Childbirth

Oh natural childbirth. Been there, done that. But it wasn't voluntary. In fact, I would have preferred to NOT know about this subject. I am no wild woman who felt the need to prove my strength to the world, in fact, unless pushed I rarely admit to natural childbirth. Mostly because it wasn't by choice. I had my first child when I was 27 years old. Exactly 27 years old. My birthday is the 3rd, his is the 4th. I was only 34 weeks along. I wasn't ready to have a baby yet (hello! 6 more weeks....I suddenly knew how that dang groundhog feels every year!) and I knew in my heart he wasn't fully baked yet. I knew he wasn't ready. But when one's blood pressure is 210/110, you find your choices limited to trusting your doctor or possibly having a stroke. I swallowed hard and placed all my faith in the firecracker of an OB I had chosen. She induced my labor and within hours I was miserable. Really miserable. So the nurse called for the epidural. I had always planned on the drugs. I have no interest in being the hero. Nope, not this girl. But my son sat super low on my hips and while I had thought about the chiropractor, I had not ever made it that far. Too busy with moving and bedrest. You know, the basics. So here I sat in labor and delivery and I was laboring hard in my hips and back. Ouch! Now I have a pretty good pain tolerance. I have had elbow surgery that involved scraping the muscle off my elbow and re-attaching it. I know pain, and this was horrifying. The anestheologist tried multiple times to place an epidural. It was not a lot of fun. He even tried a full spinal block, like you get for a c-section. Nada. Nothing. No relief at all. That pretty much was a huge disappointment. I remember wondering how in the gravy I was going to get through having this baby. It was not fun. But 13 hours and 32 minutes later, my son was born. And really, the pushing was the easy part. The 13 hours before were no fun at all. I will save you descriptions of the pain...after all pain is entirely subjective and what I consider to be horrid might be peachy keen with you.
So why am I think about this random subject? After all there will be no more babies birthed from this body. Two was plenty thank you very much. I have had a baby every way possible. Natural childbirth, check. Vaginal delivery, check. C-section, check. Epidural (thank the good Lord!), check. Because I see a lot of women lately who seem to wear it as a badge of honor. And I guess if that is what you are after by all means go for it. I am not going to tell you that you are not awesome for pushing out a baby without drugs, but I am not going to give you any more congratulations then someone who had an epidural.  But I think that those women who are busy polishing their badge of honor ought to realize that those of us who like a good shot to the back are not bad people. We are not unaccomplished. We sure aren't wimpy. After all motherhood is not for wimps. And really the epidural you get during childbirth is the only chance during your child's life you can completely tune out during the hard part.

THIS life

Do you ever get those people who look at you and try to figure out how YOU got to where you are? Good or bad? My cute husband and I have a pretty darn good life. One that is fairly comfortable and a relationship that is mostest excellent. And it makes me freaking nuts when people look at me and give me the "how did YOU end up in such a place" look. I assume they mean good place. I would guess they are talking about happily married with a nice house, 2 cute kids, and an SUV in the garage which I like to drive to Disneyland. It makes me crazy that anyone would second guess how we got to where we are in life. We are decent people and we are happy. We know there are jobs that pay more. We know there are bigger houses. We know that it would be possible to have more children (well in theory anyway). But here is the thing, we like where we are. I dare say we are content. We like being able to do things, go places. We like our time together. We like being able to plan a trip and take it. I get mad when people try to claim my life as theirs....I once had someone tell me they loved my house and when she had one like it she was going to make a "few" changes to make it better. It took everything in my power to not punch her. Don't give me backhanded compliments. Don't try to figure out how I may not go to church on Sunday but I am still a great person. I work with charities not because someone told me I should, but because I believe in making a difference. We are active in making a difference and not just with a money but with time and effort. We work dang hard to keep the life we love. We work at our relationship. We talk to each other, good or bad. We work through the hard stuff. Because when we said "I do" we really meant for better or worse, no matter what. Because with out the hard stuff, the good stuff is not near as good. We sometimes have to make the hard choices. We worry about growing our children into responsible people. Those who do not expect the world handed to them. To be adults who work hard and are dependable. Not those who are waiting for a handout. We have had and have great support and great love. And a lot of hard work. That is how we have THIS life. And THIS life, is THE life.

Really, Really Bad Things

The world is filled with good things and bad things. And once in a while really bad things. Really, really BAD things. Last weekend, a man killed his children and himself. I am not going to put his name here. For me, it is not worth mentioning. Those 2 precious boys however, they deserve a mention. The deserve to be remembered as (what I am guessing) were sweet, precious boys who had their whole lives ahead of them. Heaven only knows what their futures would have held, they were only 5 and 7 years old. Despite the harsh realities of a missing mother (most would guess she was killed by the boys murderer) they were surrounded by people who loved them. Who wanted them to grow into whatever their potential held. Maybe they would have been good men, fathers, a doctor, a police detective, a social worker, a dump truck driver. Maybe a teacher or a pilot. But last Sunday, all that potential was snuffed out by one individual and his selfishness. For me there is no other way to describe their father's actions. Pure and simple selfish and evil. I believe in a God who is good and forgiving. But I also believe there are certain things that cannot be forgiven, no matter how much one repents or begs for forgiveness, and killing your children, that is one of those things.
Be at Peace sweet boys. I hope you didn't suffer, or realize what was happening. I hope you left this world not knowing who ended your short lives. I hope....well there are many thing I hope for you, but really I just wish you Peace.