I saw this status update shared on Facebook: "Motherhood is the big-leagues of self-sacrifice." My wheels slowly started turning...
What does it mean to play in the big-leagues? The Free Dictionary online says, "to be involved in something of large or important portions... (such as) playing a professional sport at the highest level."
According to the Merriam-Webster online dictionary, self-sacrifice is the "sacrifice (giving-up, surrendering) of oneself or one's interest for others or for a cause or ideal."
On John Piper's website, www.desiringgod.org, Rachel Jankovic's blog "The Real Life of the Pro-Life Home" goes on to say that "In our culture of self-gratification, to embrace selfless motherhood is a revolutionary act. To see the sacrifice and rejoice in it. To recognize that the cost is your own life, and to willingly lay yourself down." (Now, she talks about abortion and being Pro-Life in this article. You already know that I personally could never end a life, but it isn't my intent to discuss abortion today.)
I want to talk about the concept of motherhood being a big-league, sacrifice. For me, it appears to be a ballgame in which I play on one side of the field.
I actively chose to become a mother; I made a conscious decision to be a mom. Having children was my field of dreams. My first pregnancy was not an accident, nor was it by chance. My second (current) pregnancy was also discussed; a plan in the works. My husband and I pursued the path of parenthood for two years until our dreams finally started coming true.
In a way, I just can't look at motherhood as a sacrifice, or self-sacrifice. I didn't give-up myself, I decided to share myself. I didn't give-up my time, I decided to share my time. I didn't give-up my body; my body is a road map of my life that tells the story of every heartache and triumph... every stress and every blessed moment. I have not given-up my own interests, I continue to pursue them every day.
I selfishly chose to be a mother - wanting to bestow my ideals, morals, values, and character on my children - and am gratified and satisfied with my decision daily. I wanted to create a family and have a support system built around me. I wanted to create traditions and share memories with my offspring. For me, it wasn't a selfless, revolutionary act. Choosing to be a mom isn't a new-age idea. I did not give up who I was before I became a mom, after I had my first child. My child became an extension of my existence, making my life all the more enjoyable and rewarding. I am a better person because of my daughter (and future son.)
Here's where I do see motherhood as a self-sacrifice: I would gladly lay down my life, choosing death, if it meant my children could live. I would gladly take a bullet for my children. I would gladly walk through fire for my children... if it meant their existence would continue in a healthy and safe manner. That is true self-sacrifice: giving one's life for another.
From a professional standpoint, I do see motherhood as being a job worked in the big-leagues. It is one of the most important roles in the world, to be performed at the highest level, deserving of all the lime-light. I live to teach my kids, to help them develop and grow, to guide them and correct them. Raising a person to become a successful and positively contributing, productive member of society is no easy feat. It is the most difficult, most time-consuming, most precious job in the world.
Too bad we don't receive the salary of a pro ball player. Too bad we don't get vacation time. Too bad we don't get sick-days. Yes, motherhood can be hard. But for me, it was a challenge I was willing to take on. I had a good idea of what I was getting into. We work over-time, and don't always get a lot of credit. But again, it's not a sacrifice. It's what must be done, and it is work worth performing. While it would be nice to have a massive yearly income based on said workload, the physical and emotional rewards of being a mommy are far greater than any paycheck could ever provide.
Are we in the big-leagues because of motherhood? Yes. Is it because of self-sacrifice? I don't necessarily think so. Side note: not all mothers play the game with dignity and grace. Not all moms care for the game at all. But for those who do care, and who choose to take the time to hone-in on their skill and craft... their profession, well, we are in a league of our own.
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Friday, May 3, 2013
What's In A Name?
"What's in a name? That which we call a rose... by any other name would smell as sweet?" ~Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)
Juliet had to be out of her mind when she said this, right!?! I mean, what was Shakespeare thinking when he penned her monologue! He had to know the value and meaning of a name. Heck, he wrote about one family (name) feuding against another. [Just kidding. Shakespeare was a genius! He knew what he was doing.]
But seriously, finding the perfect name is substantial and can be a major task for some parents these days. Sure, I get it. You can call a rose anything you want and it's essence is basically the same - can't change that fact. Won't argue with the bearded bard there. And no matter what you call a baby, a baby is still a baby and will be precious all the same. But you probably can't tell a modern mom that if she named her son Archibald or her daughter Edwina that her little bundle of joy won't get some crazy looks here, and a few teases there. Names are important.
Don't get me wrong, Archibald and Edwina are perfectly decent and acceptable names... not trying to disrespect anyone. They're just a little antiquated in my humble opinion, that's all. Of course, names these days are wild and crazy... so, to each their own. Honestly, my daughter's name is a little out there. We received many an eye-ball roll. But her name suits her perfectly.
How in the world does one begin to choose a baby name!?! For some, this can be rather easy. For others, the "chore" can be quite challenging... especially if you have a partner you have to agree with.
When I was pregnant with my daughter, my husband and I had the hardest time agreeing on a girl's name. I loved certain names, he hated them. He was partial to a select few, I couldn't stand them. For months we searched through family names, read through books of names, and scrolled through the internet. No luck. Our daughter remained nameless. What would we put on her birth certificate? I didn't want to pull a Rachel from FRIENDS, and steal my best gal pal's name for her future daughter while I was still in the hospital after giving birth to mine.
One day, I heard a last name mentioned. Teasingly, I suggested it to my husband thinking he wouldn't like it. Would you believe it actually captured his attention. He said, "Yeah, that's it." After looking the name up, we were sold. And so it was. After saying the name over, nothing else worked.
Now we are trying to find a name for our son. Once again, we find ourselves disagreeing on everything. Do we use a family name? Do we use a popular, trendy name? What about a more traditional name, or a Biblical name? How about a foreign name? How about selecting a name that means something to us personally? Do we look inside a book, or do we find this name on his Nook... scrolling through the internet? Options are endless.
Hopefully, we'll have a little more time to find the perfect name for our baby boy. I don't believe a name completely defines someone; however, it plays a key role in contributing to the significance of their essence and being. A name gives one a sense of identity and uniqueness. It helps to set us apart from the rest.
What's in a name? Essentially, everything. That's why we spend countless hours searching high and low to find the proper one.
Juliet had to be out of her mind when she said this, right!?! I mean, what was Shakespeare thinking when he penned her monologue! He had to know the value and meaning of a name. Heck, he wrote about one family (name) feuding against another. [Just kidding. Shakespeare was a genius! He knew what he was doing.]
But seriously, finding the perfect name is substantial and can be a major task for some parents these days. Sure, I get it. You can call a rose anything you want and it's essence is basically the same - can't change that fact. Won't argue with the bearded bard there. And no matter what you call a baby, a baby is still a baby and will be precious all the same. But you probably can't tell a modern mom that if she named her son Archibald or her daughter Edwina that her little bundle of joy won't get some crazy looks here, and a few teases there. Names are important.
Don't get me wrong, Archibald and Edwina are perfectly decent and acceptable names... not trying to disrespect anyone. They're just a little antiquated in my humble opinion, that's all. Of course, names these days are wild and crazy... so, to each their own. Honestly, my daughter's name is a little out there. We received many an eye-ball roll. But her name suits her perfectly.
How in the world does one begin to choose a baby name!?! For some, this can be rather easy. For others, the "chore" can be quite challenging... especially if you have a partner you have to agree with.
When I was pregnant with my daughter, my husband and I had the hardest time agreeing on a girl's name. I loved certain names, he hated them. He was partial to a select few, I couldn't stand them. For months we searched through family names, read through books of names, and scrolled through the internet. No luck. Our daughter remained nameless. What would we put on her birth certificate? I didn't want to pull a Rachel from FRIENDS, and steal my best gal pal's name for her future daughter while I was still in the hospital after giving birth to mine.
One day, I heard a last name mentioned. Teasingly, I suggested it to my husband thinking he wouldn't like it. Would you believe it actually captured his attention. He said, "Yeah, that's it." After looking the name up, we were sold. And so it was. After saying the name over, nothing else worked.
Now we are trying to find a name for our son. Once again, we find ourselves disagreeing on everything. Do we use a family name? Do we use a popular, trendy name? What about a more traditional name, or a Biblical name? How about a foreign name? How about selecting a name that means something to us personally? Do we look inside a book, or do we find this name on his Nook... scrolling through the internet? Options are endless.
Hopefully, we'll have a little more time to find the perfect name for our baby boy. I don't believe a name completely defines someone; however, it plays a key role in contributing to the significance of their essence and being. A name gives one a sense of identity and uniqueness. It helps to set us apart from the rest.
What's in a name? Essentially, everything. That's why we spend countless hours searching high and low to find the proper one.
Haves & Have-Nots
Another fun little aspect of pregnancy is dealing with cravings and aversions, or the haves and have-nots!
“To crave and to have are as like as a thing and its shadow. For when does a berry break upon the tongue as sweetly as when one longs to taste it, and when is the taste refracted into so many hues and savors of ripeness and earth, and when do our senses know any thing so utterly as when we lack it? And here again is a foreshadowing -- the world will be made whole. For to wish for a hand on one's hair is all but to feel it. So whatever we may lose, very craving gives it back to us again.”
― Marilynne Robinson, Housekeeping (found on www.goodreads.com.)
When I was pregnant with my daughter, I didn't have very strong cravings or aversions.
One night, my husband and I went out for sushi - this was before I knew I was pregnant, but it was also the night I felt in my heart that I was pregnant. We went to a little Japanese restaurant. I ate a huge dinner, packing away teriyaki salmon, rice, salad with ginger dressing, miso soup, edamame, sweet and sour cucumbers, and two different sushi rolls. I was stuffed.
As soon as the hubbs and I stepped outside, I could smell McDonald's fries. Yes, there was a Micky D's close by; no, I wasn't going crazy. I looked at Big M and said, "I want McDonald's fries, and I want them now. They better be hot, salty, golden brown, and extra crispy." My heart fluttered after making this request. I looked at him again with a twinkle in my eyes. He looked at me and said, "Don't read too much into this." We'd been trying for two years to get pregnant and had lots of little signs and symptoms that turned into nothing. But, our hopes were up, once again. I ordered my fries, the largest size possible, and they were delicious. Also, they disappeared almost immediately.
Other than the onset of a french fry frenzy, I remember wanting Nerds candy on several occasions, and not wanting my favorite Chinese beef broccoli meal a time or two. And I never experienced morning sickness during my first pregnancy. That was the gist.
My second pregnancy has been the complete opposite. Cravings, aversions, and morning sickness abounded in my first trimester. I've mostly wanted my mom's homemade spaghetti sauce, and her sweet tea. And rice krispy treats. Snap, Crackle, Pop! My aversions have been much stronger. I despised cooking onions and garlic - something I normally love. The slight smell alone would make me sick, even with all of the windows open in our home. I could no longer eat my favorites such as fajitas or kielbasa sausage and onions.
I'm hoping my aversions don't come back in my third trimester; life was rough during the first three months of this pregnancy. Well, at this point, I'm just hoping we make it to the third trimester.
If anything, at least cravings and aversions give you a few stories to tell while carrying your little bundle of joy. Also, they are one of pregnancy's little reminders that your body is hard at work, making your beautiful baby.
“To crave and to have are as like as a thing and its shadow. For when does a berry break upon the tongue as sweetly as when one longs to taste it, and when is the taste refracted into so many hues and savors of ripeness and earth, and when do our senses know any thing so utterly as when we lack it? And here again is a foreshadowing -- the world will be made whole. For to wish for a hand on one's hair is all but to feel it. So whatever we may lose, very craving gives it back to us again.”
― Marilynne Robinson, Housekeeping (found on www.goodreads.com.)
"You know quite well, deep within you, that there
is only a single magic, a single power, a single salvation...and that
is called loving. Well, then, love your suffering. Do not resist it, do
not flee from it. It is your aversion that hurts, nothing else."
Hermann Hesse
"A feeling of aversion or attachment toward something is your clue that there's work to be done."
Ram DassWhen I was pregnant with my daughter, I didn't have very strong cravings or aversions.
One night, my husband and I went out for sushi - this was before I knew I was pregnant, but it was also the night I felt in my heart that I was pregnant. We went to a little Japanese restaurant. I ate a huge dinner, packing away teriyaki salmon, rice, salad with ginger dressing, miso soup, edamame, sweet and sour cucumbers, and two different sushi rolls. I was stuffed.
As soon as the hubbs and I stepped outside, I could smell McDonald's fries. Yes, there was a Micky D's close by; no, I wasn't going crazy. I looked at Big M and said, "I want McDonald's fries, and I want them now. They better be hot, salty, golden brown, and extra crispy." My heart fluttered after making this request. I looked at him again with a twinkle in my eyes. He looked at me and said, "Don't read too much into this." We'd been trying for two years to get pregnant and had lots of little signs and symptoms that turned into nothing. But, our hopes were up, once again. I ordered my fries, the largest size possible, and they were delicious. Also, they disappeared almost immediately.
Other than the onset of a french fry frenzy, I remember wanting Nerds candy on several occasions, and not wanting my favorite Chinese beef broccoli meal a time or two. And I never experienced morning sickness during my first pregnancy. That was the gist.
My second pregnancy has been the complete opposite. Cravings, aversions, and morning sickness abounded in my first trimester. I've mostly wanted my mom's homemade spaghetti sauce, and her sweet tea. And rice krispy treats. Snap, Crackle, Pop! My aversions have been much stronger. I despised cooking onions and garlic - something I normally love. The slight smell alone would make me sick, even with all of the windows open in our home. I could no longer eat my favorites such as fajitas or kielbasa sausage and onions.
I'm hoping my aversions don't come back in my third trimester; life was rough during the first three months of this pregnancy. Well, at this point, I'm just hoping we make it to the third trimester.
If anything, at least cravings and aversions give you a few stories to tell while carrying your little bundle of joy. Also, they are one of pregnancy's little reminders that your body is hard at work, making your beautiful baby.
Synchronized Walking... With My Dog
A friend of mine is having difficulty conceiving a child with her husband, and recently started a blog to record their journey together. Fingers are crossed because things are starting to look up for them!
Anyway, her post today was about their "other children" - their four-legged, furry, friendly pups. She asked the question, "Can dogs really sense things?" Of course, she already knows the answer to this... YOU BETTCHA! As proven by her sweet "babies." Her post, and the comment I made on her blog have inspired my above title... and the following:
Takota, for all intents and purposes, is my second "child." Big M and I adopted him into our family nearly 10 years ago. He is our brindled pup - sweetest, friendliest dog you will ever meet. He loves to hog the sofa and stretch out, belly up, with ears flopped out to the side... and yes, sometimes even his tongue hangs out too. He has adjusted to life beautifully with his younger sister, our daughter M. He checks up on her in the middle of the night, and showers her with kisses when he thinks I'm not looking. Tako doesn't even mind her crying and screaming at times (hello, terrible two's!) Oh, and he just loves it when M shares her peanut butter sandwich... when SHE thinks I'm not looking.
Takota knows I'm pregnant again. He can definitely sense something is up, something is changing in our family unit. And I know he senses the complications that are accompanying this pregnancy.
Before I found out I was pregnant, it was life as usual for our puppy around the house. He did his own thing and minded his own business... except for dinner time... then he minded our business, lol. When I became pregnant again, Takota started paying more attention to me again. And before the first sign of trouble, his ears perked up and he lifted his head to my side... and then the bleeding began.
Now Takota stays at my side most of the time, and minds me more than he minds himself, especially if I'm having issues... which he always seems to know before I do. And when I get up to move, he's already moving with me... as if we are synchronized walking. He knows I need him, and I love that he knows.
Family and friends have been very supportive through this time, offering words of encouragement, which I greatly appreciate. But my second child has been with me every step of the way, comforting me in silence... both during the day and through the late hours of the night. To my furry child, Tako, I must also give thanks.
Anyway, her post today was about their "other children" - their four-legged, furry, friendly pups. She asked the question, "Can dogs really sense things?" Of course, she already knows the answer to this... YOU BETTCHA! As proven by her sweet "babies." Her post, and the comment I made on her blog have inspired my above title... and the following:
Takota, for all intents and purposes, is my second "child." Big M and I adopted him into our family nearly 10 years ago. He is our brindled pup - sweetest, friendliest dog you will ever meet. He loves to hog the sofa and stretch out, belly up, with ears flopped out to the side... and yes, sometimes even his tongue hangs out too. He has adjusted to life beautifully with his younger sister, our daughter M. He checks up on her in the middle of the night, and showers her with kisses when he thinks I'm not looking. Tako doesn't even mind her crying and screaming at times (hello, terrible two's!) Oh, and he just loves it when M shares her peanut butter sandwich... when SHE thinks I'm not looking.
Takota knows I'm pregnant again. He can definitely sense something is up, something is changing in our family unit. And I know he senses the complications that are accompanying this pregnancy.
Before I found out I was pregnant, it was life as usual for our puppy around the house. He did his own thing and minded his own business... except for dinner time... then he minded our business, lol. When I became pregnant again, Takota started paying more attention to me again. And before the first sign of trouble, his ears perked up and he lifted his head to my side... and then the bleeding began.
Now Takota stays at my side most of the time, and minds me more than he minds himself, especially if I'm having issues... which he always seems to know before I do. And when I get up to move, he's already moving with me... as if we are synchronized walking. He knows I need him, and I love that he knows.
Family and friends have been very supportive through this time, offering words of encouragement, which I greatly appreciate. But my second child has been with me every step of the way, comforting me in silence... both during the day and through the late hours of the night. To my furry child, Tako, I must also give thanks.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Not Again!
Tonight's plans of staying home, lounging in the recliner while my hubby soared through our evening routine solo (for the most part) and then watching a little tv together, were thwarted.
A little back-story: This morning I woke up to incapacitating gas - for the fourth time during my complicated pregnancy. The intense pain and pressure kept me from moving for the better part of two hours! The pain eased up after the second hour, but the pressure remained. This time, the gas was different from all of the others. My belly remained super firm throughout the day. And even though I could go to the bathroom and break wind, pardon the expression, the pressure never let up.
After a few more hours passed with no relief, I called my doctor's office and asked to speak to a nurse. I explained everything to her. I told her I'd had regular bowel movements every day this week. I told her I was drinking lots of water and even took Metamucil just in case I was constipated today. I also took a hot shower to see if I could get relief. Nada. I mentioned I felt silly for going in for gas. But for peace of mind, I went in to the doc's office anyway to make sure there wasn't anything else occurring that I wasn't aware of. While I was waiting to see the nurse, the pressure changed. It was no longer constant. The pain gradually contracted and released. Contracted and released. Yep, I started having mild contractions.
The nurse sent me to the hospital, my third visit in the last month. Not again! After I checked in, the nurse in the triage unit hooked me up to all of the monitors. My contractions were about 3 minutes apart, and on a pain scale of 1-10 ranged 3-4 for me, personally. Boy were they sharp at times... yet thankfully, not unbearable. I drank down two cups of water. Gave a urine sample. And waited.
While I waited, my mother left a dinner party to come get my daughter for the night. And my best friend gave up studying for her final exam to come sit with me so my husband could go eat dinner. Too bad I wasn't allowed to eat. I had a hankering for a big, fat, juicy steak. (Thank you, wonderful ladies, for lending a helping hand tonight. Your kindness will never be forgotten.)
Finally the doc came in and checked me over. The baby's heartbeat was still healthy and strong. My cervix was not dilated. Some clot was removed. Aside from the mild contractions, everything else looked great. They didn't need to give me any meds to stop the contractions; they eventually slowed on their own. I declined a heavy pain pill, and said I would just take a Tylenol at home. Then I was discharged. Doctor's orders were to continue to rest, and call in if anything changed. Also, I was told to expect more contractions of increasing degree, throughout the rest of my pregnancy.
Once again, I am thankful to still be pregnant. I am thankful that despite all of my preggo woes, my little man is still just as healthy as can be. It is frustrating, knowing I am a high risk pregnancy, yet not knowing what will happen and when. All of these hospital visits are alarming in the moment. And then we are sent home into the unknown, to continue to wait and see.
I will continue to focus on all of the positive aspects of my pregnancy. I will continue to pray for the health and safety of my baby boy. I will continue to take things one day at a time. And by golly, we'll make it! Keeping faith.
A little back-story: This morning I woke up to incapacitating gas - for the fourth time during my complicated pregnancy. The intense pain and pressure kept me from moving for the better part of two hours! The pain eased up after the second hour, but the pressure remained. This time, the gas was different from all of the others. My belly remained super firm throughout the day. And even though I could go to the bathroom and break wind, pardon the expression, the pressure never let up.
After a few more hours passed with no relief, I called my doctor's office and asked to speak to a nurse. I explained everything to her. I told her I'd had regular bowel movements every day this week. I told her I was drinking lots of water and even took Metamucil just in case I was constipated today. I also took a hot shower to see if I could get relief. Nada. I mentioned I felt silly for going in for gas. But for peace of mind, I went in to the doc's office anyway to make sure there wasn't anything else occurring that I wasn't aware of. While I was waiting to see the nurse, the pressure changed. It was no longer constant. The pain gradually contracted and released. Contracted and released. Yep, I started having mild contractions.
The nurse sent me to the hospital, my third visit in the last month. Not again! After I checked in, the nurse in the triage unit hooked me up to all of the monitors. My contractions were about 3 minutes apart, and on a pain scale of 1-10 ranged 3-4 for me, personally. Boy were they sharp at times... yet thankfully, not unbearable. I drank down two cups of water. Gave a urine sample. And waited.
While I waited, my mother left a dinner party to come get my daughter for the night. And my best friend gave up studying for her final exam to come sit with me so my husband could go eat dinner. Too bad I wasn't allowed to eat. I had a hankering for a big, fat, juicy steak. (Thank you, wonderful ladies, for lending a helping hand tonight. Your kindness will never be forgotten.)
Finally the doc came in and checked me over. The baby's heartbeat was still healthy and strong. My cervix was not dilated. Some clot was removed. Aside from the mild contractions, everything else looked great. They didn't need to give me any meds to stop the contractions; they eventually slowed on their own. I declined a heavy pain pill, and said I would just take a Tylenol at home. Then I was discharged. Doctor's orders were to continue to rest, and call in if anything changed. Also, I was told to expect more contractions of increasing degree, throughout the rest of my pregnancy.
Once again, I am thankful to still be pregnant. I am thankful that despite all of my preggo woes, my little man is still just as healthy as can be. It is frustrating, knowing I am a high risk pregnancy, yet not knowing what will happen and when. All of these hospital visits are alarming in the moment. And then we are sent home into the unknown, to continue to wait and see.
I will continue to focus on all of the positive aspects of my pregnancy. I will continue to pray for the health and safety of my baby boy. I will continue to take things one day at a time. And by golly, we'll make it! Keeping faith.
Unsung Hero
Lately, I've been talking A LOT about some of the complicated pregnancy issues I've been dealing with. Numerous family and friends have been so supportive and encouraging. They tell me things like, "You have a wonderful attitude through all of this," and "We admire your strength." These compliments help me to keep going, and I greatly appreciate them. However, there is an unsung hero in this story. While he has received some credit, I feel he deserves so much more. I want to take a moment to "sing" his praises.
My wonderful husband, Big M, has been the glue keeping my little family together and functioning. He has been, and continues to bend over backwards taking care of me, our daughter, our pets, and all of the other household duties and responsibilities such as cooking, cleaning, doing the laundry, and paying the bills. And all of this has been no easy feat, because my husband is disabled and suffers from a chronic disease. He is worn out and exhausted. He has migraines daily. He stumbles, trips, and even falls in getting these tasks accomplished. Again, he is the melody that makes our song soar. My attitude and strength pale in comparison to what he has been giving.
I have a honey-do list a mile long of all of the "little things" Big M has done, on top of completing the "big things" that are necessary. He brings me water. He gets my vitamins. He serves my meals. He drives me to all of my doctor appointments. He ventures out at all hours of the day and night to supply my cravings. He helps me shower. He shaves my legs. In my weaker moments, he has helped to dress me. He rubs my back. He massages my legs and feet. He brushes my hair. He wakes and sits with me in the middle of the night when I have pain. He rubs my belly when I have incapacitating gas. He's let me cry. He's made me laugh. He's up and down, back and forth throughout the day helping me and our daughter - who has a daddy-do list of her own. Once again, this list goes on, and on, and on. HE IS THE MAN, AND THIS MAN IS MY HERO!
While I have a great attitude about all of this, Big M's has been superior, by far. Not once has he complained, though I see the strain and toll this complicated situation has put on him. I am blessed to have married by best friend. I am blessed to have an incredible husband who loves me with all of his heart; for better or worse, in sickness and in health... 'til death do us part. Yes, this love will go the distance. One day at a time, such as the time that passes with a complicated pregnancy.
[Babe, I love you, more than words could ever express. THANK YOU for all you do. You are amazing and significant in every way. I deeply cherish you for all you are.]
My wonderful husband, Big M, has been the glue keeping my little family together and functioning. He has been, and continues to bend over backwards taking care of me, our daughter, our pets, and all of the other household duties and responsibilities such as cooking, cleaning, doing the laundry, and paying the bills. And all of this has been no easy feat, because my husband is disabled and suffers from a chronic disease. He is worn out and exhausted. He has migraines daily. He stumbles, trips, and even falls in getting these tasks accomplished. Again, he is the melody that makes our song soar. My attitude and strength pale in comparison to what he has been giving.
I have a honey-do list a mile long of all of the "little things" Big M has done, on top of completing the "big things" that are necessary. He brings me water. He gets my vitamins. He serves my meals. He drives me to all of my doctor appointments. He ventures out at all hours of the day and night to supply my cravings. He helps me shower. He shaves my legs. In my weaker moments, he has helped to dress me. He rubs my back. He massages my legs and feet. He brushes my hair. He wakes and sits with me in the middle of the night when I have pain. He rubs my belly when I have incapacitating gas. He's let me cry. He's made me laugh. He's up and down, back and forth throughout the day helping me and our daughter - who has a daddy-do list of her own. Once again, this list goes on, and on, and on. HE IS THE MAN, AND THIS MAN IS MY HERO!
While I have a great attitude about all of this, Big M's has been superior, by far. Not once has he complained, though I see the strain and toll this complicated situation has put on him. I am blessed to have married by best friend. I am blessed to have an incredible husband who loves me with all of his heart; for better or worse, in sickness and in health... 'til death do us part. Yes, this love will go the distance. One day at a time, such as the time that passes with a complicated pregnancy.
[Babe, I love you, more than words could ever express. THANK YOU for all you do. You are amazing and significant in every way. I deeply cherish you for all you are.]
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Caution: Road Closed
My last few posts have been about the wild, world of subchorionic hematomas. Pregnancy in general, can be a wild, world of it's own. I believe pregnancy is a beautiful thing, and can be flattering for any woman. But we don't always experience the glow. Sometimes, pregnancy can be down right unbecoming on a personal level.
Caution: Colon Tunnel Road is closed! A waste disposal truck has turned over on it's side, blocking outbound traffic. What's a gal to do? Find alternate route.
That's right! I'm talking about constipation (not a topic likely to be found on Twitter or Facebook.) Definitely unbecoming!
Dealing with constipation can be hard, no pun intended. According to WebMD, bowel movements become difficult or the frequency of bowel movements decreases with this condition. If you've experienced straining, hard stools, not being able to finish (incomplete evacuation of poop), or two or fewer #2s in a week, you know what I'm talking about.
I only experienced constipation once in my first pregnancy. For me, that was followed by another badge of pregnancy, good ol' hemorrhoids. This go around I've experienced constipation several times. I believe I'm experiencing this aggravation more in this pregnancy due to bed rest and lack of proper exercise.
Maintaining proper nutrition/balanced meals with good fiber intake, and drinking plenty of water help combat this irritating preggo badge. [Note: good sources of fiber include fruits, vegetables, beans, and whole grains such as bran. (Don't forget to stock up on prunes. Yuck!)] I can check nutrition and water off of the list. And of course, if you are able to move around and perhaps fit in a little exercise (following doctor's guidelines of course), that helps fight the condition as well. Unfortunately, I can't check that box, so Metamucil has become my sexy little friend - the hot-bodied emergency road worker who steps up to clear the tunnel. If I haven't defecated in a day or two (which is my regular cycle), and I start feeling a little backed up or clogged, I go ahead and add Metamucil to my agua. That usually gets things flowing in the right direction. I found my alternate route, and am always grateful for the de-congestion of traffic.
I'm trying to keep it real folks. And I can only tell you what works for me. While I love the beauty of pregnancy, even this complicated one, it can be gross at times. And for me, talking about the good, the bad, the pretty, the ugly, and the indifferent helps.
Disclaimer: I am not a doctor or medical professional. Research constipation and other pregnancy related info for yourself and discuss with your own physician.
Caution: Colon Tunnel Road is closed! A waste disposal truck has turned over on it's side, blocking outbound traffic. What's a gal to do? Find alternate route.
That's right! I'm talking about constipation (not a topic likely to be found on Twitter or Facebook.) Definitely unbecoming!
Dealing with constipation can be hard, no pun intended. According to WebMD, bowel movements become difficult or the frequency of bowel movements decreases with this condition. If you've experienced straining, hard stools, not being able to finish (incomplete evacuation of poop), or two or fewer #2s in a week, you know what I'm talking about.
I only experienced constipation once in my first pregnancy. For me, that was followed by another badge of pregnancy, good ol' hemorrhoids. This go around I've experienced constipation several times. I believe I'm experiencing this aggravation more in this pregnancy due to bed rest and lack of proper exercise.
Maintaining proper nutrition/balanced meals with good fiber intake, and drinking plenty of water help combat this irritating preggo badge. [Note: good sources of fiber include fruits, vegetables, beans, and whole grains such as bran. (Don't forget to stock up on prunes. Yuck!)] I can check nutrition and water off of the list. And of course, if you are able to move around and perhaps fit in a little exercise (following doctor's guidelines of course), that helps fight the condition as well. Unfortunately, I can't check that box, so Metamucil has become my sexy little friend - the hot-bodied emergency road worker who steps up to clear the tunnel. If I haven't defecated in a day or two (which is my regular cycle), and I start feeling a little backed up or clogged, I go ahead and add Metamucil to my agua. That usually gets things flowing in the right direction. I found my alternate route, and am always grateful for the de-congestion of traffic.
I'm trying to keep it real folks. And I can only tell you what works for me. While I love the beauty of pregnancy, even this complicated one, it can be gross at times. And for me, talking about the good, the bad, the pretty, the ugly, and the indifferent helps.
Disclaimer: I am not a doctor or medical professional. Research constipation and other pregnancy related info for yourself and discuss with your own physician.
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