Sunday, August 24, 2014

Will He Know ?

What if I spend the rest of my life looking in the eyes of every young boy I estimate to be born in January 2015 to see if he has my eye color or that of my son?

This isn't how I expected it would be. I was cautiously excited when I learned she was pregnant. I knew the circumstances weren't ideal, yet MY SON was having a baby. A child that shared my genes, possibly my hair color, maybe a tiny part of me. We learned the baby was a boy and they chose a name. Then she decided "yes, a baby was good by not with him".

I foolishly began to buy clothes and allowed my heart to get more and more attached. I know the statistics are against me ever having a relationship with a child that is being carried by a woman who is no longer involved with my son EXCEPT as often as I explain that to my heart I find myself wandering to the baby section of every store I'm in. I carry the itty bitty sleepers around for a few minutes before reality quickly reminds me he'll likely never wear them and I quietly put them back on the rack.

Everyday my heart shatters into millions of pieces and everyday I glue it back together with tears and pretend she isn't carrying a new tiny shard of it in her belly until he is born in January and I begin to watch for the face of the sweet boy that I will instinctively know belongs to me.

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

The Thing About Kids


I was the tender age of 23 when I found out I was pregnant with my first baby. I was beyond excited then I was nervous, then I was scared to death. How could I possibly be responsible for another human? I could barely take care of myself.  But as my belly grew so did my confidence that we were going to be alright, my little family. There were hurdles, some small some big.

Labor was a blur and I was cuddling this tiny, squirming infant that I was head over heels in love with. I could do this! Beware of the terrible two's people warned me. They weren't so bad. I won't say we sailed into childhood but we slid in with few bumps and bruises and a few broken bones.

At 29, when Chris was 6, Nick was born I figured this parenthood thing wasn't so hard. What I have learned is that babies are easy!

You know what's hard?

Watching your 17 year old son's heart break because  his girlfriend's parents won't allow her to see him.

Or wanting to shout from the roof tops the news your 23 year old just shared with you but knowing you can't because maybe not everyone will be as excited.

Wanting so much to keep them from hurting but knowing you can't, that's the hardest part of being a parent.

Bumps, bruises and broken bones of childhood, those are the easy parts. You just don't realize it at the time.

Friday, January 17, 2014

Let's Not Do That Again

I spent the last four or so months of last year wondering if I was dying of some awful disease. Not the hypochondriac kind, like some terrible Google disease that nobody has ever heard of but a REAL maybe begins with a "C" disease. I had convinced myself that some organ inside me was plotting my untimely demise.

I had mammograms. Ultrasounds. Girly exams. Even my gallbladder removed, which I don't recommend. It's not nearly as anti-traumatic as Grey's Anatomy portrays. The ultrasound showed a gallstone in there that magically disappeared between the ultrasound and the pathologists petri dish. I'm convincing myself that it fell out of the dish and got kicked  under the table in the pathologists office rather than believe that its still rolling around my tummy like a pinball.

I am apparently the worse surgery patient on the planet. What should have been a simple laproscopic surgery with a 3 day recovery turned into a 2 week, use ALL.YOUR.VACATION.DAYS. five month later still not 100% ordeal.  In addition, lets throw in a scope down my throat to see if said gallstone might be hanging out with some friends somewhere in there. The only good thing during all of this was a couple of REALLY nice naps complements of Propofol and a really nice anesthesiologist. I recommend using one of those so things don't go really bad like with Michael Jackson.

Now minus one gallbladder and about 30 pounds I'm feeling almost normal so I'm fairly sure I don't have any life threatening diseases.

My New Years resolution is to see a lot less doctors and unlike most people I'm hoping to put on about 10 pounds.