
Came back also negative. Despite two sets of tests, I'm finding it hard to believe these results because apparently the majority of this stuff IS contaminated (although not all of it is) and it is possible to have false negatives.
What will it take for me to relax about this? I just really want to sell this house and start fresh somewhere else.
What will it take for me to relax about this? I just really want to sell this house and start fresh somewhere else.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Asbestos update
Ok. Next steps: We're going to hire a professional asbestos abatement company to remove the open bag in the fuse box and clean up the area around the bag. Cost: $500. We'll have that analyzed to see what was in it. Cost for the analysis: $900.
We're also going to get some bulk samples done from the attic in the back of the house. Cost: $900.
Total costs so far: $3200. Money we don't have, but money we have to spend.
We'll decide what to do after we get the results.
Keep your fingers crossed for good results.
We're also going to get some bulk samples done from the attic in the back of the house. Cost: $900.
Total costs so far: $3200. Money we don't have, but money we have to spend.
We'll decide what to do after we get the results.
Keep your fingers crossed for good results.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Living in Asbestos hell
Ok..
Last week I finally got around to testing some old, cracked floor tiles from our basement. Our house is circa 1966 so I was a bit concerned about potential asbestos in these tiles. Apparently some linoleum and other substances from that era contain asbestos. In reading up on this, I came across an article on asbestos in vermiculite based attic insulation. And then I recalled seeing some come floating down around my husband when he poked his head up into the attic one day last winter when we were having a leak in our ceiling. I looked up more information on this stuff, and lo and behold, confirmed - we have this stuff in our attic. Apparently there is a layer of the vermiculite underneath a second layer of blown-in rockwool or cellulose fibre insulation. Here's the dirt on the substance: (from the Health Canada website)
Vermiculite is a mica-like mineral mined around the world and used in a variety of commercial and consumer products because it is fire-resistant and has good insulation qualities. Of concern is vermiculite ore produced by the Libby Mine in Montana from the 1920's to 1990. It was sold as Zonolite® Attic Insulation and possibly other brands in Canada during that time. Vermiculite from the Libby Mine may contain amphibole asbestos. The Libby Mine supplied the majority of the world market in vermiculite-based insulation. Products made from vermiculite ore produced by the Libby Mine were not widely used after the mid-1980's and have not been on the market in Canada since 1990. Not all vermiculite produced before 1990 contains amphibole asbestos fibres. However, to be safe and in the absence of evidence to the contrary, it is reasonable to assume that if your building has older vermiculite-based insulation, it may contain some amphibole asbestos.
Although the overall percentages of amphibole asbestos in bulk vermiculite are very low, the airborne percentages can increase if the material is disturbed. Asbestos poses health risks only when fibres are present in the air that people breathe. If asbestos fibres are enclosed or tightly bound in a product, for example in asbestos siding or asbestos floor tiles, there are no significant health risks. How exposure to asbestos can affect you depends on:
The concentration of asbestos fibres in the air;
How long the exposure lasted;
How often you were exposed;
The size of the asbestos fibres inhaled; and
The amount of time since the initial exposure.
When inhaled in significant quantities, asbestos fibres can cause asbestosis (a scarring of the lungs which makes breathing difficult), mesothelioma (a rare cancer of the lining of the chest or abdominal cavity) and lung cancer. The link between exposure to asbestos and other types of cancers is less clear.
The best way to minimize your risk of amphibole asbestos exposure is to avoid disturbing vermiculite-based insulation in any way. If vermiculite-based insulation is contained and not exposed to the home or interior environment, it poses very little risk.
OK - although scary, if its enclosed in our attic, it doesn't sound too bad, right? EXCEPT for two things:
a) we recently found an open bag of the stuff in an open wall cavity containing the fuse box. If you open the door to the fuse box you can see the ripped open bag of the stuff dripping down in front of your face.
AND
b) we had significant disturbance of attic insulation last spring when we had a second light and a ceiling exhaust fan installed in our ensuite bathroom.
SO
We proceeded to get some samples taken from the front part of our attic. The samples were tested for asbestos, and fortunately, they were negative. According to all experts, based on the shape, size and colour of the vermiculite, and the fact that there was no asbestos detected, we should not worry.
However, I continue to worry. My logic is currently going like this:
1. How do we know that the composition of the vermiculite is consistent across the entire attic installation? How do we know that the composotion of the bagged vermiculite is the same as the stuff tested?
2. I have read an article that there sometimes no asbestos is detected in the vermiculite, but there can be very high levels of the fibres in the air surrounding the vermiculite if there is a disturbance.
The solution?
Not sure. I'm stuck in worry land again. I'm barely sleeping. I'd LOVE to have this stuff completely sucked out of the house, have air and dust samples taken for months afterward, and then maybe I'd be satisfied that my house was safe. But that would probably cost $30,000. That kind of money I dont have.
What to do.
Last week I finally got around to testing some old, cracked floor tiles from our basement. Our house is circa 1966 so I was a bit concerned about potential asbestos in these tiles. Apparently some linoleum and other substances from that era contain asbestos. In reading up on this, I came across an article on asbestos in vermiculite based attic insulation. And then I recalled seeing some come floating down around my husband when he poked his head up into the attic one day last winter when we were having a leak in our ceiling. I looked up more information on this stuff, and lo and behold, confirmed - we have this stuff in our attic. Apparently there is a layer of the vermiculite underneath a second layer of blown-in rockwool or cellulose fibre insulation. Here's the dirt on the substance: (from the Health Canada website)
Vermiculite is a mica-like mineral mined around the world and used in a variety of commercial and consumer products because it is fire-resistant and has good insulation qualities. Of concern is vermiculite ore produced by the Libby Mine in Montana from the 1920's to 1990. It was sold as Zonolite® Attic Insulation and possibly other brands in Canada during that time. Vermiculite from the Libby Mine may contain amphibole asbestos. The Libby Mine supplied the majority of the world market in vermiculite-based insulation. Products made from vermiculite ore produced by the Libby Mine were not widely used after the mid-1980's and have not been on the market in Canada since 1990. Not all vermiculite produced before 1990 contains amphibole asbestos fibres. However, to be safe and in the absence of evidence to the contrary, it is reasonable to assume that if your building has older vermiculite-based insulation, it may contain some amphibole asbestos.
Although the overall percentages of amphibole asbestos in bulk vermiculite are very low, the airborne percentages can increase if the material is disturbed. Asbestos poses health risks only when fibres are present in the air that people breathe. If asbestos fibres are enclosed or tightly bound in a product, for example in asbestos siding or asbestos floor tiles, there are no significant health risks. How exposure to asbestos can affect you depends on:
The concentration of asbestos fibres in the air;
How long the exposure lasted;
How often you were exposed;
The size of the asbestos fibres inhaled; and
The amount of time since the initial exposure.
When inhaled in significant quantities, asbestos fibres can cause asbestosis (a scarring of the lungs which makes breathing difficult), mesothelioma (a rare cancer of the lining of the chest or abdominal cavity) and lung cancer. The link between exposure to asbestos and other types of cancers is less clear.
The best way to minimize your risk of amphibole asbestos exposure is to avoid disturbing vermiculite-based insulation in any way. If vermiculite-based insulation is contained and not exposed to the home or interior environment, it poses very little risk.
OK - although scary, if its enclosed in our attic, it doesn't sound too bad, right? EXCEPT for two things:
a) we recently found an open bag of the stuff in an open wall cavity containing the fuse box. If you open the door to the fuse box you can see the ripped open bag of the stuff dripping down in front of your face.
AND
b) we had significant disturbance of attic insulation last spring when we had a second light and a ceiling exhaust fan installed in our ensuite bathroom.
SO
We proceeded to get some samples taken from the front part of our attic. The samples were tested for asbestos, and fortunately, they were negative. According to all experts, based on the shape, size and colour of the vermiculite, and the fact that there was no asbestos detected, we should not worry.
However, I continue to worry. My logic is currently going like this:
1. How do we know that the composition of the vermiculite is consistent across the entire attic installation? How do we know that the composotion of the bagged vermiculite is the same as the stuff tested?
2. I have read an article that there sometimes no asbestos is detected in the vermiculite, but there can be very high levels of the fibres in the air surrounding the vermiculite if there is a disturbance.
The solution?
Not sure. I'm stuck in worry land again. I'm barely sleeping. I'd LOVE to have this stuff completely sucked out of the house, have air and dust samples taken for months afterward, and then maybe I'd be satisfied that my house was safe. But that would probably cost $30,000. That kind of money I dont have.
What to do.
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Funniest thing I've seen Abby do...
Pretty much hands down, the funniest thing I saw her EVER do happened this weekend. We were eating dinner on Sunday night, Clancy, Abby, Nene and myself.. Abby was being very silly, singing silly songs, making funny faces, being her usual silly self. At one point, she struck a disco-hand pose (one hand pointing up and one hand pointing almost down, a la John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever) and she proceeds to..
***FART LOUDLY***
And then she smiled, and said "TOOT"!!!!!!
Nene turned away so as not to "encourage" further behavoiur of this type. I busted a gut and went into the kitchen to a) remove myself from Abby's line of vision as I laughed my ass off and b) to hold myself so as not to pee my pants. Clancy just sat there with mouth agape..
Oh my that was the funniest thing. Chris, you missed a good one. Doots would have loved this one for sure.
BUT REMEMBER we still are trying to discourage farting at the table!!!!!!!
***FART LOUDLY***
And then she smiled, and said "TOOT"!!!!!!
Nene turned away so as not to "encourage" further behavoiur of this type. I busted a gut and went into the kitchen to a) remove myself from Abby's line of vision as I laughed my ass off and b) to hold myself so as not to pee my pants. Clancy just sat there with mouth agape..
Oh my that was the funniest thing. Chris, you missed a good one. Doots would have loved this one for sure.
BUT REMEMBER we still are trying to discourage farting at the table!!!!!!!
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Petition against the female reproductive system - too funny!
A Letter To the Female Reproductive System (herein referred to as “That Unpredictable, Untrustworthy, and Generally Unattractive Mess of Leaky Pipes”):
Friends, Citizens, Countrywomen, it is time to make a stand. For millennia, we have allowed you to control our every thought, action, and pore with your necessary hormones and discriminatory behavior (white pants deserve the same respect as black or brown!).
But now, as we try to use you for your ultimate purpose, we seem to be heading down a dangerous and divisive path.At such a time of hope and fear, you give us nothing concrete. As we meticulously log every twinge and pang, you secretly gloat at our uncertainty, and set out to confuse us even more with vague cramps, loose stools, and bloated bellies that resemble someone in their second trimester, though we just ovulated thirteen days ago.
We hereby protest against the 2 week wait between ovulation and finding out if we're pregnant!
We protest at the contortions, poking, and peeing that you put us through twice a month! We are outraged and ashamed that our bodies would keep secrets and cause us to rely on strips, saliva, and your tricky little sidekick, Cervical Mucus. We call for you to abide by both the spirit and the good intentions we have displayed since the day you first made yourself known to us as The Harbinger of the Witch. We have cared for you, cleaned up after you, and defended you against the devils on our shoulders whispering not to trust a thing you say, do, or secrete.
Our demands are simple:
1) Notification at least three days prior, but no less than one day prior to ovulation, allowing us to stock the necessary decongestants, lubrications, and Viagra if necessary.
2) Clear and unmistakable signs of fertilization. Note: as we are in the 21st century, emails and/or instant or text messages are preferred.
3) A separate notification of implantation. Our bellybuttons serve no use as is, perhaps you can work something out with them for this one.
We do not think this is too much to ask. We receive such cooperation from other organ systems. (Please consult with Urinary Tract with any questions you may have).
Sincerely, The Undersigned
******
I'd sign onto this one!!!!!!!
Friends, Citizens, Countrywomen, it is time to make a stand. For millennia, we have allowed you to control our every thought, action, and pore with your necessary hormones and discriminatory behavior (white pants deserve the same respect as black or brown!).
But now, as we try to use you for your ultimate purpose, we seem to be heading down a dangerous and divisive path.At such a time of hope and fear, you give us nothing concrete. As we meticulously log every twinge and pang, you secretly gloat at our uncertainty, and set out to confuse us even more with vague cramps, loose stools, and bloated bellies that resemble someone in their second trimester, though we just ovulated thirteen days ago.
We hereby protest against the 2 week wait between ovulation and finding out if we're pregnant!
We protest at the contortions, poking, and peeing that you put us through twice a month! We are outraged and ashamed that our bodies would keep secrets and cause us to rely on strips, saliva, and your tricky little sidekick, Cervical Mucus. We call for you to abide by both the spirit and the good intentions we have displayed since the day you first made yourself known to us as The Harbinger of the Witch. We have cared for you, cleaned up after you, and defended you against the devils on our shoulders whispering not to trust a thing you say, do, or secrete.
Our demands are simple:
1) Notification at least three days prior, but no less than one day prior to ovulation, allowing us to stock the necessary decongestants, lubrications, and Viagra if necessary.
2) Clear and unmistakable signs of fertilization. Note: as we are in the 21st century, emails and/or instant or text messages are preferred.
3) A separate notification of implantation. Our bellybuttons serve no use as is, perhaps you can work something out with them for this one.
We do not think this is too much to ask. We receive such cooperation from other organ systems. (Please consult with Urinary Tract with any questions you may have).
Sincerely, The Undersigned
******
I'd sign onto this one!!!!!!!
Monday, October 29, 2007
Almost two years...
As the weather gets colder and the days turn greyer.. I can't stop thinking of my Dad. On November 15 it will be 2 years since he died. In fact, tomorrow is the anniversary of the last time I ever saw him alive.
Its been so hard dealing with this, carrying this weight with me all the time. For those people who have never lost someone its definitely a life changing event, similar in magnitude to having a new baby. Nothing will ever be the same. The world has changed, you have to redefine yourself in a new way.
Death is also something that you dont just "get over". It's always there. You never truly move on, but instead, you learn to live with it. The load gets less uncomfortable but on occasion it slips and it pokes you somewhere tender and then you have to sit, readjust, cry a bit, and put it back on your back. And walk on.
My dad was such a huge part of my life. Of all of our lives. He was a dominant, self-centred person most of the time. It defintely affected how we saw ourselves, how we acted, what we did, what we thought, and what we did.
I feel so lost without him around. This is not to say that I always agreed with his positions or views on things, nor that I really relied on him for a lot of things. In fact, I had to rely on others for the ability to deal with him a lot of the time. He was not an easy person to have in one's life.
But that's not to say I didnt love him. When things were good, things were REALLY good. I was star-struck with him sometimes.
And that relationship is the one I"m missing right now.
********
This is the way you left me
I'm not pretending
no hope no love no glory
no happy ending.
This is the way that we lived
like it was forever
I live the rest of my life
not together
Wake up in the morning
stumble on my life
can't get love
without big sacrifice
Now that it's happened
do you wish me well?
Free from your pain is a little bit of heaven
and a little bit of hell
This is the hardest Story
that I have ever told
no hope or love or glory
our happy ending is gone forevermore
This is the way you left me, I'm not pretending
no hope no love no glory, no happy ending
this is the way that we lived, like it was forever
I'll live the rest of my life, but not together
2 o clock in the morning, something's on my mind
Can't get no rest, keep walking around
if I pretend that nothing ever went wrong
Can I get to sleep if I pretend that we just carried on?
This is the hardest Story I have ever told
no hope no love no glory no happy ending
This was the way that we lived,
like it was forever
I'll live the rest of my life
but not together...
Its been so hard dealing with this, carrying this weight with me all the time. For those people who have never lost someone its definitely a life changing event, similar in magnitude to having a new baby. Nothing will ever be the same. The world has changed, you have to redefine yourself in a new way.
Death is also something that you dont just "get over". It's always there. You never truly move on, but instead, you learn to live with it. The load gets less uncomfortable but on occasion it slips and it pokes you somewhere tender and then you have to sit, readjust, cry a bit, and put it back on your back. And walk on.
My dad was such a huge part of my life. Of all of our lives. He was a dominant, self-centred person most of the time. It defintely affected how we saw ourselves, how we acted, what we did, what we thought, and what we did.
I feel so lost without him around. This is not to say that I always agreed with his positions or views on things, nor that I really relied on him for a lot of things. In fact, I had to rely on others for the ability to deal with him a lot of the time. He was not an easy person to have in one's life.
But that's not to say I didnt love him. When things were good, things were REALLY good. I was star-struck with him sometimes.
And that relationship is the one I"m missing right now.
********
This is the way you left me
I'm not pretending
no hope no love no glory
no happy ending.
This is the way that we lived
like it was forever
I live the rest of my life
not together
Wake up in the morning
stumble on my life
can't get love
without big sacrifice
Now that it's happened
do you wish me well?
Free from your pain is a little bit of heaven
and a little bit of hell
This is the hardest Story
that I have ever told
no hope or love or glory
our happy ending is gone forevermore
This is the way you left me, I'm not pretending
no hope no love no glory, no happy ending
this is the way that we lived, like it was forever
I'll live the rest of my life, but not together
2 o clock in the morning, something's on my mind
Can't get no rest, keep walking around
if I pretend that nothing ever went wrong
Can I get to sleep if I pretend that we just carried on?
This is the hardest Story I have ever told
no hope no love no glory no happy ending
This was the way that we lived,
like it was forever
I'll live the rest of my life
but not together...
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Can barely manage one blog, let alone two
In the name of reducing stress... I just can't manage two blogs. My (ha!) loyal readers might just miss something on one or the other blog.
So, here are the posts from : "Cake Makes Me Happy" - for posterity. I'll probably not be posting on there much anymore. Not to worry, I will definitely try to post the HAPPIER things on this blog as well as just my crises, trials and tribulations.
********
Church lifts the spirit
Psalm 27:14: Wait for the LORD;Be strong, and let your heart take courage; Yes, wait for the LORD.
Posted by Patty at 7:44 AM 0 comments
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Even funnier from a 2 year old
Saying grace at our household.. we tend to "free form" it. We say "what do you want to thank God for" and sometimes Abby will reply with some highlights of her life such as "noodles, sunny days, clouds, mommy, daddy, nene, uncle Chris".The other day, it was grace time before dinner and we said yet again "what do you want to thank God for?"Abby replies "umm... the blue stuff on my hands?" (marker stains on her hands)We all burst out laughing.Too funny.
Posted by Patty at 5:54 AM 1 comments
Monday, September 24, 2007
Funny two year olds
My favourite dialogues-with-a-two-year-old in the past few weeks:Clancy: “Abby! Did you know your full name is Abigail H.?”Abby: “No - my name is Abigail B.”Clancy: “Why are you Abigail B?”Abby: “Jacob B” (name of another little boy at daycare)Clancy: “Oh are you married to Jacob B?”Abby: “Yes. I hit him."Patty: BWAAHAAAHAA!!!*****Abby: “I love Church”.Patty: “you love Church? That’s great honey!”Abby: “I love Jesus!”Patty: “That’s great! I love Jesus too! Jesus is a great person!”Abby: “HAAHAAA Jesus is a funny guy! He has a big beard!”*********Abby: “I’m married."Patty: “You’re married?”Abby “yes”Patty: “to who?”Abby: “Jesus”Patty: “Oh if you’re married to Jesus, I guess that means you’re a Nun!”Abby: DADDY! I’m um .. um.. a Nun! Nun! Nun! Nun!”
Posted by Patty at 12:03 PM 0 comments
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Indian Summer makes me happy
It's late September. And its 27 degrees out there.Isn't that something?Summer-like days, and crisp nights with the smell of wood smoke in the air makes me happy.
Posted by Patty at 10:07 AM 2 comments
Friday, September 14, 2007
Hockey makes me happy
I played hockey last night for the first time in 2 years.I can still play!I was worried that I'd have forgotten everything I learned, however, after the skills session was over, I realized that I was as good as I was three years ago - with one tiny exception. Stick handling was a bit off. At first it felt awkward and foreign, but as time went on it felt a bit better. Not quite as good as I used to be, but close. However, as hockey-style stick handling was never my forte, I'm ok with it. I'm sure I'll pick it up again. Its amazing how the body remembers how to do things after years of non-use.It was amazing to feel so free, to remember a part of my life that I'd long forgotten. And despite all my intense baby-yearnings lately, last night I was pretty glad that I wasn't pregnant. I felt free, and I felt energized, and I was flying around the ice.Now I feel a LOT more "free" to get pregnant again. I won't have that "oh its been so long since I've played, I bet I forget how to play" intimidation on me. This will definitely unlock that tiny bit of resistance and resentment about getting pregnant again that's been there in the back of my brain these last 2 months of attempted conception. I know that even if I'm off for another 2 years with a pregnancy and a young infant, that hockey will still be there for me when I'm ready to come back.I feel so free with that now.Getting ready for the game, I felt a bit shaky, as it was the first time out there since so many things happened in my life - losing my father, my abdominal surgery, a new job (twice) and recovery from postpartum depression. The last time I tried to play was 3 months after my daughter was born, and I was so exhausted and out of shape I barely lasted 30 minutes. Getting dressed last night I had the shakes so bad, I had a lump in my throat, I was so nervous. What would happen if everything in the past was just so difficult and I'd never be able to play again? What if my body had changed so much that hockey was just not going to be possible anymore?However, 10 minutes on the ice, I knew I was going to be fine. I felt like I was in much better shape than I was 2 years ago. It was one more victory I've reclaimed back since all of my pain and strife. One more giant step towards getting back to who I used to be. And that makes me insanely happy.A pretty good feeling.I love team sports - I get so enthralled into them I forget about everything else. Minutes and hours pass and I dont even realize it. I dont hear the people in the stands, I forget about work, about my troubles, all the things that have been on my mind, my babylust, my worries, and I just follow the play, skate, challenge, challenge..protect my net..get into position..woops they're on a breakaway..get going..get going.....*gasping for breath*....speed wobble.....laughing..laughing.....high on adrenaline....a huge feeling of accomplishment for us old gals as we try to hoof our butts around the arena.....socializing in the dressing room after the game with other fellow hockey-princess-warriors...I forgot how fun that was.
Posted by Patty at 5:30 AM 4 comments
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Why Cake?
Cake. Yes cake. I always get happy about cake. I dont know why. Maybe its the warm smell as it bakes in the oven.. the fun of spreading creamy icing or dusting of icing sugar, cocoa, or other topping... mmmmmm......Its one of the first happy smells to enter into my brain as a young child.Maybe its the fact that cake is associated with the happier things in life - a wedding, a baby, a birthday, a new job.Maybe its the fact that my daughter is fascinated with "Happy to you cakes" and makes numerous cake replicas out of sand on a daily basis. Complete with a leaf or a stick as a "candle".Maybe its the fact that I just love cake. Its sticky, sweet goodness.Its almost my 3rd wedding anniversary.. I'm thinking of ordering a mini-replica of our wedding cake to celebrate. It was an awesome cake - marble chocolate/vanilla with bavarian cream filling, and butter cream icing, from the Orleans Bakery in east end Ottawa.It was tasty.Just thinking of that cake makes me happy.
Posted by Patty at 8:23 AM 1 comments
First cakepost!
This is my second blog on here.My first blog - in search of sleep - really focussed a lot on the difficulties I've had to go through in the past few years. Postpartum depression. The death of my father. Surgery. Marital problems.I know that one's moods are really affected by things that you think about.I need happier things in my life.This blog is dedicated to things that make me happy.Enjoy!
Posted by Patty at 8:17 AM 1 comments
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Waiting on the Lord
Last night I needed some peace so I went to church at 6:30 pm. This was the theme. How appropriate.
Since I really do think that babies are a gift from God, I think this is particularly appropriate.
**************
One of the important exhortations of Christian faith is the call to “wait on the Lord.” Even though God promises special blessing for waiting, waiting is one of the most difficult exhortations of Scripture. Why is it so hard? Because, as a part of fallen humanity, we are so prone to take matters into our own hands, to follow our own schemes. Yet, over and over again we are told in Scripture “Wait on the Lord.”
We don’t like to wait and when we think of waiting we are apt to respond with the pun, “Wait? That’s what made the bridge collapse!” Of course, that’s weight, not wait. But then these two words, weight and wait are not always unrelated because one of our needs in waiting on the Lord is the need to cast the weighty burdens of life on Him.
The comment about the bridge expresses our normal dislike for waiting, especially in our “I want it now!” society. Ours is a society that has grown accustomed to immediate gratification. Due to modern technology and all our conveniences—telephones, refrigerators, freezers, microwaves, fast foods, airplanes, etc.—we have many things immediately at our fingertips. Just think of the speed of the latest computer technology in comparison with the computers of only a few years ago.
Even in our modern age of conveniences, waiting is still a big part of life. When we think of waiting, what comes to mind? We might conjure up visions of an airport terminal, a doctor’s waiting room, the line at the supermarket, or being stuck in rush hour traffic. The facts are, most of us are waiting for something most of the time:
- Maybe you are in a job situation that’s really tough to endure and you are waiting and hoping that conditions will change for the better.
- Maybe you are without a job and waiting for news on an application.
- Maybe you are ill (or have a loved one who is) and waiting for health to improve.
- Maybe you are on a diet and waiting for your weight to drop a few pounds.
- A single person may be waiting for Mr. or Miss Right.
- You want a(nother) child but God has other plans for you right now
The simple fact is, in spite of our modern age and our dislike for waiting, life is full of waiting. And one of the most challenging exhortations of Scripture is “Wait.” But waiting, despite our impatience and our dislike for it, is a vital element in life. Indeed, waiting has a number of benefits. Because the Lord tells us to wait, and since it has some wonderful benefits, we need to know what it means to wait and how that is to be done.
How do we truly learn to wait for and on the Lord and experience the promised blessing of God?
Waiting Necessitates the Passage of Time
In our "now" generation we must understand and accept the fact that waiting on the Lord always involves the passage of time just as it does when we are waiting for the news, a special TV program, for a plane to arrive, for retirement. Waiting on the Lord inevitably means enduring the passage of time, but it means more, much more.
Waiting Means Confident Expectation
Waiting involves an expectation of something special. Waiting means anticipation, expectation, confident hope in something that will take place. Ultimately, waiting on the Lord is like waiting on the sun to rise—waiting expectantly for the Lord’s answers to human needs as the sun brings the warmth of the day.
Waiting Involves an Expectation Based on Knowledge and Trust
Without knowledge and trust, we simply won’t wait—at least not without a great deal of anxiety—and usually not without taking matters into our own hands. The ability to wait on God's blessings comes from being confident and focussed on who God is and what God is doing. It means confidence in God's person, confidence in His wisdom, love, timing, understanding of our situation and of the world. To wait on the Lord means learning to be content and patient as we cling to God in a fallen world and rest in His love and wisdom. Key to this is knowing that someday we will be in a perfect world that is everything this world is not.
2 Corinthians 4: 16-18: Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.
On the one hand, being content and patient means learning to be independent of the things we think we need for our significance, security, or satisfaction in life.
Phillipians: 4: 11-13 Not that I speak from want; for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.
On the other hand, it means learning to cling to the Lord in the midst of a fallen world. It means resting in His goodness and being committed to His purposes and glory no matter how things seem.
Since I really do think that babies are a gift from God, I think this is particularly appropriate.
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One of the important exhortations of Christian faith is the call to “wait on the Lord.” Even though God promises special blessing for waiting, waiting is one of the most difficult exhortations of Scripture. Why is it so hard? Because, as a part of fallen humanity, we are so prone to take matters into our own hands, to follow our own schemes. Yet, over and over again we are told in Scripture “Wait on the Lord.”
We don’t like to wait and when we think of waiting we are apt to respond with the pun, “Wait? That’s what made the bridge collapse!” Of course, that’s weight, not wait. But then these two words, weight and wait are not always unrelated because one of our needs in waiting on the Lord is the need to cast the weighty burdens of life on Him.
The comment about the bridge expresses our normal dislike for waiting, especially in our “I want it now!” society. Ours is a society that has grown accustomed to immediate gratification. Due to modern technology and all our conveniences—telephones, refrigerators, freezers, microwaves, fast foods, airplanes, etc.—we have many things immediately at our fingertips. Just think of the speed of the latest computer technology in comparison with the computers of only a few years ago.
Even in our modern age of conveniences, waiting is still a big part of life. When we think of waiting, what comes to mind? We might conjure up visions of an airport terminal, a doctor’s waiting room, the line at the supermarket, or being stuck in rush hour traffic. The facts are, most of us are waiting for something most of the time:
- Maybe you are in a job situation that’s really tough to endure and you are waiting and hoping that conditions will change for the better.
- Maybe you are without a job and waiting for news on an application.
- Maybe you are ill (or have a loved one who is) and waiting for health to improve.
- Maybe you are on a diet and waiting for your weight to drop a few pounds.
- A single person may be waiting for Mr. or Miss Right.
- You want a(nother) child but God has other plans for you right now
The simple fact is, in spite of our modern age and our dislike for waiting, life is full of waiting. And one of the most challenging exhortations of Scripture is “Wait.” But waiting, despite our impatience and our dislike for it, is a vital element in life. Indeed, waiting has a number of benefits. Because the Lord tells us to wait, and since it has some wonderful benefits, we need to know what it means to wait and how that is to be done.
How do we truly learn to wait for and on the Lord and experience the promised blessing of God?
Waiting Necessitates the Passage of Time
In our "now" generation we must understand and accept the fact that waiting on the Lord always involves the passage of time just as it does when we are waiting for the news, a special TV program, for a plane to arrive, for retirement. Waiting on the Lord inevitably means enduring the passage of time, but it means more, much more.
Waiting Means Confident Expectation
Waiting involves an expectation of something special. Waiting means anticipation, expectation, confident hope in something that will take place. Ultimately, waiting on the Lord is like waiting on the sun to rise—waiting expectantly for the Lord’s answers to human needs as the sun brings the warmth of the day.
Waiting Involves an Expectation Based on Knowledge and Trust
Without knowledge and trust, we simply won’t wait—at least not without a great deal of anxiety—and usually not without taking matters into our own hands. The ability to wait on God's blessings comes from being confident and focussed on who God is and what God is doing. It means confidence in God's person, confidence in His wisdom, love, timing, understanding of our situation and of the world. To wait on the Lord means learning to be content and patient as we cling to God in a fallen world and rest in His love and wisdom. Key to this is knowing that someday we will be in a perfect world that is everything this world is not.
2 Corinthians 4: 16-18: Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.
On the one hand, being content and patient means learning to be independent of the things we think we need for our significance, security, or satisfaction in life.
Phillipians: 4: 11-13 Not that I speak from want; for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.
On the other hand, it means learning to cling to the Lord in the midst of a fallen world. It means resting in His goodness and being committed to His purposes and glory no matter how things seem.
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
Another month, another heartbreak
Cycle #3 come and gone.. and no baby. Caught me by surprise - 3 days early. Was not a fun experience. Was at the home of my in-laws and just as we're leaving for church, AF shows up. I was emotionally raw already, and then arrived at Church - the same place we went to church as kids. I spent a bit of time looking over at the pew (front right, 3 or 4 from the front) where my family used to sit.. strong emotions.
The second or third song they played was "Here I am Lord" - which was one of my dad's faves, I can still hear his voice when that song is played. It was also the entrance hymn to my dad's funeral. Walking into the church behind my dad's coffin, stunned, shocked, not even feelign my own legs, feeling like I was floating.. I know that song was playing, but its only now, 2 years later, when I'm actually having flashbacks and tangible memories of that day.
The arrival of AF, signalling no baby this month, being at that Church, as well as the song just pushed me over the edge. I burst out crying and walked out of the Church. It took a long time to get myself some composure.
I'm still crying off and on even today.
The second or third song they played was "Here I am Lord" - which was one of my dad's faves, I can still hear his voice when that song is played. It was also the entrance hymn to my dad's funeral. Walking into the church behind my dad's coffin, stunned, shocked, not even feelign my own legs, feeling like I was floating.. I know that song was playing, but its only now, 2 years later, when I'm actually having flashbacks and tangible memories of that day.
The arrival of AF, signalling no baby this month, being at that Church, as well as the song just pushed me over the edge. I burst out crying and walked out of the Church. It took a long time to get myself some composure.
I'm still crying off and on even today.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
my relationship with the BIG GUY
Yes.. GOD, the Big Guy, Yahweh, Great Spirit, Jehovah, or whatever you want to call him. My relationship with him is suffering today.
I am struggling so badly during this "trying to conceive baby #2" period in my life, I found myself cursing God out this morning. And badly. I was awful. I called HIM every name in the book. I probably deserve a lightning strike to the head for that.
Whether or not baby #2 comes along is largely in HIS hands, and I'm not happy with that. I wish he'd give up some control to me, or deliver the answer to my prayers (which I THINK is another baby). but you never know. Sometimes God has other plans that are better for you than what you'd arrange for yourself. But little old non-trusting me, I dont trust that my best interests are in God's hands. I dont know why trust is so hard for me, but it is.
Maybe becuase there have been too many "acts of God" that have been painful for me lately. Especially the surprise death of my dad. Only God calls us home, decides when its time to stop being alive and to come home to HIM. Yes, I have tried to look at my dad's sudden death in this way, and try to be happy for my dad, but what about us? God took my dad home, which has been so painful for those of us who are left. If it's a God decision, why the hell is it so hard for us who are left to grieve? Why can't God make it easier for us to accept His will? Why is it so painful sometimes? And on that note, I'm struggling with that. Struggling to accept that God's will is always in our best interest.
Back to the wondering when/if we'll have another baby. I *know* I should take the lessons that I've learned in all my religious and spiritual education and be HAPPY with what I have (job, house, car, one child, husband, friends, etc) and not angry about what I don't. And I should stop comparing myself to others, becuase I can always find a reason to feel inadequate.
But today I just can't.
I'm in another insomnia phase which is probably not helping. I'm trying to track my insomnia phases, and have noticed the following trends:
I can't sleep when the following is going on:
Early in the week - feeling like I have so much on my plate and I'm overwhelmed with the whole week to come.
Mid-cycle - who knows why - hormones?
Full moon - this one stumps me. I rarely sleep well for the 3-4 days approaching the full moon, and then the next day, BAM a good night of sleep for a day or two.
Pre-and-post "auntie flo" - hormones again?
Pre-vacation, holiday and travel - disruption in my "routine" (such as it is for an insomniac!)
Too much on my plate - trying to remember everything I need to get done around the house and also at work. All the little thoughts keep dancing in my head, causing anxiety.
God please just give me some peace on all of this. Please.
I am struggling so badly during this "trying to conceive baby #2" period in my life, I found myself cursing God out this morning. And badly. I was awful. I called HIM every name in the book. I probably deserve a lightning strike to the head for that.
Whether or not baby #2 comes along is largely in HIS hands, and I'm not happy with that. I wish he'd give up some control to me, or deliver the answer to my prayers (which I THINK is another baby). but you never know. Sometimes God has other plans that are better for you than what you'd arrange for yourself. But little old non-trusting me, I dont trust that my best interests are in God's hands. I dont know why trust is so hard for me, but it is.
Maybe becuase there have been too many "acts of God" that have been painful for me lately. Especially the surprise death of my dad. Only God calls us home, decides when its time to stop being alive and to come home to HIM. Yes, I have tried to look at my dad's sudden death in this way, and try to be happy for my dad, but what about us? God took my dad home, which has been so painful for those of us who are left. If it's a God decision, why the hell is it so hard for us who are left to grieve? Why can't God make it easier for us to accept His will? Why is it so painful sometimes? And on that note, I'm struggling with that. Struggling to accept that God's will is always in our best interest.
Back to the wondering when/if we'll have another baby. I *know* I should take the lessons that I've learned in all my religious and spiritual education and be HAPPY with what I have (job, house, car, one child, husband, friends, etc) and not angry about what I don't. And I should stop comparing myself to others, becuase I can always find a reason to feel inadequate.
But today I just can't.
I'm in another insomnia phase which is probably not helping. I'm trying to track my insomnia phases, and have noticed the following trends:
I can't sleep when the following is going on:
Early in the week - feeling like I have so much on my plate and I'm overwhelmed with the whole week to come.
Mid-cycle - who knows why - hormones?
Full moon - this one stumps me. I rarely sleep well for the 3-4 days approaching the full moon, and then the next day, BAM a good night of sleep for a day or two.
Pre-and-post "auntie flo" - hormones again?
Pre-vacation, holiday and travel - disruption in my "routine" (such as it is for an insomniac!)
Too much on my plate - trying to remember everything I need to get done around the house and also at work. All the little thoughts keep dancing in my head, causing anxiety.
God please just give me some peace on all of this. Please.
Friday, September 28, 2007
An older mom's lament
My H and I have been ttc baby #2 for a few months. Last week I even went to talk to my doctor and then a therapist about my fears and anxieties about being an "older mom". I'll be 38 in January and there is a lot of information out there on the fact that fertility does decline with age. After reading all of this stuff (which I knew already from reading it before TTC baby #1 back in 2004) I have been in an extreme stress-out situation.
My doctor was a real pro in his discussions and indicated to me that there is a *slight* reduction in fertility as we age, but he didnt make a big deal about it. He assured me there's still a really good chance, but it could take a little longer (maybe even a year longer) than I'd hoped. He did indicate that overall, couples only have a 60% chance of conceiving after 1 year of trying.. that blew me away.
Shocking words for someone like me who concieved her first without even trying - first month, at age 34 (apparently since I delivered at age 35 technically I was a 35 year old first time mother!). The chances of that happening are less than 10%!
Anyhow, despite the stats, I figured with my previous experience I must be some kind of fertility goddess or something, and this time around it would be just as easy, but no...
I'm noticing that the scarier stats for mothers 35+ are usually on the websites of assisted reproduction companies. Part of me is wondering if that is part of their advertising. I know one thing that's for sure, fertility or infertility, we DON'T have the money for either extremely invasive techniques, or adoption, that's for sure. Unless some benevolent financial donor comes our way, whatever nature hands us or doesn't, that's going to have to be where it ends for us as far as family size.
The pain of being at the end of my reproductive life and just beginning in my relationship and my ability to have kids is getting unbearable. I feel so stuck. So trapped. So hopeless. Why was I able to have a baby when I was 13 or 14 for chrissake? I was not even in HIGH SCHOOL yet! And in my prime in my early 20's? I wasn't even done university. I didnt have a real, steady, guaranteed paycheck until I turned 30 1/2.. how is it at that point I was already facing fertility decline? But that's the way human reproduction is at this point. Until science can stop a girl from becoming fertile until she turns 25, and adds another decade onto our reproductive life in our 40's and early 50's this is what we're stuck with.
This world doesn't make sense to me.
I knew about these stats from a fairly early age (late 20's). I never wanted to be in this situation, and I tried REALLY hard to not be here. I tried to stick through relationships in my 2o's that were not the best for me, in fear that I'd not find anyone better before it was too late. Despite it all, those relationships blew up in my face.
I swear the day my boyfriend broke up with me in January 2000 I saw the faces of my yet unborn children (one girl and one boy) disappear before my face, and it was the saddest sight I have ever seen. Iit was not until I was 34 when I got married and 35 when I had my first child. The girl is here.. where's the boy?
Many people tell me to just "be happy" with what I have. I am very happy with what I have. I love my husband and little girl so much. I can't believe what an utterly amazing child I have. But this ongoing babylust to complete my family does NOT mean I dont appreciate what I do have. Its just something beyond logic, beyond comprehension that is sitting in my heart, tugging at my soul, reaching out into the great beyond.
It was always in my mind's eye to be a mom of 2 kids. Probably because I grew up with one sibling, and its familiar and comfortable to me. The pain of looking across my dining room table and seeing one empty chair is really difficult for me.
And now with a few cycles of non-success, those old fears are again creeping up on me. I feel I'm rapidly and desperately running out of time.
I hope I can stay sane as I let mother nature and God work this all out. There's not much else that I can do to help this out, any more than I'm already doing that is.
I hope that God listens to my prayers. I've been saying a lot of them lately.
My doctor was a real pro in his discussions and indicated to me that there is a *slight* reduction in fertility as we age, but he didnt make a big deal about it. He assured me there's still a really good chance, but it could take a little longer (maybe even a year longer) than I'd hoped. He did indicate that overall, couples only have a 60% chance of conceiving after 1 year of trying.. that blew me away.
Shocking words for someone like me who concieved her first without even trying - first month, at age 34 (apparently since I delivered at age 35 technically I was a 35 year old first time mother!). The chances of that happening are less than 10%!
Anyhow, despite the stats, I figured with my previous experience I must be some kind of fertility goddess or something, and this time around it would be just as easy, but no...
I'm noticing that the scarier stats for mothers 35+ are usually on the websites of assisted reproduction companies. Part of me is wondering if that is part of their advertising. I know one thing that's for sure, fertility or infertility, we DON'T have the money for either extremely invasive techniques, or adoption, that's for sure. Unless some benevolent financial donor comes our way, whatever nature hands us or doesn't, that's going to have to be where it ends for us as far as family size.
The pain of being at the end of my reproductive life and just beginning in my relationship and my ability to have kids is getting unbearable. I feel so stuck. So trapped. So hopeless. Why was I able to have a baby when I was 13 or 14 for chrissake? I was not even in HIGH SCHOOL yet! And in my prime in my early 20's? I wasn't even done university. I didnt have a real, steady, guaranteed paycheck until I turned 30 1/2.. how is it at that point I was already facing fertility decline? But that's the way human reproduction is at this point. Until science can stop a girl from becoming fertile until she turns 25, and adds another decade onto our reproductive life in our 40's and early 50's this is what we're stuck with.
This world doesn't make sense to me.
I knew about these stats from a fairly early age (late 20's). I never wanted to be in this situation, and I tried REALLY hard to not be here. I tried to stick through relationships in my 2o's that were not the best for me, in fear that I'd not find anyone better before it was too late. Despite it all, those relationships blew up in my face.
I swear the day my boyfriend broke up with me in January 2000 I saw the faces of my yet unborn children (one girl and one boy) disappear before my face, and it was the saddest sight I have ever seen. Iit was not until I was 34 when I got married and 35 when I had my first child. The girl is here.. where's the boy?
Many people tell me to just "be happy" with what I have. I am very happy with what I have. I love my husband and little girl so much. I can't believe what an utterly amazing child I have. But this ongoing babylust to complete my family does NOT mean I dont appreciate what I do have. Its just something beyond logic, beyond comprehension that is sitting in my heart, tugging at my soul, reaching out into the great beyond.
It was always in my mind's eye to be a mom of 2 kids. Probably because I grew up with one sibling, and its familiar and comfortable to me. The pain of looking across my dining room table and seeing one empty chair is really difficult for me.
And now with a few cycles of non-success, those old fears are again creeping up on me. I feel I'm rapidly and desperately running out of time.
I hope I can stay sane as I let mother nature and God work this all out. There's not much else that I can do to help this out, any more than I'm already doing that is.
I hope that God listens to my prayers. I've been saying a lot of them lately.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
I miss my dad
A hard day today. I miss my dad insanely.
Despite wishing I was, I am not close to my Dad's family. Nobody really seems to get along in that family. It makes me ache inside that the only ties that I have to my dad are so inacessible.
A few days ago I looked at a photo of my cousin Dan who I've probably not seen in 20 years.
His hair freaked me out. Exactly like my Dad's.
For some reason that photo has caused a lot of emotion in me. When I remember the little things that made my dad human - what he looked like, his hair, his hands, his feet, the way he cleared his throat, the way he walked, etc, THAT's when I have a hard time. I"m starting to forget all the little things and quirks he had that made him human.
I miss him.
Today I miss him Insanely.
Despite wishing I was, I am not close to my Dad's family. Nobody really seems to get along in that family. It makes me ache inside that the only ties that I have to my dad are so inacessible.
A few days ago I looked at a photo of my cousin Dan who I've probably not seen in 20 years.
His hair freaked me out. Exactly like my Dad's.
For some reason that photo has caused a lot of emotion in me. When I remember the little things that made my dad human - what he looked like, his hair, his hands, his feet, the way he cleared his throat, the way he walked, etc, THAT's when I have a hard time. I"m starting to forget all the little things and quirks he had that made him human.
I miss him.
Today I miss him Insanely.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Don't forget to check out happy cake!
I've got a new 'twin' blog to this one. see:
www.cakemakesmehappy.blogspot.com
Dedicated to things that make me happy. I need to change my outlook on life. Posts to this site may be a bit fewer and far between.
But drop in to my new place... say hello and have some cake!
www.cakemakesmehappy.blogspot.com
Dedicated to things that make me happy. I need to change my outlook on life. Posts to this site may be a bit fewer and far between.
But drop in to my new place... say hello and have some cake!
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Singing the baby blues again
Another month goes by... and I'm still not pregnant.
3am this morning, I got up to pee... and it was obvious, I was definitely not pregnant. I spent the next 2 hours crying. I'm still weepy now 3 hours later.
I know that 2 months is not that long to be trying.. but we conceived Abby the first month we tried. So this time, 2 months seems like forever.
This is such a bind.. on one hand, as I'm already a mom of one, I'm terrified to have another baby. I KNOW pregnancy, childbirth and the early months and years are no picnic. Working full time while pregnant, is not a cakewalk. Its exhausting, emotional, stressful - overall a difficult haul. And with a little one underfoot, I'm not sure how I'd do it. And now that I have a new job to learn, especially one that includes international travel, the prospect of having to work pregnancy around all of that is especially unpleasant.
However, despite all of that, today I'm just plain insanely sad to not be pregnant. What's not helping is that I feel time is passing me by - I'll be 38 in January. There is no time to waste. But this is not something I can just put my mind to and have it work out. Careers and education - my worries of past decades - I know now are much easier to be in control of. Matters related to life and love seem to be all luck, chance and circumstance.
I have so many worries. I'm worried that as Abby gets older and more independent, I'll lose my nerve. That if this waiting game goes on too long that I'll just not want to try anymore. Also, this rollercoaster of "am I or am I not" is really difficult to handle.
What's more stressful is that even if I get pregnant I know there's no guarantees. At my age there's about a 30% chance of miscarriage. I know a lot of people who have had one - or more. I remember the anxiety and terror of the first trimester with Abby... I bled off and on for the entire three months. The anxiety of wondering if she was ok, if she'd be healthy was so difficult to handle. Each doctor's appointment, each screening test, each ultrasound was so terrifying. By the time she was born I was beside myself with worry. Yet another contributing factor to the PPD.
How do I continue to let this go? I admitted to myself last week that I was "ok with whatever happened" but that was when I had an inkling that I might have been pregnant. I was pretty mixed up last week - on one hand, the pregnancy tests were both negative. After the first one on Sunday I cried my eyes out for hours. But despite it all, I was still trying to hang onto a bit of hope. But 2 negative pregnancy tests later, and now "Aunt Flo" is here. So its definite that I'm not pregnant. For someone who was "OK" with whatever happened - baby wise - I'm surprised at the strength of the grief and sadness that's pouring out of me this morning.
At 3am this morning I was so upset that I sought out the company of my husband. I woke him up to talk. God bless him - he woke up and talked with me until it was time to get up at 6:30. Sorry honey - I know you'll be exhausted today. I dont do that very often, because I dont want to wake him up. But I just couldnt help it today.
One thing we talked about in the dark was how we KNEW that God was working in our lives when we got married, and when Abby came along. That feeling that God is watching over your shoulder, and you have that wonderful glow of warmth and a strong God-presence was obvious to us both. Our wedding day was sunny, happy and bright. A perfect day. Our honeymoon was bright and glorious. And Abby came along 9 months later. All was perfect...
Except there have been so many hard things since then. The difficult pregnancy. The traumatic birth. The postpartum depression. The death of my father. My illnesses and surgery. My husband's "case". Losing my job. Our marriage has been was mired in the pain and helplessness or our our own individual painful circumstances. I have felt so far away from that warmth and radiance of God's love most days. A total opposite of how I felt on my wedding day and honeymoon. Lately the only praying I do is kind of an helpless, desperate with a bit of bitterness. Not at all like the joyous or warm prayers I felt leading up to our wedding, and the birth of our daughter.
Mind you I did get a bit of a reprieve.. I prayed on hands and knees a few weeks ago to get me out of my old job, away from that situation that was causing me such pain. 4 hours later I had a job offer.
But I still feel a million miles away with regards to God's guidance on having another baby......
3am this morning, I got up to pee... and it was obvious, I was definitely not pregnant. I spent the next 2 hours crying. I'm still weepy now 3 hours later.
I know that 2 months is not that long to be trying.. but we conceived Abby the first month we tried. So this time, 2 months seems like forever.
This is such a bind.. on one hand, as I'm already a mom of one, I'm terrified to have another baby. I KNOW pregnancy, childbirth and the early months and years are no picnic. Working full time while pregnant, is not a cakewalk. Its exhausting, emotional, stressful - overall a difficult haul. And with a little one underfoot, I'm not sure how I'd do it. And now that I have a new job to learn, especially one that includes international travel, the prospect of having to work pregnancy around all of that is especially unpleasant.
However, despite all of that, today I'm just plain insanely sad to not be pregnant. What's not helping is that I feel time is passing me by - I'll be 38 in January. There is no time to waste. But this is not something I can just put my mind to and have it work out. Careers and education - my worries of past decades - I know now are much easier to be in control of. Matters related to life and love seem to be all luck, chance and circumstance.
I have so many worries. I'm worried that as Abby gets older and more independent, I'll lose my nerve. That if this waiting game goes on too long that I'll just not want to try anymore. Also, this rollercoaster of "am I or am I not" is really difficult to handle.
What's more stressful is that even if I get pregnant I know there's no guarantees. At my age there's about a 30% chance of miscarriage. I know a lot of people who have had one - or more. I remember the anxiety and terror of the first trimester with Abby... I bled off and on for the entire three months. The anxiety of wondering if she was ok, if she'd be healthy was so difficult to handle. Each doctor's appointment, each screening test, each ultrasound was so terrifying. By the time she was born I was beside myself with worry. Yet another contributing factor to the PPD.
How do I continue to let this go? I admitted to myself last week that I was "ok with whatever happened" but that was when I had an inkling that I might have been pregnant. I was pretty mixed up last week - on one hand, the pregnancy tests were both negative. After the first one on Sunday I cried my eyes out for hours. But despite it all, I was still trying to hang onto a bit of hope. But 2 negative pregnancy tests later, and now "Aunt Flo" is here. So its definite that I'm not pregnant. For someone who was "OK" with whatever happened - baby wise - I'm surprised at the strength of the grief and sadness that's pouring out of me this morning.
At 3am this morning I was so upset that I sought out the company of my husband. I woke him up to talk. God bless him - he woke up and talked with me until it was time to get up at 6:30. Sorry honey - I know you'll be exhausted today. I dont do that very often, because I dont want to wake him up. But I just couldnt help it today.
One thing we talked about in the dark was how we KNEW that God was working in our lives when we got married, and when Abby came along. That feeling that God is watching over your shoulder, and you have that wonderful glow of warmth and a strong God-presence was obvious to us both. Our wedding day was sunny, happy and bright. A perfect day. Our honeymoon was bright and glorious. And Abby came along 9 months later. All was perfect...
Except there have been so many hard things since then. The difficult pregnancy. The traumatic birth. The postpartum depression. The death of my father. My illnesses and surgery. My husband's "case". Losing my job. Our marriage has been was mired in the pain and helplessness or our our own individual painful circumstances. I have felt so far away from that warmth and radiance of God's love most days. A total opposite of how I felt on my wedding day and honeymoon. Lately the only praying I do is kind of an helpless, desperate with a bit of bitterness. Not at all like the joyous or warm prayers I felt leading up to our wedding, and the birth of our daughter.
Mind you I did get a bit of a reprieve.. I prayed on hands and knees a few weeks ago to get me out of my old job, away from that situation that was causing me such pain. 4 hours later I had a job offer.
But I still feel a million miles away with regards to God's guidance on having another baby......
Monday, September 10, 2007
Not much new....
New job is good. I'm sleeping better.
No news on the trying to get pregnant front. Not sure if no news is good news or bad news.. just no news.
No news on the trying to get pregnant front. Not sure if no news is good news or bad news.. just no news.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Goodbyes and hellos
On Sept 4 I start a new job. It's not a huge change as I already know half the people in my new group. The subject matter is completely new though, and I'm a bit intimidated. There will be some travel, international travel, and I'm a bit scared about that. With the crises going on in the Middle East, I'm a little nervous about travelling to Egypt, in particular. I hope that aspect of the job has wrapped up for now and I'll be able to restrict my travelling to North America and Europe. For the next 12 months it appears thats where I'll be focussing.
I've just been up to my new office, setting up my cube. I'm pretty excited about the change I'm finding. I'm happy, there's a spring in my step. Looking forward to new challenges, intellectual discussions, and challenging my egg-headed-cranium. I hope I dont get too petrified about the travel.
I'm saying goodbye to a file and a job that has been nothing but misery for 14 months. I've tried to make it work, but it's been too much of a challenge. I was put in an acting managerial position but not given the opportunity to be fully staffed. When the remaining staff left, I was on my own. When I indicated to my boss that I was leaving, then suddenly the crisis became a crisis.. because it was now HIS crisis. Why was this not a crisis when it was MY crisis?
I'm tired of working in an environment in which I'm not given an opportunity to speak, provide input, have open discussions, and criticized for everything I do. I'm tired of having a boss who has an anger management problem. I'm used to being able to become a real expert in a particular subject, being recognized for it, and being able to provide advice and recommendations. I certainly don't expect management to take every recommendation and run with it, but the opposite extreme, where I have to be mute and servile, just doesn't work for me.
I hope that changes.
On to new things.
I've just been up to my new office, setting up my cube. I'm pretty excited about the change I'm finding. I'm happy, there's a spring in my step. Looking forward to new challenges, intellectual discussions, and challenging my egg-headed-cranium. I hope I dont get too petrified about the travel.
I'm saying goodbye to a file and a job that has been nothing but misery for 14 months. I've tried to make it work, but it's been too much of a challenge. I was put in an acting managerial position but not given the opportunity to be fully staffed. When the remaining staff left, I was on my own. When I indicated to my boss that I was leaving, then suddenly the crisis became a crisis.. because it was now HIS crisis. Why was this not a crisis when it was MY crisis?
I'm tired of working in an environment in which I'm not given an opportunity to speak, provide input, have open discussions, and criticized for everything I do. I'm tired of having a boss who has an anger management problem. I'm used to being able to become a real expert in a particular subject, being recognized for it, and being able to provide advice and recommendations. I certainly don't expect management to take every recommendation and run with it, but the opposite extreme, where I have to be mute and servile, just doesn't work for me.
I hope that changes.
On to new things.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Goodbyes.. and she doesnt even know what it means.
In 48 hours, our across-the-street neighbours are moving away. They are transplanted Newfies who have managed to find a way back to The Rock. I wish them well. Having visited NFLD only once I can totally understand why people from there would want to move back.
When my hubby and I moved into our house, one of the boys across the street was just over 12 months old, and the other one was not quite born. Now they are two wild and crazy boys, one is 3 and the other one is 4. My daughter has been going to daycare with them for 14 months. She just loves them. And I do too.
What's she going to do without them? Or is the question really, what am I going to do without them? Or is this issue really not about them, but about me? And all about this tapping into my previous experiences of loss? And my own fears about not having Cynthia to ask for advice on everything from daycare to managing grief?
When I was 10 years old my parents moved from Belleville to Brockville. It was an awful age to move. I had so many good friends that I'd been with since kindergarten. I missed them all so terribly. Its only been through luck and facebook that I've been able to track some of them down again. I dont think I've ever gotten over that move. I had visions at that time of my little friends and I being together always. And alas, it was not meant to be.
Since living here in Ottawa and having my daughter, and my horrible experiences over the past two years since my daughter was born, I really relied on the advice and experience of my neighbours, most of whom also have small children, for advice on everything from dealing with a newborn, up to daycare issues. I was so grateful to have that common bond, especially with the folks across the street. It took a load off my mind to know that we had one common daycare provider. It gave me a bit more "experience" to draw upon, experience with something I had absolutely no idea how to manage.
Good luck Cynthia, Luke, Aidan and Steven. I'll miss you.
When my hubby and I moved into our house, one of the boys across the street was just over 12 months old, and the other one was not quite born. Now they are two wild and crazy boys, one is 3 and the other one is 4. My daughter has been going to daycare with them for 14 months. She just loves them. And I do too.
What's she going to do without them? Or is the question really, what am I going to do without them? Or is this issue really not about them, but about me? And all about this tapping into my previous experiences of loss? And my own fears about not having Cynthia to ask for advice on everything from daycare to managing grief?
When I was 10 years old my parents moved from Belleville to Brockville. It was an awful age to move. I had so many good friends that I'd been with since kindergarten. I missed them all so terribly. Its only been through luck and facebook that I've been able to track some of them down again. I dont think I've ever gotten over that move. I had visions at that time of my little friends and I being together always. And alas, it was not meant to be.
Since living here in Ottawa and having my daughter, and my horrible experiences over the past two years since my daughter was born, I really relied on the advice and experience of my neighbours, most of whom also have small children, for advice on everything from dealing with a newborn, up to daycare issues. I was so grateful to have that common bond, especially with the folks across the street. It took a load off my mind to know that we had one common daycare provider. It gave me a bit more "experience" to draw upon, experience with something I had absolutely no idea how to manage.
Good luck Cynthia, Luke, Aidan and Steven. I'll miss you.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
I slept for TWENTY MINUTES last night
I'm freekin exhausted. 20 minutes? How am I managing to still be alive? This after only sleeping 3 hours the night before...
This has to be a new record for me.
Please pray for sleep for me... throw sheep at me, knock me out with a brick.. something!!!
This has to be a new record for me.
Please pray for sleep for me... throw sheep at me, knock me out with a brick.. something!!!
Monday, August 20, 2007
Let go and let God...
I'm still twisting over not being pregnant this month. And being 37 years old. And petrified of the "risks" of an "older pregnancy", the increased risks of infertility despite having a wonderful child already....
I have to learn to let this go. Otherwise I'm afraid it will destroy me and everything that I love. I have to find a way to remember how I felt back in 2000 - in a time when despite having NOTHING, I was really really happy.
I tend to get so complacent sometimes, and overestimate my influence on my own life. I start to think that all that I have is my own doing, and I forget that so many life outcomes, the REALLY important ones anyhow, whether they be life, death, birth, marriage, a new job, fortune or poverty - so many things happen in our life that are out of our control.
We have *some* control over the minor ones - such as whether or not one becomes a nurse, a truck driver, or some other profession, but even then, there still are things that happen that are out of our control. Whether our chosen profession has a financial downturn, whether our company goes out of business, whether we get transferred to a work unit that's being led by an angry, abusive control freak, or whether we are the victim of some other kind of workplace restructuring, who knows. These things are out of our control.
For most of my life I worked really hard to try and control things. TOO hard. For years I tried to "drive" the process of finding a relationship, of developing a career, of making friends, etc. All with little success.
In the relationship arena, for about 15 years, I met guys that were not right for me, and stuck with them for years. I tried to "make it work" when it was plain to see to everyone but my blind self that the situation I was in wasn't good for me. And I was miserable. But I tried and tried, busted my butt.... and at despite trying SO hard, at age 31 everything fell apart. I was over 30, single, jobless, homeless and hopeless.
That situation was so painful for me that I had no choice but to turn that situation over to God, and accept that what might happen in my life was not necessarily what I (thought I) wanted. I had to accept that there was a very real chance that I might not meet anyone, or if I did, by the time it happened, I'd be too old to have the family that I always dreamed of. Once I accepted that maybe God had a different plan for me than I thought I did... and maybe I should stop fighting it... it ALL happened exactly the way I wanted it to. Things became very easy. I met the man I eventually married, I found an amazing house the first day we looked, I got pregnant the first time I tried.
I thought I had the secret of life figured out and now I was on a roll.
And then came the birth of my daughter, the physical and emotional fall out of that, and subsequently, the sudden death of my father. After a string of good luck, some really painful things again. The one thing that I'd spent so much of my life waiting to have - a family - was cruelly, the one thing that was making my life extremely unbearable. I was suffering severely from postpartum depression, and then I suffered a second major blow of losing my father. And a third blow upon my return to work a year later - being transferred from a unit I really liked to one that was severely dysfunctional and crippling to my self esteem.
My lessons to learn now? I'm still figuring them out. While I do believe that God did have a hand in the happy AND painful life events, maybe sometimes God's hand doesn't always deliver good things. Perhaps the faith I'd developed years before helped me to bridge those difficult life transitions..
Perhaps God wanted all of us affected by these major changes to take a path we never would have if my daughter had not been born and my father had not died...
Who knows. The reasons for these recent painful "hand of God" actions are not yet revealed.
But... as I start to twist and stress over a second pregnancy, I am definitely forgetting the lessons that all of this experience has taught me. Back in 2000, I was so destitute, that "turning it over to God"... was all I could do. I had NOTHING at that point in my life. No job, no home, no relationship - I was living out of a few boxes and an IKEA wardrobe-on-wheels in my brother's living room, sleeping on his living room futon. But at that point in my life, I really learned to be happy. Despite having nothing, I was happier with myself and my life than I'd been, I think EVER.
And it was when I finally became HAPPY, that everything I said I wanted just started to appear. Maybe I was destined to have the things that I wanted.... but God had to reassert Himself in my life as a strong reminder that these things are NOT of my own doing, but of HIS.
Now that some time has passed, I'm making the mistake of again trying to CONTROL everything. Whether or not I manage to get pregnant and have another baby is just dominating my mind. I'm tormented over it. I'm not sleeping. I'm obsessing. I'm having a hard time thinking of anything else. I've definitely forgotten the lessons I learned back in the time when I had nothing. I have so much more than I did back then, yet I'm not very happy. How could I have forgotten all that I learned?
In hindsight, since 2000, everything that has happened to me has definitely had the hand of God in it.
Meeting my best childhood friend, who I eventually married, by the checkout aisle in a grocery store after not seeing him for 20 odd years? Hand of God.
Finding a great house the first day we were looking? Hand of God.
Getting pregnant on our wedding night and having an amazing daughter in my life? Hand of God.
Losing my dad suddenly and shockingly? Not pleasant, but still, the Hand of God.
Not all of God's interventions in my life lately have been pleasant, but I know God meant me to go through them in order to get closer to Him. And right now, I'm foolishly pushing God away. I'm stupidly trying to be the big guy.. trying to play God.
I'm now twisting in agony, trying to figure out the "right window" for getting pregnant...
I'm reading waay too much online information about "pregnancy over 35"..
I'm reading up on the right kind of ovulation predictor kits..
I'm reading copious quantities of literature on the "fertility risks" of being over 35...
I'm twisting up with worry that my new job will send me halfway around the world during one of my last few precious opportunities to get pregnant before the age-door slams shut on my ovaries...
I'm insanely and insecurely bugging everyone I know for that "reassurance" that I'll get pregnant, have a healthy second child and everything will be okay..
But who knows? Who really knows?
And again, I'm not sleeping. Despite all the wonderful things that God HAS delivered to me. Here I am, worrying about things that may or may not happen, trying to direct everything. Getting all twisted up again, to the point of not sleeping and not enjoying my life. Life is truly the biggest gift that God has given me. Who the h*(&) do I think I am to not appreciate this gift?
My dear, you have to stop trying to BE God... let go.. and let God!
I have to learn to let this go. Otherwise I'm afraid it will destroy me and everything that I love. I have to find a way to remember how I felt back in 2000 - in a time when despite having NOTHING, I was really really happy.
I tend to get so complacent sometimes, and overestimate my influence on my own life. I start to think that all that I have is my own doing, and I forget that so many life outcomes, the REALLY important ones anyhow, whether they be life, death, birth, marriage, a new job, fortune or poverty - so many things happen in our life that are out of our control.
We have *some* control over the minor ones - such as whether or not one becomes a nurse, a truck driver, or some other profession, but even then, there still are things that happen that are out of our control. Whether our chosen profession has a financial downturn, whether our company goes out of business, whether we get transferred to a work unit that's being led by an angry, abusive control freak, or whether we are the victim of some other kind of workplace restructuring, who knows. These things are out of our control.
For most of my life I worked really hard to try and control things. TOO hard. For years I tried to "drive" the process of finding a relationship, of developing a career, of making friends, etc. All with little success.
In the relationship arena, for about 15 years, I met guys that were not right for me, and stuck with them for years. I tried to "make it work" when it was plain to see to everyone but my blind self that the situation I was in wasn't good for me. And I was miserable. But I tried and tried, busted my butt.... and at despite trying SO hard, at age 31 everything fell apart. I was over 30, single, jobless, homeless and hopeless.
That situation was so painful for me that I had no choice but to turn that situation over to God, and accept that what might happen in my life was not necessarily what I (thought I) wanted. I had to accept that there was a very real chance that I might not meet anyone, or if I did, by the time it happened, I'd be too old to have the family that I always dreamed of. Once I accepted that maybe God had a different plan for me than I thought I did... and maybe I should stop fighting it... it ALL happened exactly the way I wanted it to. Things became very easy. I met the man I eventually married, I found an amazing house the first day we looked, I got pregnant the first time I tried.
I thought I had the secret of life figured out and now I was on a roll.
And then came the birth of my daughter, the physical and emotional fall out of that, and subsequently, the sudden death of my father. After a string of good luck, some really painful things again. The one thing that I'd spent so much of my life waiting to have - a family - was cruelly, the one thing that was making my life extremely unbearable. I was suffering severely from postpartum depression, and then I suffered a second major blow of losing my father. And a third blow upon my return to work a year later - being transferred from a unit I really liked to one that was severely dysfunctional and crippling to my self esteem.
My lessons to learn now? I'm still figuring them out. While I do believe that God did have a hand in the happy AND painful life events, maybe sometimes God's hand doesn't always deliver good things. Perhaps the faith I'd developed years before helped me to bridge those difficult life transitions..
Perhaps God wanted all of us affected by these major changes to take a path we never would have if my daughter had not been born and my father had not died...
Who knows. The reasons for these recent painful "hand of God" actions are not yet revealed.
But... as I start to twist and stress over a second pregnancy, I am definitely forgetting the lessons that all of this experience has taught me. Back in 2000, I was so destitute, that "turning it over to God"... was all I could do. I had NOTHING at that point in my life. No job, no home, no relationship - I was living out of a few boxes and an IKEA wardrobe-on-wheels in my brother's living room, sleeping on his living room futon. But at that point in my life, I really learned to be happy. Despite having nothing, I was happier with myself and my life than I'd been, I think EVER.
And it was when I finally became HAPPY, that everything I said I wanted just started to appear. Maybe I was destined to have the things that I wanted.... but God had to reassert Himself in my life as a strong reminder that these things are NOT of my own doing, but of HIS.
Now that some time has passed, I'm making the mistake of again trying to CONTROL everything. Whether or not I manage to get pregnant and have another baby is just dominating my mind. I'm tormented over it. I'm not sleeping. I'm obsessing. I'm having a hard time thinking of anything else. I've definitely forgotten the lessons I learned back in the time when I had nothing. I have so much more than I did back then, yet I'm not very happy. How could I have forgotten all that I learned?
In hindsight, since 2000, everything that has happened to me has definitely had the hand of God in it.
Meeting my best childhood friend, who I eventually married, by the checkout aisle in a grocery store after not seeing him for 20 odd years? Hand of God.
Finding a great house the first day we were looking? Hand of God.
Getting pregnant on our wedding night and having an amazing daughter in my life? Hand of God.
Losing my dad suddenly and shockingly? Not pleasant, but still, the Hand of God.
Not all of God's interventions in my life lately have been pleasant, but I know God meant me to go through them in order to get closer to Him. And right now, I'm foolishly pushing God away. I'm stupidly trying to be the big guy.. trying to play God.
I'm now twisting in agony, trying to figure out the "right window" for getting pregnant...
I'm reading waay too much online information about "pregnancy over 35"..
I'm reading up on the right kind of ovulation predictor kits..
I'm reading copious quantities of literature on the "fertility risks" of being over 35...
I'm twisting up with worry that my new job will send me halfway around the world during one of my last few precious opportunities to get pregnant before the age-door slams shut on my ovaries...
I'm insanely and insecurely bugging everyone I know for that "reassurance" that I'll get pregnant, have a healthy second child and everything will be okay..
But who knows? Who really knows?
And again, I'm not sleeping. Despite all the wonderful things that God HAS delivered to me. Here I am, worrying about things that may or may not happen, trying to direct everything. Getting all twisted up again, to the point of not sleeping and not enjoying my life. Life is truly the biggest gift that God has given me. Who the h*(&) do I think I am to not appreciate this gift?
My dear, you have to stop trying to BE God... let go.. and let God!
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Wishing on someone else's star
I guess I must be wishin on someone else's star
It seems like someone else keeps getting what I'm wishin for
Why can't I be as lucky as those other people are?
I guess I must be wishin on someone else's star,
Why can't I be as lucky as those other people are?
Oh I guess I must be wishin on someone else's star...
Ok I dont know who wrote this song originally but its pretty relevant today.
I'm not pregnant. I thought I was. I was sure I was.
We conceived Abby the first time we tried. Not so this time.
All the old fears of being "too old" are now flaring up, I'm having a hard time not crying today. Many of my younger friends had no problems concieving first time they tried, for ALL their kids. Being younger, they also have the luxury of not feeling like they have a biological gun to their heads if it doesnt work out for a few months. Me? Not so much luxury.
What's coming to mind today is the pain I felt when I was dumped 2 days after my 30th birthday. I tried so hard to hold onto that relationship, to make it work. I know he was NOT the right person.. why the hell did I stick around so long? Why did I think that was going to work? Why did I waste precious time?
Don't get me wrong. I dont want to paint a picture of NOT being grateful for wha I have. I am extremely lucky that things worked out the way they did for now... and I'm EXTREMELY grateful for having a great husband and one amazing child in my life. But I can't help thinking, because of circumstances, and my age, that I may not ever have the family I dreamed of. The day I was dumped back in 2000, I saw the faces of my little boy and a little girl in my mind, and that day, they disappeared. It was the saddest vision I'd seen in my whole life. I managed to "save" the little girl, but what about her brother?
I'm going to be 38 in January. Many people will say "you're not too old" but all medical information states that there's a significant drop in female fertility at age 37.
Again, I know i'm not too old, but the chance that baby #2 may not come along is definitely higher than for a younger woman.
I hope it all works. I guess God will deliver what is meant to be.
But Today I can't help feeling really sad.
It seems like someone else keeps getting what I'm wishin for
Why can't I be as lucky as those other people are?
I guess I must be wishin on someone else's star,
Why can't I be as lucky as those other people are?
Oh I guess I must be wishin on someone else's star...
Ok I dont know who wrote this song originally but its pretty relevant today.
I'm not pregnant. I thought I was. I was sure I was.
We conceived Abby the first time we tried. Not so this time.
All the old fears of being "too old" are now flaring up, I'm having a hard time not crying today. Many of my younger friends had no problems concieving first time they tried, for ALL their kids. Being younger, they also have the luxury of not feeling like they have a biological gun to their heads if it doesnt work out for a few months. Me? Not so much luxury.
What's coming to mind today is the pain I felt when I was dumped 2 days after my 30th birthday. I tried so hard to hold onto that relationship, to make it work. I know he was NOT the right person.. why the hell did I stick around so long? Why did I think that was going to work? Why did I waste precious time?
Don't get me wrong. I dont want to paint a picture of NOT being grateful for wha I have. I am extremely lucky that things worked out the way they did for now... and I'm EXTREMELY grateful for having a great husband and one amazing child in my life. But I can't help thinking, because of circumstances, and my age, that I may not ever have the family I dreamed of. The day I was dumped back in 2000, I saw the faces of my little boy and a little girl in my mind, and that day, they disappeared. It was the saddest vision I'd seen in my whole life. I managed to "save" the little girl, but what about her brother?
I'm going to be 38 in January. Many people will say "you're not too old" but all medical information states that there's a significant drop in female fertility at age 37.
Again, I know i'm not too old, but the chance that baby #2 may not come along is definitely higher than for a younger woman.
I hope it all works. I guess God will deliver what is meant to be.
But Today I can't help feeling really sad.
Friday, August 10, 2007
I'm FREE!!!!
I had a discussion with my potential new employer... it appears their travel budget has been cut so there is not as much international travel. They have to be a lot more choosy about where they go and how often.
In addition, they have a good idea of the travel requirements and work schedule for the next 12 months. And luckily, many of the upcoming meetings are going to be in Canada (WOO HOO!! Montreal!!)
I'm looking at 1-3 international trips (2-4 days to Mexico - recommended but not mandatory), Viet Nam (1 week - optional) and Germany (10 days - mandatory) in 12 months. There will also likely be 2 domestic trips (Toronto? Vancouver?) and 3 to Montreal.
Sounds good to me!
My other concern was overtime. I know that sometimes these trade jobs can be really tedious and demanding. However, with respect to overtime, my manager said that he doesnt' work much if any overtime. He also stated that the current staff component and "vibe" is a lot more laid back than it's been in years, and also they all work as a team. The big boss is pretty laid back and doesn't get too uptight if someone can't work overtime or go on a particular trip. The manager indicated that everyone really gets along and they have the capacity to cover for each other in times of overload.
So on that note, in my mind yesterday I said YES! And I notified the manager this morning!
And last night, I had the best sleep I've had in MONTHS!!!! WOOO!!!
I'm so happy!!!!!!
In addition, they have a good idea of the travel requirements and work schedule for the next 12 months. And luckily, many of the upcoming meetings are going to be in Canada (WOO HOO!! Montreal!!)
I'm looking at 1-3 international trips (2-4 days to Mexico - recommended but not mandatory), Viet Nam (1 week - optional) and Germany (10 days - mandatory) in 12 months. There will also likely be 2 domestic trips (Toronto? Vancouver?) and 3 to Montreal.
Sounds good to me!
My other concern was overtime. I know that sometimes these trade jobs can be really tedious and demanding. However, with respect to overtime, my manager said that he doesnt' work much if any overtime. He also stated that the current staff component and "vibe" is a lot more laid back than it's been in years, and also they all work as a team. The big boss is pretty laid back and doesn't get too uptight if someone can't work overtime or go on a particular trip. The manager indicated that everyone really gets along and they have the capacity to cover for each other in times of overload.
So on that note, in my mind yesterday I said YES! And I notified the manager this morning!
And last night, I had the best sleep I've had in MONTHS!!!! WOOO!!!
I'm so happy!!!!!!
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Torn...
Ok.. as many of my friends and family know, I'm in the search for a new job. I've been really frustrated with my current position, and all the nonsense that's happened to it over the past 14 months. I've been searching for a new position, and yesterday I got an offer. Great file, great subject, interesting work, nice people, but there's one drawback. I don't know if I'm up for all the travel demands that this job could pose. Especially as my husband and I are trying to have another baby. Work while pregnant is hard. Travelling while pregnant is brutal. And excessive international travel to Asia and South America may just be impossible. And risky.
What to do?
What to do?
The little one is lost
The little one gave up on her fight for life... 5 days after her birth.
I'm so sad.
I'm so sad.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
The little one is doing better...
Or so I hear.... apparently her oxygen-induced-brain-damage is not as bad as originally thought. They think she just might make it. Still keep your fingers crossed.
On vacation for 2 weeks.. probably won't post much. On an up note - I"m sleeping! On vacation & sleeping... coincidence?
I think not.
On vacation for 2 weeks.. probably won't post much. On an up note - I"m sleeping! On vacation & sleeping... coincidence?
I think not.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Light a candle for a little one...
I heard some bad news about an acquaintance today. The caregiver for the toddler of a good friend of mine had a c-section at 30 weeks pregnancy. The baby had blocked kidneys, resulting in very low amniotic fluid. The low fluid caused compression of the umbilical cord, restricting the oxygen supply to the infant.
The baby apparently has significant brain damage and cannot function off life support. The family may decide in a few days to take the baby off life support. The baby will probably not make it.
********
I know these are things that affect someone else, but ever since I've become a mother, it's like I've become the mother to the whole wide world. Things that affect moms, children and babies can bring me to tears quicker than anything, especially if they affect someone I know, or have even met.
So anyone who reads this, light a candle for the soul of this little one, and for his mom's broken heart.
The baby apparently has significant brain damage and cannot function off life support. The family may decide in a few days to take the baby off life support. The baby will probably not make it.
********
I know these are things that affect someone else, but ever since I've become a mother, it's like I've become the mother to the whole wide world. Things that affect moms, children and babies can bring me to tears quicker than anything, especially if they affect someone I know, or have even met.
So anyone who reads this, light a candle for the soul of this little one, and for his mom's broken heart.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Still searching.. and exhausted
Ok, that one night of good sleep was just that - one night.
Ironically, it came the night I found out that one place that I was hoping to go work no longer had any openings.
I am definitely torn right now.
My H and I want another baby, and being five months from turning 38, we dont have the luxury of time to wait until things are "right" in our lives. We'd like to try and time it so that the baby is again born in June - so my mom will be available to come up and help. This means pregnancy in August or September.
Pretty soon!
Seeing as I'm the one with the uterus, it will definitely be me that will have to take one for the team with respect to morning sickness, exhaustion, and "the pregnancy stupids" while still trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism. It was really really difficult last time.
But for the sake of my mental health, I also really need to find a new job. I'm not looking forward to the possibility of being pregnant and learning a new job at the same time. Its hard to impress a new employer while you are scarfing down crackers all day long and trying to avoid wharfing on the boardroom table during a staff meeting or a senior management briefing session.
Also, mat leave in this country generally means 12 months away from the office. While that sounds great, having this happen shortly after going to a new team does not sit well with me. The last time I was on mat leave I left a group and a file I really really liked. I got reassigned upon return from leave to a file I hated, and subsequently, that file got transferred to a group in which I definitely don't belong. I'm still trying to figure out a way out of this mess.
This transfer has affected a lot of things about my career, and my self esteem with respect to work - and not in a good way. I don't want to have that happen again. I want to find a file I really like and stay there for a few years.
But all bets are off if you go away on leave.
It would be easier to go on mat leave from the current job I have - I would not have a learning curve to address while trying not to puke on my computer or my coworkers. I also would not have any guilt about going on leave.
I'm so torn, and I sit up at night trying to wrestle this issue through.
My friends say to me "don't look for trouble" - meaning that things may all work out for the best, or that I'll be able to manage my way through, no matter what happens. But with the unbearable events of the last pregnancy phase of my life still fresh in my mind (health problems, difficult delivery, postpartum depression, surgery, losing my dad, losing my position at work and being transferred) its hard not to worry.
I suppose I should keep reminding myself that this time may not be the same as last time, and I should take it as it comes. Life does not always present itself in nice, neat and orderly packages.
Ironically, it came the night I found out that one place that I was hoping to go work no longer had any openings.
I am definitely torn right now.
My H and I want another baby, and being five months from turning 38, we dont have the luxury of time to wait until things are "right" in our lives. We'd like to try and time it so that the baby is again born in June - so my mom will be available to come up and help. This means pregnancy in August or September.
Pretty soon!
Seeing as I'm the one with the uterus, it will definitely be me that will have to take one for the team with respect to morning sickness, exhaustion, and "the pregnancy stupids" while still trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism. It was really really difficult last time.
But for the sake of my mental health, I also really need to find a new job. I'm not looking forward to the possibility of being pregnant and learning a new job at the same time. Its hard to impress a new employer while you are scarfing down crackers all day long and trying to avoid wharfing on the boardroom table during a staff meeting or a senior management briefing session.
Also, mat leave in this country generally means 12 months away from the office. While that sounds great, having this happen shortly after going to a new team does not sit well with me. The last time I was on mat leave I left a group and a file I really really liked. I got reassigned upon return from leave to a file I hated, and subsequently, that file got transferred to a group in which I definitely don't belong. I'm still trying to figure out a way out of this mess.
This transfer has affected a lot of things about my career, and my self esteem with respect to work - and not in a good way. I don't want to have that happen again. I want to find a file I really like and stay there for a few years.
But all bets are off if you go away on leave.
It would be easier to go on mat leave from the current job I have - I would not have a learning curve to address while trying not to puke on my computer or my coworkers. I also would not have any guilt about going on leave.
I'm so torn, and I sit up at night trying to wrestle this issue through.
My friends say to me "don't look for trouble" - meaning that things may all work out for the best, or that I'll be able to manage my way through, no matter what happens. But with the unbearable events of the last pregnancy phase of my life still fresh in my mind (health problems, difficult delivery, postpartum depression, surgery, losing my dad, losing my position at work and being transferred) its hard not to worry.
I suppose I should keep reminding myself that this time may not be the same as last time, and I should take it as it comes. Life does not always present itself in nice, neat and orderly packages.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Sleep at last.. and then some gas...
I swear I must release something the moment I start writing on this place. I managed 7 hours of uninterrupted zzzz's last night. From 9:30 am until 34:30 am. I woke up pretty early but I'm fairly rested. Amazing.
Job hunt is still frustrating, a place that I had hoped would come through just called me at the end of yesterday to tell me they had no positions after all. Summer is a bad time to look for work, that's for sure.
What's most disturbing about my work these days is the semi-regular instances of "gaslighting" that have been happening. A few months ago my position and my file (as well as a few others) were transferred from one branch of our department to another. The rationale behind the move was not well planned or thought out, despite the "powers that be" believing otherwise. There was no discussion on the move before it happened, and a lot of misconceptions about our work and our role. Since that time, its been a frustrating experience not only trying to deal with the staffing freezes, but also to establish/re-establish our purpose. I inherited the acting manager's position along with the transfer, which was also a new experience for me. I inherited a big mess that's for sure.
Because of the misconceptions and misperceptions, and a history of just not sitting down and talking things through face to face, there's been a LOT of friction within our new branch and between the old one and the new one. Whether certain people have realized they have made mistakes, or maybe due to their own insecurity, or their own lack of knowledge and unwillingness to sit down and learn, there has been a lot of "gaslighting" going on after the fact.
I used to be a very confident person at work. My old work unit (from2002-2005) gave me a lot of autonomy, a lot of empowerment, and they really listened to me. They took my advice, told me when they were able to use it, and if something came up that was not going to be easy to handle, they talked to me like an adult about it. Things have been very different since coming back from mat leave.
Now about the gaslighting. What is it you may ask? Why am I starting to doubt myself? Why do I feel like I'm going crazy? Well here's the definition of gaslighting:
From Wikipedia:
A variation of gaslighting, used as a form of harassment, is to subtly alter aspects of a victim's environment, thereby upsetting his or her peace of mind, sense of security, etc., such as was used by the Manson Family during their "creepy crawler" burglaries during which nothing was stolen, but furniture in the house was rearranged.
The term was coined from the 1940 film Gaslight and its 1944 remake in which changes in gas light levels are experienced several times by the main character. The classic example in the film is the character Gregory using the gas lamps in the attic, causing the rest of the lamps in the house to dim slightly; when Paula comments on the lights' dimming, she is told she is imagining things. Paula believes herself alone in the house when the dimming occurs, unaware that Gregory has entered the attic from the house next door, and is searching for jewels he believes to be hidden there. The sinister interpretation of the change in light levels is part of a larger pattern of deception to which the character Paula is subjected.
I'd like to believe that all the stupidity that's happening right now is just that. Stupidity. And that there's no sinister "conspiracy theory" in place. But of course, I start to worry. In the past few months I've been criticized and blamed for a LOT of things. Somehow, so many things all wind up as MY fault. Misconceptions, poor decisions, they all have an element of "Blame Patty" in it. And I'm sick of it. I've done nothing wrong, except be at the wrong place at the wrong time.. oh and not document everything to the exact letter to cover my butt.
The way things seem to happen in my line of work these days, executives are all powerful and all knowing, and those of us who don't have that "authority" are ignored. We don't have any opportunity air grievances, to right wrongs, to set the record straight, to protect our reputations. And it's happened too much lately for me to feel totally comfortable in where I am.
Another reason to seek a change, or at least to be a moving target for awhile.
Job hunt is still frustrating, a place that I had hoped would come through just called me at the end of yesterday to tell me they had no positions after all. Summer is a bad time to look for work, that's for sure.
What's most disturbing about my work these days is the semi-regular instances of "gaslighting" that have been happening. A few months ago my position and my file (as well as a few others) were transferred from one branch of our department to another. The rationale behind the move was not well planned or thought out, despite the "powers that be" believing otherwise. There was no discussion on the move before it happened, and a lot of misconceptions about our work and our role. Since that time, its been a frustrating experience not only trying to deal with the staffing freezes, but also to establish/re-establish our purpose. I inherited the acting manager's position along with the transfer, which was also a new experience for me. I inherited a big mess that's for sure.
Because of the misconceptions and misperceptions, and a history of just not sitting down and talking things through face to face, there's been a LOT of friction within our new branch and between the old one and the new one. Whether certain people have realized they have made mistakes, or maybe due to their own insecurity, or their own lack of knowledge and unwillingness to sit down and learn, there has been a lot of "gaslighting" going on after the fact.
I used to be a very confident person at work. My old work unit (from2002-2005) gave me a lot of autonomy, a lot of empowerment, and they really listened to me. They took my advice, told me when they were able to use it, and if something came up that was not going to be easy to handle, they talked to me like an adult about it. Things have been very different since coming back from mat leave.
Now about the gaslighting. What is it you may ask? Why am I starting to doubt myself? Why do I feel like I'm going crazy? Well here's the definition of gaslighting:
From Wikipedia:
What's gaslighting? Gaslighting is a form of psychological abuse. It uses persistent denials of fact which, as they build up over time, make the victim progressively anxious, confused, and unable to trust his or her own memory and perception.
A variation of gaslighting, used as a form of harassment, is to subtly alter aspects of a victim's environment, thereby upsetting his or her peace of mind, sense of security, etc., such as was used by the Manson Family during their "creepy crawler" burglaries during which nothing was stolen, but furniture in the house was rearranged.
The term was coined from the 1940 film Gaslight and its 1944 remake in which changes in gas light levels are experienced several times by the main character. The classic example in the film is the character Gregory using the gas lamps in the attic, causing the rest of the lamps in the house to dim slightly; when Paula comments on the lights' dimming, she is told she is imagining things. Paula believes herself alone in the house when the dimming occurs, unaware that Gregory has entered the attic from the house next door, and is searching for jewels he believes to be hidden there. The sinister interpretation of the change in light levels is part of a larger pattern of deception to which the character Paula is subjected.
I'd like to believe that all the stupidity that's happening right now is just that. Stupidity. And that there's no sinister "conspiracy theory" in place. But of course, I start to worry. In the past few months I've been criticized and blamed for a LOT of things. Somehow, so many things all wind up as MY fault. Misconceptions, poor decisions, they all have an element of "Blame Patty" in it. And I'm sick of it. I've done nothing wrong, except be at the wrong place at the wrong time.. oh and not document everything to the exact letter to cover my butt.
The way things seem to happen in my line of work these days, executives are all powerful and all knowing, and those of us who don't have that "authority" are ignored. We don't have any opportunity air grievances, to right wrongs, to set the record straight, to protect our reputations. And it's happened too much lately for me to feel totally comfortable in where I am.
Another reason to seek a change, or at least to be a moving target for awhile.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Title: Sleep is a bastard (I cant post the title on my blog today for some reason)
I've been in an insomniac phase for a week now. I hate this.
I've got so much on my mind, it just races and races. Hours after trying to get to sleep I'm crumpled in a crying, sobbing, frustrated heap on my mattress. I sleep for maybe, at best, two hours and then I'm up again. Other times I fall "asleep" but when the morning comes, I dont feel like I slept at all, my sleep is so shallow and broken.
I'm so tired right now I can't sit up straight. It takes too much energy. The pain of slouching is killing me. My back hurts so much I think I'm going to die. Typing at the keyboard is strenuous. And walking down the hall? Forget it. I'm trying my best to avoid people so I dont forget what I was saying or burst into crying mid-conversation.
My dad was a serious insomniac. I must have inherited it from him. I've not slept well since I was about 18. I am prone to periodic bouts of poor sleep during times of stress. But for the past 20 years my life has been one chronic "period of stress".
Right now I know I need to find a new job. The current situation I'm in is not suiting me well. I got transferred to a file and now a position I didn't choose after I returned from Maternity leave last year. I certainly would never have applied to this place/position. It's not a good fit, and I I have to go. In addition to the "not the best fit", I've spent 90% of my time this past year working on HR plans and trying to hire people only to have the doors continually slammed in my face. As a result, not much gets done, and my job satisfaction and enthusiasm is completely sapped. I have to get out of here before I become completely cynical and unproductive.
Due to a variety of decisions-beyond-my-control, as of early August I will be completely without staff, but will still be responsible for at least 3-4 workloads. I dont have any extra time or energy to spend on working overtime - I have a young child to care for who doesn't really care that "Mommy had a last minute policy development meeting and left me at the babysitter until 7pm". Even if I COULD work overtime, my daughter only has ONE childhood and I'll be damned if I miss too much of it because of stupid HR decisions beyond-my-control.
I have to get the hell out of here before or shortly after I'm completely de-staffed. I've been calling people, sending CV's, etc. A few nibbles, but so far nothing firm. It's summer, not much happens in any workplace. So I'm sitting on pins and needles, wondering what is going to happen, petrified and helpless. In so many ways I feel like the proverbial woman tied to the train track with the locomotive bearing down on me. Its now 100 m away and the ropes are not budging.
I've also *really* had it with run ins with people in positions of authority who are arrogant, cynical, angry, aggressive liars and manipulators who ignore those of us who are "lesser beings". What's amazing is those that exhibit the worst traits keep on getting promoted. I must be too good at being a human being to get promoted.
My husband and I are not getting along right now. What possesses him to stay up until 3 am every night playing online poker or watching TV instead of spending time with me and coming to bed and getting sleep is beyond me. It's driving me mad. We have so many positive and productive things that we could be doing but NOOOO! I can't stand it anymore. I hope something breaks on that scene, and soon.
I also want another baby, but I'm terrified. I'd love to wait until all this life "turmoil" dies down but we dont have the luxury of time. Every year that passes by after age 35 marks a significant jump in the risk of genetic problems and a significant reduction in fertility. I wish I didnt have this biological gun to my head. I'm under enough stress as it is. I don't want to be starting a new job and pregnant, it will be difficult, let alone the guilt I'll have when I have to explain to my new employers "thanks for the training period but I'll be taking a year off now". Pregnancy and maternity leave is really not good for your career. I'm grateful that we have a 1 year mat leave policy here in Canada but it really is not good for one's career development. I hate the fact that I'm the one who's the major bread winner and also the one who owns the uterus.
And I wonder why I'm not sleeping.
******
A disclaimer - I'm sure this post will elicit a lot of advice from well meaning people. But believe me, I've been in treatment for insomnia for two decades now. I've taken enough medication to choke a horse. I've removed caffeine from my diet. I refuse to watch upsetting or emotionally wrenching TV or movies. I've drastically cut down on junk foods and sugary foods. I've tried to balance my life. I exercise almost daily. I try to do a few yoga moves daily and go to a regular class 2x per month. I've consulted with literally hundreds of professionals: psychotherapists, massage therapists, social workers, psychiatric nurses, psychiatrists, hypnotherapists, physiotherapists, acupuncturists, nutritionists, doctors, self help groups, group therapy, couples' therapy, books, you name it, I've tried it.
And I'm still not sleeping.
So please don't feel offended if I don't take your advice!
I've been in an insomniac phase for a week now. I hate this.
I've got so much on my mind, it just races and races. Hours after trying to get to sleep I'm crumpled in a crying, sobbing, frustrated heap on my mattress. I sleep for maybe, at best, two hours and then I'm up again. Other times I fall "asleep" but when the morning comes, I dont feel like I slept at all, my sleep is so shallow and broken.
I'm so tired right now I can't sit up straight. It takes too much energy. The pain of slouching is killing me. My back hurts so much I think I'm going to die. Typing at the keyboard is strenuous. And walking down the hall? Forget it. I'm trying my best to avoid people so I dont forget what I was saying or burst into crying mid-conversation.
My dad was a serious insomniac. I must have inherited it from him. I've not slept well since I was about 18. I am prone to periodic bouts of poor sleep during times of stress. But for the past 20 years my life has been one chronic "period of stress".
Right now I know I need to find a new job. The current situation I'm in is not suiting me well. I got transferred to a file and now a position I didn't choose after I returned from Maternity leave last year. I certainly would never have applied to this place/position. It's not a good fit, and I I have to go. In addition to the "not the best fit", I've spent 90% of my time this past year working on HR plans and trying to hire people only to have the doors continually slammed in my face. As a result, not much gets done, and my job satisfaction and enthusiasm is completely sapped. I have to get out of here before I become completely cynical and unproductive.
Due to a variety of decisions-beyond-my-control, as of early August I will be completely without staff, but will still be responsible for at least 3-4 workloads. I dont have any extra time or energy to spend on working overtime - I have a young child to care for who doesn't really care that "Mommy had a last minute policy development meeting and left me at the babysitter until 7pm". Even if I COULD work overtime, my daughter only has ONE childhood and I'll be damned if I miss too much of it because of stupid HR decisions beyond-my-control.
I have to get the hell out of here before or shortly after I'm completely de-staffed. I've been calling people, sending CV's, etc. A few nibbles, but so far nothing firm. It's summer, not much happens in any workplace. So I'm sitting on pins and needles, wondering what is going to happen, petrified and helpless. In so many ways I feel like the proverbial woman tied to the train track with the locomotive bearing down on me. Its now 100 m away and the ropes are not budging.
I've also *really* had it with run ins with people in positions of authority who are arrogant, cynical, angry, aggressive liars and manipulators who ignore those of us who are "lesser beings". What's amazing is those that exhibit the worst traits keep on getting promoted. I must be too good at being a human being to get promoted.
My husband and I are not getting along right now. What possesses him to stay up until 3 am every night playing online poker or watching TV instead of spending time with me and coming to bed and getting sleep is beyond me. It's driving me mad. We have so many positive and productive things that we could be doing but NOOOO! I can't stand it anymore. I hope something breaks on that scene, and soon.
I also want another baby, but I'm terrified. I'd love to wait until all this life "turmoil" dies down but we dont have the luxury of time. Every year that passes by after age 35 marks a significant jump in the risk of genetic problems and a significant reduction in fertility. I wish I didnt have this biological gun to my head. I'm under enough stress as it is. I don't want to be starting a new job and pregnant, it will be difficult, let alone the guilt I'll have when I have to explain to my new employers "thanks for the training period but I'll be taking a year off now". Pregnancy and maternity leave is really not good for your career. I'm grateful that we have a 1 year mat leave policy here in Canada but it really is not good for one's career development. I hate the fact that I'm the one who's the major bread winner and also the one who owns the uterus.
And I wonder why I'm not sleeping.
******
A disclaimer - I'm sure this post will elicit a lot of advice from well meaning people. But believe me, I've been in treatment for insomnia for two decades now. I've taken enough medication to choke a horse. I've removed caffeine from my diet. I refuse to watch upsetting or emotionally wrenching TV or movies. I've drastically cut down on junk foods and sugary foods. I've tried to balance my life. I exercise almost daily. I try to do a few yoga moves daily and go to a regular class 2x per month. I've consulted with literally hundreds of professionals: psychotherapists, massage therapists, social workers, psychiatric nurses, psychiatrists, hypnotherapists, physiotherapists, acupuncturists, nutritionists, doctors, self help groups, group therapy, couples' therapy, books, you name it, I've tried it.
And I'm still not sleeping.
So please don't feel offended if I don't take your advice!
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Conflicting emotions
Its been 20 months since my dad died. Enough time has passed that I'm not locked in chronic, exhausting, painful grief. I feel that I'm definitely through the acute grief, but there are still so many issues left unresolved.
My dad was a difficult person. But also a passionate and caring person. He could be a lot of fun, but he was also very very high maintenance.
As the months roll by since his death, in one way I'm starting to feel a lot more peaceful and a lot less stressed out, as there's a definite reduction in "drama" in my life. My dad approached life in an extreme sort of way. Things were perfect, or horrible. People were amazing, or complete idiots. There were few shades of gray in my dad's world.
My dad was also extreme about himself. He had a penchant for self abuse, manifested by addictions to cigarettes, alcohol, and prescription/over the counter medications. I don't doubt that the sudden and shocking heart attack he suffered was due to a long term abuse of some pretty heavy duty tranquilizer medications. I worried for years about his lungs (his mother died of lung cancer and emphysema - she was a long term smoker) about his liver (he drank way too much), about his brain (he had drug tolerance/withdrawal seizures for years). I worried about him getting into an "impaired" accident, having such a strong dependency and a lot of use of a variety of substances. Ironically, I never worried about his heart. And it was a heart attack that killed him. On the downstairs couch, no less. What could be a safer place?
I hate to admit, but my dad's death has created a feeling of peace and relief with respect to his self destructive and dramatic side. I don't have to worry if he's going to fall off the wagon, and hold the rest of the family as emotional hostages. I don't have to put up with his sudden rage-moods, where he'd rant and rave at us, using us as his emotional "venting" receptacles. I don't have to hear about his subtle and not so subtle threats about him hurting himself, or worse. I don't have to hear him rant and rage at me, call me names, insult me (and others) or other painful experiences. That part of my life is over. Forever. And for that I'm grateful.
Don't get me wrong. I loved my dad, despite all his faults.
He had another side. He had a fun side which was equal in intensity to his dark side. He could laugh like nobody else, he had a bizarre, eccentric and "outside the box" sense of humour which was totally and completely in sync with mine. We had a lot of good times, a lot of big laughs. When things were good in our family, they were outstanding. I am often reminded in little ways about the fun things we did - our years as a family in the Air Cadet program, family trips and outings, fun meals and holidays.
I was thinking the other day about the fact that 20 months HAVE passed since his death, and how many new things have happened, that if he was to come back tomorrow he'd not really be up on everything that's happened in our lives. He wouldnt recognize my daughter, he wouldn't know that we have a new Prime Minister (he might be happy not to know about that one). He wouldn't know about my brother's new job (the fact that my brother finally got a job after years of joblessness). So many things he wouldn't know about. I wish I could just give him a call and an update, to hear his stupidly ridiculous and funny comments on life.
The pain of that part of the loss still takes my breath away. I'm still deeply sad, and can still break into sobs at the drop of a hat, to know that part of my relationship with my dad is over. Forever.
But you never knew which side was going to come through. And if some unforeseen event in my dad's world would set his mood off from the fun loving Peter to the destructive and angry and scared one. We lived, holding our breaths, for decades.
Time to breathe.
My dad was a difficult person. But also a passionate and caring person. He could be a lot of fun, but he was also very very high maintenance.
As the months roll by since his death, in one way I'm starting to feel a lot more peaceful and a lot less stressed out, as there's a definite reduction in "drama" in my life. My dad approached life in an extreme sort of way. Things were perfect, or horrible. People were amazing, or complete idiots. There were few shades of gray in my dad's world.
My dad was also extreme about himself. He had a penchant for self abuse, manifested by addictions to cigarettes, alcohol, and prescription/over the counter medications. I don't doubt that the sudden and shocking heart attack he suffered was due to a long term abuse of some pretty heavy duty tranquilizer medications. I worried for years about his lungs (his mother died of lung cancer and emphysema - she was a long term smoker) about his liver (he drank way too much), about his brain (he had drug tolerance/withdrawal seizures for years). I worried about him getting into an "impaired" accident, having such a strong dependency and a lot of use of a variety of substances. Ironically, I never worried about his heart. And it was a heart attack that killed him. On the downstairs couch, no less. What could be a safer place?
I hate to admit, but my dad's death has created a feeling of peace and relief with respect to his self destructive and dramatic side. I don't have to worry if he's going to fall off the wagon, and hold the rest of the family as emotional hostages. I don't have to put up with his sudden rage-moods, where he'd rant and rave at us, using us as his emotional "venting" receptacles. I don't have to hear about his subtle and not so subtle threats about him hurting himself, or worse. I don't have to hear him rant and rage at me, call me names, insult me (and others) or other painful experiences. That part of my life is over. Forever. And for that I'm grateful.
Don't get me wrong. I loved my dad, despite all his faults.
He had another side. He had a fun side which was equal in intensity to his dark side. He could laugh like nobody else, he had a bizarre, eccentric and "outside the box" sense of humour which was totally and completely in sync with mine. We had a lot of good times, a lot of big laughs. When things were good in our family, they were outstanding. I am often reminded in little ways about the fun things we did - our years as a family in the Air Cadet program, family trips and outings, fun meals and holidays.
I was thinking the other day about the fact that 20 months HAVE passed since his death, and how many new things have happened, that if he was to come back tomorrow he'd not really be up on everything that's happened in our lives. He wouldnt recognize my daughter, he wouldn't know that we have a new Prime Minister (he might be happy not to know about that one). He wouldn't know about my brother's new job (the fact that my brother finally got a job after years of joblessness). So many things he wouldn't know about. I wish I could just give him a call and an update, to hear his stupidly ridiculous and funny comments on life.
The pain of that part of the loss still takes my breath away. I'm still deeply sad, and can still break into sobs at the drop of a hat, to know that part of my relationship with my dad is over. Forever.
But you never knew which side was going to come through. And if some unforeseen event in my dad's world would set his mood off from the fun loving Peter to the destructive and angry and scared one. We lived, holding our breaths, for decades.
Time to breathe.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Holidays and sick babies
So it's the eve of the second of four holiday weekends that we get to celebrate in our home and native land, and my daughter has come down with a bad fever. We were looking forward to just a simple family "play it by ear" weekend, going outside to play, going swimming, going to the park, and now we have a sick toddler on our hands.
She was up and down all last night, very very hot fever. We finally got her settled at about 11pm with some tylenol. She slept through till 6:30 am. She woke up hot. More advil and she finally perked up about 8am.
Her dad stayed home with her today and apparently she was crying inconsolably when she awoke from her nap this morning.
I am here at work, and worried sick. Why is it that we moms just aren't happy when our kids aren't? I've got an event tonight that could be a positive one with respect to networking (I'm looking for a new job) and I just don't want to go. I'm supposed to be doing some "networking" within my department on some other possible positions. But I dont want to call anyone up because I'm so preoccupied with my daughter's health. I don't want to be here. I really just want to be at home, holding and soothing my baby.
I wish we could put the weekend on hold until Abby got over her cold.
She was up and down all last night, very very hot fever. We finally got her settled at about 11pm with some tylenol. She slept through till 6:30 am. She woke up hot. More advil and she finally perked up about 8am.
Her dad stayed home with her today and apparently she was crying inconsolably when she awoke from her nap this morning.
I am here at work, and worried sick. Why is it that we moms just aren't happy when our kids aren't? I've got an event tonight that could be a positive one with respect to networking (I'm looking for a new job) and I just don't want to go. I'm supposed to be doing some "networking" within my department on some other possible positions. But I dont want to call anyone up because I'm so preoccupied with my daughter's health. I don't want to be here. I really just want to be at home, holding and soothing my baby.
I wish we could put the weekend on hold until Abby got over her cold.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Happy.. and sad....
Today is my daughter's second birthday. I can hardly believe it. Two whole years we've survived being new parents, dealing with a lot of really amazing AND difficult milestones. First steps, first bumps on the head, first colds, first teeth, first fevers, first words, many tears, many giggles, many good times too.
I can't believe that things have turned around for me so much, considering everything I've been through since my pregnancy in 2004-05.
I had a very very difficult pregnancy. I gained a TON of weight, and she was a big baby to boot, so I had a very big problem with mobility. Basically everything in my body HURT. I had head cold after head cold at the end of my pregnancy, and I had broken my big toe when I was about 6 1/2 months pregnant. My back and sciatic nerve was chronically pinched, resulting in extreme pain down my back to my tailbone, excruciating groin pain, and itchy, burning feet. I had to go on sick leave for six weeks before her birth as I could no longer sit at a desk without being in extreme agony. The only thing I could do to feel better was to curl up on my side on the couch or in bed. I spent a lot of my pregnancy that way. I'm a pretty active and enthusiastic person, and to be that debilitated did a number on my psychological well being. I felt so trapped and so burdened, it was awful.
Although a day to be happy and celebrate my daughter, as the one who was pregnant and gave birth to her, I can't help thinking about what I was going through two years ago yesterday (Abby was born just after midnight so most of my labour with her was on June 21). It was a difficult, excruciating labour and delivery that left me with a bad case of post traumatic stress disorder and postpartum depression. I won't go into the gory details, but she was a big baby, and needed a lot of time, and a lot of effort for her to get out. It was an "assisted" birth (vacuum) which means her progress out into the world was slow and we needed help.
Because she was so big, she didn't rotate quite right inside me and came out half-sideways, which was extremely painful. I was stuck in the transition stage of labour, which is the most excruciating, for many, many hours, without any pain relief. I remember thinking that I just wanted to die, that I hoped a big nuclear bomb would drop out of the sky and end it for us all. For hours, I struggled with the pain, not knowing that it actually was hours that were passing. I remember struggling with the pain for 3 hours (this part of labour, the "experts" say, should last about 20-40 minutes.. for me, not so lucky - all total it was 7 hours) and then freaking out, and going into a pain-filled haze around 3pm, and finally getting an epidural, and looking up at the clock and it was 7pm. What happened during those those last 4 hours, I will never remember. I felt guilty for a LONG time about wishing that we would die at that time. I have been able to put some distance between that event and I can now understand and have compassion with myself for thinking that. I didnt really want us to die, I simply had long passed my pain capacity.
With the epidural in, relief came immediately. I got to relax for a bit before the marathon 4 hours of pushing started. Nobody in prenatal class ever warns you just how hard the pushing stage is. During that part of labour, I strained my right rotator cuff, which took about a year to heal. I may have also herniated a disc in my back - at some point either during pregnancy or labour I herniated one of my lowermost discs in my back and had painful/numb tailbone, legs and feet that I still suffer from today.
When the birth was over, after going to my hospital room (without my daughter - she had to spend the first night in the NICU on account of being extremely exhausted and running a high temperature) I started having my first "postpartum depression visions" - which were horrible, extremely intense visions of awful, painful injuries and deaths of infants. And in those visions, it was ME who was doing the maiming and killing. I would try and lay down and these visions would flood my mind. I'd be so shocked I'd wake up, sit right up in bed (despite being awake for about 72 hours straight and having just delivered a baby) and my heart would be racing. I'd try to lay down again and just as I was drifting off, BOOM I'd be hit with another vision. It got to the point where I was petrified to go to sleep, and to be alone with her. I pretty much dozed off and on in 20-40 minute increments.
Once I got home, the combination of the postpartum hormone mess, the fatigue and the intensification of the visions resulted in me becoming agoraphobic. I could not leave the house unattended. When I was alone, I could not go outside, I stayed inside all day long with the doors locked. I was petrified to put my daughter in her stroller, or her car seat and take her in the car, or to even hold her (I thought I'd drop her or hurt her). It was all I could do to get through the day.
My parents came up a lot during the summer, I didnt have to be alone too much. The PPD symptoms really were at bay when I was not alone. I actually felt that I just might be able to pull off this whole motherhood thing. But when September came, my mom had to go back to work, and I was really on my own. I remember one morning, literally hanging onto my husbands feet, crying and pleading with him NOT to leave the house, not to leave me alone with the baby, to stay home from work just one more day. He didnt understand my extremely bizarre behaviour, and had to get out, and left me laying on the floor, sobbing.
Fortunately my husband had a sympathetic boss who gave him 2 weeks of extra paid leave, and we had a vacation coming up, so he was able to stay with me the entire month of September. I dreaded the thought of him going back to work in October.
At that point I knew I'd really benefit from some decent sleep. I had a few extra sleeping pills in the medicine cabinet from years ago, At least at night, I could get some relief as the medication choked off the anxiety for several hours at a time to enable me to sleep. Unfortunately this prevented me from getting up with Abby at night to feed her. I hate to admit but my husband was more of a "mom" to Abby than I was. I still feel guilt and shame to this day that I could not function as a "real mom" would, being up at night to tend to her offspring. But I just physically and emotionally couldn't cope with any more sleep deprivation.
During that time, I also had fantasies of getting in my car, and driving as far away from Ottawa as I could. I figured I could be in Toronto by the end of the day, Northern Ontario by the next day, and Calgary by the end of the week. I wanted to just keep driving until I hit the Pacific Ocean. I believed that my family would have been much better off without me, that I had made a huge mistake, and that I was just not capable of being a wife and mother.
Little did I know at the time that these were all the classic symptoms of postpartum depression.
The desire to run away, the visions, the anxiety and and the complete collapse of confidence, some experts say, is a subconscious brain-stem reaction to a difficult birth. The visions are apparently the "fight" response from one's rudimentary brain trying to subconsciously strike-back at the object that it thinks caused the body pain - the baby. The desire to run away is the other side of the classic "flight or fight" reaction - the flight.
These reactions are subconcious - they are generated completely out of the conscious part of the brain. When they enter the realm of the conscious and rational part of the brain, they are extremely disturbing (to put it mildly).
PPD was a difficult experience indeed, but it was a piece of cake compared to what happened later on - the loss of my father, the excruciating episodes of gallstones, surgery.... on the work front, the transfer of my position to a new branch and massive change in my work life was not even on the horizon - I'm still dealing with the emotional aftermath of that one. I loved the job that I had when I left on mat leave, and I can't do it anymore. Those of us who were transferred were shunned by the rest of the group (probably under the illogical assumption of "If it can happen to them, it can happen to us, right?") as well, there's been a lot of ridiculous made-up horse-trading of responsibilities that have removed the more interesting work from our mandate, and replaced it with tedious and uninteresting administrative work.
I know, I know I should be thinking about my daughter today, and how great she is. And she is. She's amazing. She's the best thing that ever happened to me. This morning we woke up and we sang Happy Birthday to you and she danced around the kitchen. And asked for us to sing "AGAIN!!" and "AGAIN!!" while grinning like a fool. I think she's the funniest kid on the planet and I'm so happy that she came into my life. I wish her entry into this world had been a bit easier, but you take what you get.
Today I have so many mixed feelings. Gratefulness, appreciation, relief, happiness, but I still can't shake the wiggly wobblies I'm feeling about how hard things were last year at this time. And how much worse things were to come. I'm glad I don't have the ability to see the future. Had I seen that whole storm coming, I don't know what I'd have done.
One thing I've learned from this experience is that the saying "at least you have your health" is really true. There's little worse in the world then being incapacitated, sick (mentally or otherwise). I'm so happy to be re-finding myself after years of illness and grief. What's been prseented to me (my family and my life) is so amazing, I seem to be learning day by day to appreciate the moments, and not take anything for granted. Losing my father four months after Abby's birth really hit home how short our lives are, and to appreciate, it, for someday, for ALL of us, our souls will have to leave the planet. Our childhoods, young adulthoods, middle age, and old age (if we are lucky enough to get to all of those stages) are full of amazing experiences that we should all be open enough to experience and enjoy. Life is linear - you don't get a chance to do those things that you have the opportunity to do NOW.
Happy second birthday baby. Mommy's here. And despite it all, I'm happier than ever!
And.. it will soon be CAKE TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHOOOOPEEEEEEEE! Happy to you CAAAAKE!!
I can't believe that things have turned around for me so much, considering everything I've been through since my pregnancy in 2004-05.
I had a very very difficult pregnancy. I gained a TON of weight, and she was a big baby to boot, so I had a very big problem with mobility. Basically everything in my body HURT. I had head cold after head cold at the end of my pregnancy, and I had broken my big toe when I was about 6 1/2 months pregnant. My back and sciatic nerve was chronically pinched, resulting in extreme pain down my back to my tailbone, excruciating groin pain, and itchy, burning feet. I had to go on sick leave for six weeks before her birth as I could no longer sit at a desk without being in extreme agony. The only thing I could do to feel better was to curl up on my side on the couch or in bed. I spent a lot of my pregnancy that way. I'm a pretty active and enthusiastic person, and to be that debilitated did a number on my psychological well being. I felt so trapped and so burdened, it was awful.
Although a day to be happy and celebrate my daughter, as the one who was pregnant and gave birth to her, I can't help thinking about what I was going through two years ago yesterday (Abby was born just after midnight so most of my labour with her was on June 21). It was a difficult, excruciating labour and delivery that left me with a bad case of post traumatic stress disorder and postpartum depression. I won't go into the gory details, but she was a big baby, and needed a lot of time, and a lot of effort for her to get out. It was an "assisted" birth (vacuum) which means her progress out into the world was slow and we needed help.
Because she was so big, she didn't rotate quite right inside me and came out half-sideways, which was extremely painful. I was stuck in the transition stage of labour, which is the most excruciating, for many, many hours, without any pain relief. I remember thinking that I just wanted to die, that I hoped a big nuclear bomb would drop out of the sky and end it for us all. For hours, I struggled with the pain, not knowing that it actually was hours that were passing. I remember struggling with the pain for 3 hours (this part of labour, the "experts" say, should last about 20-40 minutes.. for me, not so lucky - all total it was 7 hours) and then freaking out, and going into a pain-filled haze around 3pm, and finally getting an epidural, and looking up at the clock and it was 7pm. What happened during those those last 4 hours, I will never remember. I felt guilty for a LONG time about wishing that we would die at that time. I have been able to put some distance between that event and I can now understand and have compassion with myself for thinking that. I didnt really want us to die, I simply had long passed my pain capacity.
With the epidural in, relief came immediately. I got to relax for a bit before the marathon 4 hours of pushing started. Nobody in prenatal class ever warns you just how hard the pushing stage is. During that part of labour, I strained my right rotator cuff, which took about a year to heal. I may have also herniated a disc in my back - at some point either during pregnancy or labour I herniated one of my lowermost discs in my back and had painful/numb tailbone, legs and feet that I still suffer from today.
When the birth was over, after going to my hospital room (without my daughter - she had to spend the first night in the NICU on account of being extremely exhausted and running a high temperature) I started having my first "postpartum depression visions" - which were horrible, extremely intense visions of awful, painful injuries and deaths of infants. And in those visions, it was ME who was doing the maiming and killing. I would try and lay down and these visions would flood my mind. I'd be so shocked I'd wake up, sit right up in bed (despite being awake for about 72 hours straight and having just delivered a baby) and my heart would be racing. I'd try to lay down again and just as I was drifting off, BOOM I'd be hit with another vision. It got to the point where I was petrified to go to sleep, and to be alone with her. I pretty much dozed off and on in 20-40 minute increments.
Once I got home, the combination of the postpartum hormone mess, the fatigue and the intensification of the visions resulted in me becoming agoraphobic. I could not leave the house unattended. When I was alone, I could not go outside, I stayed inside all day long with the doors locked. I was petrified to put my daughter in her stroller, or her car seat and take her in the car, or to even hold her (I thought I'd drop her or hurt her). It was all I could do to get through the day.
My parents came up a lot during the summer, I didnt have to be alone too much. The PPD symptoms really were at bay when I was not alone. I actually felt that I just might be able to pull off this whole motherhood thing. But when September came, my mom had to go back to work, and I was really on my own. I remember one morning, literally hanging onto my husbands feet, crying and pleading with him NOT to leave the house, not to leave me alone with the baby, to stay home from work just one more day. He didnt understand my extremely bizarre behaviour, and had to get out, and left me laying on the floor, sobbing.
Fortunately my husband had a sympathetic boss who gave him 2 weeks of extra paid leave, and we had a vacation coming up, so he was able to stay with me the entire month of September. I dreaded the thought of him going back to work in October.
At that point I knew I'd really benefit from some decent sleep. I had a few extra sleeping pills in the medicine cabinet from years ago, At least at night, I could get some relief as the medication choked off the anxiety for several hours at a time to enable me to sleep. Unfortunately this prevented me from getting up with Abby at night to feed her. I hate to admit but my husband was more of a "mom" to Abby than I was. I still feel guilt and shame to this day that I could not function as a "real mom" would, being up at night to tend to her offspring. But I just physically and emotionally couldn't cope with any more sleep deprivation.
During that time, I also had fantasies of getting in my car, and driving as far away from Ottawa as I could. I figured I could be in Toronto by the end of the day, Northern Ontario by the next day, and Calgary by the end of the week. I wanted to just keep driving until I hit the Pacific Ocean. I believed that my family would have been much better off without me, that I had made a huge mistake, and that I was just not capable of being a wife and mother.
Little did I know at the time that these were all the classic symptoms of postpartum depression.
The desire to run away, the visions, the anxiety and and the complete collapse of confidence, some experts say, is a subconscious brain-stem reaction to a difficult birth. The visions are apparently the "fight" response from one's rudimentary brain trying to subconsciously strike-back at the object that it thinks caused the body pain - the baby. The desire to run away is the other side of the classic "flight or fight" reaction - the flight.
These reactions are subconcious - they are generated completely out of the conscious part of the brain. When they enter the realm of the conscious and rational part of the brain, they are extremely disturbing (to put it mildly).
PPD was a difficult experience indeed, but it was a piece of cake compared to what happened later on - the loss of my father, the excruciating episodes of gallstones, surgery.... on the work front, the transfer of my position to a new branch and massive change in my work life was not even on the horizon - I'm still dealing with the emotional aftermath of that one. I loved the job that I had when I left on mat leave, and I can't do it anymore. Those of us who were transferred were shunned by the rest of the group (probably under the illogical assumption of "If it can happen to them, it can happen to us, right?") as well, there's been a lot of ridiculous made-up horse-trading of responsibilities that have removed the more interesting work from our mandate, and replaced it with tedious and uninteresting administrative work.
I know, I know I should be thinking about my daughter today, and how great she is. And she is. She's amazing. She's the best thing that ever happened to me. This morning we woke up and we sang Happy Birthday to you and she danced around the kitchen. And asked for us to sing "AGAIN!!" and "AGAIN!!" while grinning like a fool. I think she's the funniest kid on the planet and I'm so happy that she came into my life. I wish her entry into this world had been a bit easier, but you take what you get.
Today I have so many mixed feelings. Gratefulness, appreciation, relief, happiness, but I still can't shake the wiggly wobblies I'm feeling about how hard things were last year at this time. And how much worse things were to come. I'm glad I don't have the ability to see the future. Had I seen that whole storm coming, I don't know what I'd have done.
One thing I've learned from this experience is that the saying "at least you have your health" is really true. There's little worse in the world then being incapacitated, sick (mentally or otherwise). I'm so happy to be re-finding myself after years of illness and grief. What's been prseented to me (my family and my life) is so amazing, I seem to be learning day by day to appreciate the moments, and not take anything for granted. Losing my father four months after Abby's birth really hit home how short our lives are, and to appreciate, it, for someday, for ALL of us, our souls will have to leave the planet. Our childhoods, young adulthoods, middle age, and old age (if we are lucky enough to get to all of those stages) are full of amazing experiences that we should all be open enough to experience and enjoy. Life is linear - you don't get a chance to do those things that you have the opportunity to do NOW.
Happy second birthday baby. Mommy's here. And despite it all, I'm happier than ever!
And.. it will soon be CAKE TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHOOOOPEEEEEEEE! Happy to you CAAAAKE!!
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Jinx :(
I was awake from 1am till 5am.... am supremely tired again.
Blast it all. I should not have focussed any attention on it.
Grr.
Blast it all. I should not have focussed any attention on it.
Grr.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Psst! don't tell anyone!
I've slept 7 to 8 hours STRAIGHT THROUGH the past two nights!!
Don't tell anyone.. you might jinx it!
Don't tell anyone.. you might jinx it!
Monday, June 18, 2007
Happy Father's day... wherever you are...
Yesterday was Father's Day. The second Father's Day I've experienced since my dad died in 2005. I had a hard time with it. Not quite as bad as last year's Father's Day, but it was pretty hard nonetheless.
Sunday started out wonderfully, I was at my in-laws, there were 3 fathers in the room, and the happiness and warmth of the family atmosphere was great. Of course I thought a lot about my own father, because my in-laws live just down the street from the house that my family owned during most of the 1970's. That neighbourhood and that street hold a lot of memories. The deck and shed that my dad built is still in the backyard of our old house. I have a hard time being on that street, in that neighbourhood without breaking down.
Just after my dad died, I managed to peek in our old backyard, and walk the old routes in the neighbourhood. I am glad I walked it alone as I broke down at one point and sobbed and sobbed on my old front lawn one night during a huge rainstorm. the next day, I went to the mall where my dad owned two stores, and sat in front of what was our old store (Living Lighting) and shook and cried.
Back to yesterday. On the way back home from Belleville, we had to stop several times to change my daughter. She had a really upset stomach and had to "poopy" several times. During one of the change stops, I sat in the car while my husband changed my daughter's poopy diaper on a picnic table. I flicked on the radio to hear the end of the song "Dust in the Wind" on the radio. Of course that song reminds everyone of major life changes, loss, and that our life on this planet is only so long. Following that song, was "Wild Eyes" by the Stampeders. That one REALLY threw me for a loop. Most 70's songs, but especially Stampeders songs REALLY bring back my childhood. A time when my brother and I would roam freely around the backseat of our 1970's Dodge Dart while my dad blasted down the 401, wind flying in the window, cigarette ashes blowing everywhere (who knew about health and safety issues for kids then??).
My dad was definitely a free spirit. He was a great looking guy with a lot of charisma and energy. In the 1970's I only looked at him with stars in my eyes, he was the coolest dad on the planet, and I was so proud to have been his little "Boomer". The cracks in his personality and mental health had not quite opened up into the years of painful addiction, anxiety and depression that were to come. In my world, in the mid 1970's, all was well. All was perfect.
Happy Father's Day Doots.. wherever you are.
Sunday started out wonderfully, I was at my in-laws, there were 3 fathers in the room, and the happiness and warmth of the family atmosphere was great. Of course I thought a lot about my own father, because my in-laws live just down the street from the house that my family owned during most of the 1970's. That neighbourhood and that street hold a lot of memories. The deck and shed that my dad built is still in the backyard of our old house. I have a hard time being on that street, in that neighbourhood without breaking down.
Just after my dad died, I managed to peek in our old backyard, and walk the old routes in the neighbourhood. I am glad I walked it alone as I broke down at one point and sobbed and sobbed on my old front lawn one night during a huge rainstorm. the next day, I went to the mall where my dad owned two stores, and sat in front of what was our old store (Living Lighting) and shook and cried.
Back to yesterday. On the way back home from Belleville, we had to stop several times to change my daughter. She had a really upset stomach and had to "poopy" several times. During one of the change stops, I sat in the car while my husband changed my daughter's poopy diaper on a picnic table. I flicked on the radio to hear the end of the song "Dust in the Wind" on the radio. Of course that song reminds everyone of major life changes, loss, and that our life on this planet is only so long. Following that song, was "Wild Eyes" by the Stampeders. That one REALLY threw me for a loop. Most 70's songs, but especially Stampeders songs REALLY bring back my childhood. A time when my brother and I would roam freely around the backseat of our 1970's Dodge Dart while my dad blasted down the 401, wind flying in the window, cigarette ashes blowing everywhere (who knew about health and safety issues for kids then??).
My dad was definitely a free spirit. He was a great looking guy with a lot of charisma and energy. In the 1970's I only looked at him with stars in my eyes, he was the coolest dad on the planet, and I was so proud to have been his little "Boomer". The cracks in his personality and mental health had not quite opened up into the years of painful addiction, anxiety and depression that were to come. In my world, in the mid 1970's, all was well. All was perfect.
Happy Father's Day Doots.. wherever you are.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
I'm still a strange sleeper
I've recently taken to falling asleep upstairs in the master suite and then going downstairs to sleep later on. I feel really anxious when I fall asleep upstairs, I dont fall asleep deeply or for long. I still live in fear of being woken up, by either my husband (mister restless sleeper and snorer extrordinaire) or by my child.
When Abby was first born, I had a hard time getting used to dealing with a crying baby. I will totally admit that. It always seemed that I was just settling down to sleep when BOOM she'd be up, crying for food. I was so tired it was torture. I'm still getting over that. Despite the fact that I really want another baby, that whole lack of sleep thing is the number one thing that's scaring us from trying for baby number two.
The thought of Abby waking me up in the middle of the night still fills me with horror. I'm such a light sleeper, once I've been woken up, I'm up. Even if it's 3am. That's it, thats all. I'm done for the night. Ok well maybe I'm done until 7am, when its time to get up. Since I"m now back at work, so an afternoon nap is out of the question, unless I can find a way to build myself a bed under my desk a la George Costanza.
I have phoned in sick on many an occasion to just stay home and sleep. But that generally messes up my circadian rhythym even more, and I sleep even crappier the next night.
I should be proud of myself that at least I'm sleeping now, medication free. But I've still got to tackle that last step, moving upstairs permanently. I stil have such sleep-performance-anxiety, its awful. I put so much pressure on myself to sleep, it's bizarre. I wish I could figure out how to stop doing that to myself.
This insomnia routine is like a big heavy weight on my shoulders, holding me down. I've struggled with insomnia and parasomnia for two decades now. Its the bane of my existence. This level of ongoing, crushing fatigue saps my creativity, crushes my mood, and destroys my sense of initiative.
I'm so exhausted most days, I swear I could fall asleep in front of any TV show, music blaring, but put me in a quiet, dark bedroom, and ZZZZZTT!! my head is spinning, anxiety ruling the day.
I've been to so many doctors, clinics, tried this diet and that, avoided caffeine, sugar, wheat, carbs, tried this and that medication, and nothing really seems to work for long.
Strange sleep indeed.
When Abby was first born, I had a hard time getting used to dealing with a crying baby. I will totally admit that. It always seemed that I was just settling down to sleep when BOOM she'd be up, crying for food. I was so tired it was torture. I'm still getting over that. Despite the fact that I really want another baby, that whole lack of sleep thing is the number one thing that's scaring us from trying for baby number two.
The thought of Abby waking me up in the middle of the night still fills me with horror. I'm such a light sleeper, once I've been woken up, I'm up. Even if it's 3am. That's it, thats all. I'm done for the night. Ok well maybe I'm done until 7am, when its time to get up. Since I"m now back at work, so an afternoon nap is out of the question, unless I can find a way to build myself a bed under my desk a la George Costanza.
I have phoned in sick on many an occasion to just stay home and sleep. But that generally messes up my circadian rhythym even more, and I sleep even crappier the next night.
I should be proud of myself that at least I'm sleeping now, medication free. But I've still got to tackle that last step, moving upstairs permanently. I stil have such sleep-performance-anxiety, its awful. I put so much pressure on myself to sleep, it's bizarre. I wish I could figure out how to stop doing that to myself.
This insomnia routine is like a big heavy weight on my shoulders, holding me down. I've struggled with insomnia and parasomnia for two decades now. Its the bane of my existence. This level of ongoing, crushing fatigue saps my creativity, crushes my mood, and destroys my sense of initiative.
I'm so exhausted most days, I swear I could fall asleep in front of any TV show, music blaring, but put me in a quiet, dark bedroom, and ZZZZZTT!! my head is spinning, anxiety ruling the day.
I've been to so many doctors, clinics, tried this diet and that, avoided caffeine, sugar, wheat, carbs, tried this and that medication, and nothing really seems to work for long.
Strange sleep indeed.
Giant moth and other things to poke at
This morning a giant enormous moth was on our front step. This sucker was the size of the back of my hand. It was black and white and mottly, and was the shape of a Vulcan Bomber aircraft (really cool aircraft from my childhood). If anyone knows the species, let me know. I've been looking off and on all morning and can't find a good identification.
We let Abby out to see the moth and she was excited to see it, then proceeded to poke it REALLY hard. Its wings went from a delta shape to more of a wide triangle. It was obviously annoyed. I figured she'd probably want to crush it so I moved it onto a shrub for its own safety. When we left for work/daycare half an hour later it was gone.
Abby's really into smashing and crushing things lately. Yesterday at the grocery store I bought some tomatoes - she said "oooh! Tomatoes!! SMUSH THEM!!"
Nice......
So much for sugar and spice! My daughter is anything but a little lady (most of the time). She cracks me up.
We let Abby out to see the moth and she was excited to see it, then proceeded to poke it REALLY hard. Its wings went from a delta shape to more of a wide triangle. It was obviously annoyed. I figured she'd probably want to crush it so I moved it onto a shrub for its own safety. When we left for work/daycare half an hour later it was gone.
Abby's really into smashing and crushing things lately. Yesterday at the grocery store I bought some tomatoes - she said "oooh! Tomatoes!! SMUSH THEM!!"
Nice......
So much for sugar and spice! My daughter is anything but a little lady (most of the time). She cracks me up.
Saturday, June 09, 2007
My kid is hilarious
My almost two year old daughter is simply.. hilarious.
She has a totally unique and wacky view of life.. and is not afraid or shy to let you know.
She is big enough now to be able to see out the car window as we are driving. She loves seeing things and making editorial comment on just about everything we drive by.
Like many other little kids, construction sites and heavy equipment are totally thrilling. And dirt is definitely her element of choice.
We were driving by a construction site, with a front end loader (she calls them "diggers") and a pile of dirt. She yells out:
"Digger!! Dirt pile!! OOOOO!! CHOCOLATE dirt pile! Bye digger! Bye Chocolate dirt pile!"
My husband and I were laughing so hard, he could barely drive.
And the other day, while driving home we also heard this little one:
"Daddy is... Claccy... Mummy is... Patty"
How did she know our names?? Not only is my kid hilarious, she's so smart. She seems to retain just about everything that she hears. Its fun, but also insanely scary. The way I have to watch everything I do now is pretty intense sometimes. I've never been that out of control, but sometimes I had a propensity to curse like a sailor. So far, no slips. Wheew. I'm sure that will change someday, but so far, we're doing well.
So much to think about. When Abby was first born, I simply could not handle it. I was too physically and mentally exhausted from my difficult pregnancy, and the strains my life was under at the time. I was also insanely sick from gall bladder disease (surgery several months later). When my dad died four months later, I could barely cope. I had no idea how i would manage.
Now I am so excited to see my daughter, to play with her, to hear her witty commentary on everything. I was so afraid of the "terrible twos" - but other than an extremely strong willed streak that can still be managed by "diversion", and some exceptional crustiness around dinner time (hungry and tired = not a good situation for toddlers) she's pretty good. She has redeemed my faith in toddlerdom.
And she's about to wake up. She's the cutest little pod when she gets up. All curly hair, bleary eyes.
Woot. She's up.
"ByeSeeyasoon!" (another Abby-ism)
She has a totally unique and wacky view of life.. and is not afraid or shy to let you know.
She is big enough now to be able to see out the car window as we are driving. She loves seeing things and making editorial comment on just about everything we drive by.
Like many other little kids, construction sites and heavy equipment are totally thrilling. And dirt is definitely her element of choice.
We were driving by a construction site, with a front end loader (she calls them "diggers") and a pile of dirt. She yells out:
"Digger!! Dirt pile!! OOOOO!! CHOCOLATE dirt pile! Bye digger! Bye Chocolate dirt pile!"
My husband and I were laughing so hard, he could barely drive.
And the other day, while driving home we also heard this little one:
"Daddy is... Claccy... Mummy is... Patty"
How did she know our names?? Not only is my kid hilarious, she's so smart. She seems to retain just about everything that she hears. Its fun, but also insanely scary. The way I have to watch everything I do now is pretty intense sometimes. I've never been that out of control, but sometimes I had a propensity to curse like a sailor. So far, no slips. Wheew. I'm sure that will change someday, but so far, we're doing well.
So much to think about. When Abby was first born, I simply could not handle it. I was too physically and mentally exhausted from my difficult pregnancy, and the strains my life was under at the time. I was also insanely sick from gall bladder disease (surgery several months later). When my dad died four months later, I could barely cope. I had no idea how i would manage.
Now I am so excited to see my daughter, to play with her, to hear her witty commentary on everything. I was so afraid of the "terrible twos" - but other than an extremely strong willed streak that can still be managed by "diversion", and some exceptional crustiness around dinner time (hungry and tired = not a good situation for toddlers) she's pretty good. She has redeemed my faith in toddlerdom.
And she's about to wake up. She's the cutest little pod when she gets up. All curly hair, bleary eyes.
Woot. She's up.
"ByeSeeyasoon!" (another Abby-ism)
Monday, May 28, 2007
Churcheesus
My daughter's new favourite word is:
Churcheesus.
We were on our way to a party at the home of a family that runs the Church nursery last night, and we were telling her all about the party, that these people are from Church, the nursery people.... "Abby? Remember little Joey at Church? Well we're going to Joey's house!"
On the way to "Joey's house" she came out with the word:
"Churcheesus".
Abby loves Church, Abby loves Jesus, so I guess in her stage of learning language, she decided to combine the two, just as she did for her other new word "basu-shan" (short for Basil-Parmesan - a wonderful new salad dressing from President's Choice).
Now before you think that my daughter is a super spiritual two year old, remember Church also has a nursery full of kids and toys to play with. And when you actually ask my daughter "do you like Church"? She responds:
Yes!
Toys!
Jesus!
Its refreshing to see that for a two year old, Church and faith is not about discipline, or ethical dilemmas, as my faith had been for me since I entered my teenage years. I stopped going to Church once I left home in the 1980's as I just couldn't see how it could possibly relate to my life. I had so many issues and concerns I felt like a hypocrite attending Mass. I started going again when I turned 30, as my life had hit an all time low. I had just broken up with my live-in boyfriend of 5 years, had no job, no income and nowhere to live. I moved in with my brother and lived on his couch for 7 months as I tried to sort out my life. At that time, I started going to the Church that I still attend - Blessed Sacrament. Since that time, faith has been all about finding a way to wrestle with crushing loss and pain. It's not been easy, but it's really been a life saver for me. I'm glad my parents pushed me to go to church and to Catholic school. Without that, I'm sure I'd be completely lost today.
However, for my two year old child, Church is just about the toys. And the kids. And the cool picture of Jesus on the wall of the playroom.
But maybe she's on to something. God does speak to us through our children. Shouldn't our faith just really be about bringing us joy?
And despite my overwhelming pain and difficulties these past few years, I have had moments of joy brought to me by faith. Knowing that our time here on earth is just a blip and we WILL be reunited with our lost loved ones someday. That our pain and our struggle here on earth WILL end someday. And also that being here on earth really is a gift - a temporary gift of exploring all that is beautiful and wonderful on this planet. And there really are some amazing things here.
Churcheesus.
We were on our way to a party at the home of a family that runs the Church nursery last night, and we were telling her all about the party, that these people are from Church, the nursery people.... "Abby? Remember little Joey at Church? Well we're going to Joey's house!"
On the way to "Joey's house" she came out with the word:
"Churcheesus".
Abby loves Church, Abby loves Jesus, so I guess in her stage of learning language, she decided to combine the two, just as she did for her other new word "basu-shan" (short for Basil-Parmesan - a wonderful new salad dressing from President's Choice).
Now before you think that my daughter is a super spiritual two year old, remember Church also has a nursery full of kids and toys to play with. And when you actually ask my daughter "do you like Church"? She responds:
Yes!
Toys!
Jesus!
Its refreshing to see that for a two year old, Church and faith is not about discipline, or ethical dilemmas, as my faith had been for me since I entered my teenage years. I stopped going to Church once I left home in the 1980's as I just couldn't see how it could possibly relate to my life. I had so many issues and concerns I felt like a hypocrite attending Mass. I started going again when I turned 30, as my life had hit an all time low. I had just broken up with my live-in boyfriend of 5 years, had no job, no income and nowhere to live. I moved in with my brother and lived on his couch for 7 months as I tried to sort out my life. At that time, I started going to the Church that I still attend - Blessed Sacrament. Since that time, faith has been all about finding a way to wrestle with crushing loss and pain. It's not been easy, but it's really been a life saver for me. I'm glad my parents pushed me to go to church and to Catholic school. Without that, I'm sure I'd be completely lost today.
However, for my two year old child, Church is just about the toys. And the kids. And the cool picture of Jesus on the wall of the playroom.
But maybe she's on to something. God does speak to us through our children. Shouldn't our faith just really be about bringing us joy?
And despite my overwhelming pain and difficulties these past few years, I have had moments of joy brought to me by faith. Knowing that our time here on earth is just a blip and we WILL be reunited with our lost loved ones someday. That our pain and our struggle here on earth WILL end someday. And also that being here on earth really is a gift - a temporary gift of exploring all that is beautiful and wonderful on this planet. And there really are some amazing things here.
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