My Cinderella Man

Though the last couple of weeks have been a challenge for me physically, this time has also been like heaven.  When bringing a brand new baby home life can be helter skelter.  Routines don't seem to exist anymore.  The goals we set out to accomplish get forgotten.  With the birth of our new little songbird, a time warp was engaged.  Time stood still (especially that last little bit of labor and delivery).  The first moment I set my eyes on our baby girl thrust me into the moment, the present.  I was exhausted, thankful with the relief of no longer being in pain.  But, all of that became a side issue, like a dust bunny in the corner.  There she was, an intimate partner in life, yet a stranger as well.  She was beautiful.  Still is.  And cute as all get out.  

With DJ by my side holding our Songbird, the nurses and doctor worked on me to keep me from saying good-bye to this world.  Things in the room began to get fuzzy like an old black and white TV, and my ears started to ring and the sounds in the room were as if they were filtered with cotton in my ears.  I lost too much blood.  All the while my man stood by me like a sentry, quiet, gentle, yet a very strong presence that I could hold onto.  During this time of rushed activity around me, I felt at peace.  I felt calm.  In the background I could hear him speak to our little girl, comforting her and letting her know that she was so very welcome in this world.  I couldn't hear exactly what he was saying.  I just heard his voice.  And two of us in that room were comforted with the warmth of his voice.

At home, DJ insisted that I lay on the couch.  He would do all the other chores.  My job was to get better, to recuperate, to rebuild my strength, and nourish our little hatchling.  All the cooking, cleaning, laundry, dishes, errands, and chores...of any kind....were done by my Cinderella Man.  My slightest wish was his command.  He wouldn't let me do anything, and demanded that I obey him for once.  I agreed.  I felt like I had been hit by a truck. With the pain in my sacrum and tailbone, getting off of the couch took me about a minute's worth of effort and groaning before I could stand upright.  I was also out of breath when walking from room to room due to a very low hemoglobin.  So, Cinderella Man did it all. 

We have been using cloth diapers because our little one broke out in a terrible, painful rash from paper diapers.  We even tried the pure and natural, organic paper diapers.  The moment we took the disposable diaper off of her one night it was as if peace descended upon the earth.  She immediately quit crying.  We have used cloth diapers since.  This means my Cinderella Man has been rinsing, washing, drying and folding diapers.  You would be amazed at how many diapers a little wee one can go through at this age.  Those disposable ones are deceiving.  In the beginning, while trying to learn our little songbird's sleep, wake, and diapering patterns, Cinderella Man would wash diapers three times a day, along with our other laundry.

For some reason, the dishes seemed to multiply by the number of diapers that also needed to be washed.  DJ would do dishes multiple times during the day.  We don't have a dishwasher.  So, all those dishes were done in the sink by my Cinderella Man, who also did the cooking.  He would cook me three square meals a day.  Make tea for me, fill up my water bottle, and take care of TJ as well.  When I needed to sleep, DJ would hold our beautiful Songbird and entertain our amazing four year old.

Just now, as I was nursing our little bundle of cuteness and joy, I had a coughing fit which is extremely painful due to the injury to my lower spine.  I called out to DJ for something wet and quick!  He ran to the freezer and pulled out my water bottle and rushed it to me.  At some point this morning,  DJ had put my water bottle in the freezer.  He knows that my preference is to drink cold water instead of room temperature water.  He did this for me without me knowing it.

DJ does so many things for me through out the day.  I can't even name all of them.  But, what is more impressive is his attitude while doing all that he does.  He demands that I take this treatment from him, this selfless service, so that I can heal, so that I can be the person I am truly meant to be, one at peace, joy, and in love.     Thank you, Cinderella Man!  I love you so much!  I cannot imagine life without you!

Overdue

Yesterday, January 5th, was my due date.  BUT, today is the one week anniversary of our little baby Bluebird.  At 6.35pm she made her appearance.  She is incredibly beautiful.  I would say that even if she was someone else's baby.  She weighed in at 8 pounds 11.8 ounces, and was 20 inches long.  She has a head full of black hair.  Well, it has been quite a week for us here at the House of J.  I will write more later as I have energy.  I just wanted to get something posted  before my new resolution to start blogging again wanes or gets side-tracked. 

Big pain in the ......

The gentle descent of the snow, its glittering sparkles covering every surface of the beautiful outdoors, momentarily takes my mind off of my aches and pains.  Man, am I sore!  About not having a broken tailbone...I am rethinking that one.  It takes me about 30 seconds to stand up just from the pain in my backside.  There isn't anything anyone can do about it.  The doctor can't x-ray me being that I am pregnant. And I REFUSE any exam of my derriere.  I had one of those in 9th grade with my mother watching.  Nope.  That was the only and LAST time anyone would get the chance to examine my tailbone.  Yes, this doggone tailbone keeps biting me in the butt.  Twice in 9th grade I biffed it, landing directly on that little triangular bone at the end of my spine.  The doctor ordered a "donut" for me to carry with me to every class so that I may sit down.  How cool.  I only did that for one day.  The rest of my recovery was spent sitting on one bent leg or the other.  Just in case you have never seen a "donut".... It looks like a cushy, white toilet seat.  No flowers, no cool logos, or prints.  Now that you have the picture in your mind you can imagine how cool it is for a 9th grader to carry that everywhere.  Bet you want one now, don't you? 

Some years later, as I mentioned in an earlier post, my little tailbone, which is a big pain in the ...., was broken again while bringing my precious, and incredibly beautiful daughter into this world.  Plus my practitioner stitched me up in an unnecessary fashion which produced pain for years until my next baby was delivered.  So, for months, I felt decrepit, trying to sit down, get up, walk around, caring for a newborn baby while dealing with things you just don't talk about to other people.  I went to my practitioner once to be re-examined.  She said everything was fine.  I really didn't feel listened to, but hadn't learned that when it comes to doctors that gumption is highly useful.  Being 22 years old, what did I know?  And who could I talk to?  At that time in my life, I was unaware that talking to other women, and finding a support group was highly beneficial emotionally, mentally, and even physically.

But, where was I?  Oh yes, being hit by a truck....Well, that's what it feels like.  It is a day and a half since I scared my husband nearly to death by banging a beat down the stairs.  He opened the door to the stairway as I stood up on one of the last steps, asking me if I was ok.  My little four year old was there as well.  Both of them looking at me like I really had come back from the dead or that I was truly an alien descended from the starry sky.  Two pairs of eyes, wide open to match their mouths, stared at me incredulously.  I think they expected me to look more like a Picasso painting than the same nine-months pregnant woman that they knew before.  Yes, I was recognizable  I think that is why God makes a woman so puffy at the end of her pregnancy.  He knows how unsteady we are on our feet.  So, He built a ready made cushion by making her body retain extra water and fat to cushion the blows say, for instance, should she fall down a flight of stairs, or off of a curb, or bending over to tie her shoes....and of course to provide nourishment for her and the baby after the birth. 

Now, that I am nursing all my aches and pains from the fall I can't decide which would be better, to recover a little more from my bumps and bruises before birthing our girl into this world, or getting it over and done with so that I can recover from my bumps and bruises.  Most of the time now, I just pray, "God help me".

... My Butt!

Welllll, my butt hurts.  I fell down the stairs last night after taking a much needed nap.  Being nine months pregnant doesn't help with anything other than looking and feeling nine months pregnant.  And my butt hurts.  With my first baby, who was also my smallest, I broke my tailbone pushing her out.  She was "sunny-side-up", or in a posterior presentation where the back of her head, instead of her face, was pressed against my sacrum and ... my tailbone.  I believe she came out so fast that her cute, little head just snapped that tiny, little bone in my butt.  I couldn't sit normally, without a ton of pain, for at least 2 years, no kidding.  The painful result of landing on my tailbone last night as I made my accelerated decent down the stairs instantly reminded me of my experience on Mother's Day 18.5 years ago.  Either my pain tolerance has gone up quite a bit, or I didn't break my tailbone.  And I think this is just my fancy way of complaining, just a little bit, about my misfortune. 

I am tired of just about all the discomforts of pregnancy.  I have been trying to keep my focus on the positive, incredible, and sacred aspects of bringing this soul to this side of life, to bring her earth bound for whatever lay ahead for her Journey. My feet, ankles, and generally every part of my body is swollen and puffy. This happens with every pregnancy.  It is just at the end that really gets to me.  God has designed pregnancy to prepare us mothers for the birth.  Right?  Ah, mostly, it is a state of mind.  I have been trying to enjoy the presence of our little girl right where she is.  Our plan is that this will be our last pregnancy.  This will be the last time in my lifetime to feel this state of being, to feel this relationship between my body and that of my child's. So, I have been trying to memorize these last moments before her birth.  Redirecting my thoughts, I have been focusing on being the portal between heaven and earth.  What an incredible job!  What a sacred position to stand in that exact spot where a soul crosses over from heaven, from the heart of God, to begin a Journey, an adventure, here on earth. Then I revert back to, "God, please help my poor aching butt!"

The desire for Presents and Presence on this Christmas Day!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Brrrrr!  It is a supremely cold morning.  The dogs gave us that clue when they decided not to be disobedient to our calls and instead ran straight for the dog house to wait to be let into the warm, cozy porch.  On this very cold wintery morning, we wait.  We wait to open presents.  We wait for my daughter to get back from work so that we can open presents.  We wait for my other daughter for the arrival of her presence as well.

Do I want to birth a baby on Christmas Day?  Sure!  Why not?  What an awesome Christmas Present!  But, what about the "labor" part?  Do I really want to go through all that pain on a day of celebration?  Well, my desire to see my little girl far exceeds the pain that I will go through to get her here.  I ache so much to see her, and touch her, and look into her eyes.  The desire is driving me nuts!  If I could make this birthing process begin now, I would!  She is soooo close.  I mean, this is MY body!  And I can't make the birth happen?  I am a slave to my own body??  She is right there.  I can touch her through my belly.  But, I can't hold her with my arms, nor touch her soft skin and hair, kiss her cheeks, rub her back, rock her and sing to her.  God help me today to be thankful for the presents I am blessed with, and for the presence I am blessed with.

Waiting

Just a quick little note here...or not.  It is Christmas Eve 2012.  Five years ago Jay was diagnosed with leukemia (the bogey man).  But, we aren't lamenting that.  It is a memory.  Maybe, God has healed us enough to get this far.  To think of Jay and all the good things, the good memories, and even the memories that were more like living nightmares without being crushed by grief is... a gift.  This year I find that I am much more thankful.  I feel so full of gratitude for my family, for my husband, my children, and the hope of our future together.  I am sad that Jay is not with us physically to share all the fun.  But, I really feel him so close by.  It is as if I can feel his presence so strongly, more so than if he was walking the earth.  What would I rather have?  Definitely have Jay here!!!  But, I am ok with this leg of his journey with God. 

At this moment, I am looking at the clock, seeing that I have only 10 and a half more hours.  My greatest gift wish this year is to bring into this world our little girl.  Yes, we are pregnant with a little miracle!!  Not until recently did I really imagine what it will be like to have this precious person in our lives, in my arms.  For the most of the pregnancy I held my breath wondering if it was real, if she was real, or if she would stay long.  We have had 6 miscarriages since Jay died.  Each one was heartbreaking, confusing, maddening.  With each one I wondered what the heck God was doing and WHY.  God did lead me.  He led me to the various health factors that impeded the continuation of a pregnancy.  I also sought spiritual healing thinking that this too added to the miscarriage occurrences.  Finally, out of emotional frustration and exhaustion, I said, "One more time and that's it!".  Inside I gave up.  I made a decision to go on with my life, and other plans for the future.  I wasn't going to waste my time anymore with the heartache and loss.  Enough was ENOUGH! 

Just two or three weeks later I had a dream.  I dreamed I was riding in the back of a car with some friends.  As I looked out of the car window I saw Mary, the mother of Jesus  Christ, standing about 30 feet tall.  I asked my companions if they saw her and why they weren't stopping.  I couldn't understand why no one else saw her.  Suddenly, I found myself outside of the car standing in the road.  I walked over to Mary.  She handed me a baby bundled up in a linen cloth.  She had a look of concern on her face.  She looked to be about 45 years old with rough linen and wool on in brown, beige, and cream colored fabric.  A week after this dream I discovered I was pregnant. 

Now, here we are, waiting for our little bundle of joy.  We started praying about 6 weeks ago that she would be born on Christmas Eve.  I am not sure why we chose that day.  She could come tomorrow too.  That would be ok with me.  But, I would love to have her today.  Just because I prayed for her to come today.  I prayed for my first child to be born on Mother's Day.  Lo and behold, she was born at 5:38am on Mother's Day.  She and I will never forget this and cherish this special bond and gift between us. 

So, we wait.

Another Year

Another year (or a little more) has passed in the House of J.  At first, it was difficult to write about our lives.  Blue J wasn't here.  My motivation for just about everything disappeared.  About a year ago a little life began to spark again within me.  But, times were still tough.  And busy. 

Three years and 4 months will have passed on the 14th of September since Blue J's death.  I view life as "before and after":  before he died, and after he died.  I died right along with him.  Yet, my body still walked the earth.  I cried everyday for the first 9 months.  Then, slowly, I could get through most of the day without weeping.  Then, a day passed where I made it through the whole day without actually crying.  Maybe, I would choke up, or get tears in my eyes.  I am not sure when I stopped crying everyday.  But, there are times when I still grieve, cry, and hate this "after" life.  Today is a good example.  I read about a 14 year old boy in the news.  Blue J would be 14 right now.  As soon as I thought about it, I absolutely hated my life.  I hated that he was gone.  I would rather be stupid and still have him here than to take the journey of enlightenment, of soul-learning, or whatever reason God has for this route my life has taken.

Though I still miss him terribly and think about him all the time, healing has taken place in my  heart and soul.  This process takes time, and is different for everyone who loses a child, or any loved one.  So, here I am, trying to get back onto the writing highway. 

This will be all for right now.  TJ is sick with a cold.  When he first comes down with something he is quite fragile emotionally, quite uncomfortable, and really needs his momma.  So, here at the end of this day, this momma is tired.  Good night everyone!