The next chapter...

It's official, and as of August 8th @ 3:20pm, there will be no turning back.

DH and I decided (or maybe mostly I decided and he didn't argue?) that we are as ready as we will ever be to make L a little brother or sister...Decided that L is getting "too big", and that we should add another baby to the mix. So I called the dr's office and have an appt for August 8th to have my IUD removed. 2 weeks from today. It's very exciting and beyond scary all at the same time.

The more I think about it, the more sentimental I get thinking about the fact that this means L will no longer be our only little baby. We will no longer be able to play "Who's the cutest baby in the whole world?...L is!!" because there will be 2 cutest babies in the whole world. He will no longer be able to stake sole claim to that title...I feel a little sad taking that from him.

It just feels like it's gone too fast; I can't believe that we are already to the point of closing this chapter in our life; this chapter of 'just the three of us'. It seems like only yesterday that we were going through the whole TTC our first, the losses we had, and all of the emotions that went with it. That amazingly special time of going from being two seperate people bound as one by our love for each other to being a family bound even more so by a manifestation of that love. That time of discovering the first delicious taste of what it feels like to look at and hold and nurture a creation of that love. How truly wonderful and scary it is to realize this new role of parent you hold from now until forever and beyond. How can we already be turning the page to the next chapter?

And yet, at the same time, I cannot wait to feel those first flutters of a fetus in my belly (I remember the first time I felt L as if it were 5 minutes ago)...can't wait to have that little being with me, inside of me, every moment of every day for 10 months, dreaming and hoping and speculating and loving. I can't wait to experience again the empowerment of childbirth. To again undergo the most primal function the female body knows; to feel that connection to our mothers and their mothers and their mothers' mothers; to all mothers since the beginning of time...I can't wait to see what the next creation of our love will look like; will he or she look just like L did? Nothing like L did? Have a similar or divergent personality as L? I long to hold another baby to my breast. I just fear that I may feel like I am neglecting L as I revel in all the joys of a newborn baby...Fear that I somehow won't be able to manipulate time so there is enough to enjoy everything as much as I want to.

I know that this next chapter will be no less special than the previous, and that L's role as a big brother will be no less meaningful and wonderful than his role as the 'only child'. I have no doubt that my heart will simply grow and I will have more than enough love for everyone and that unimportant things will be set aside and this will allow me to somehow find the time to really focus on the things that matter.

It's just the reality of time passing weighing down on me more heavily now that we have actually made this decision.

It must be the hormones?

Feeling a bit blue today.

Couldn't really say why; I had a nice day off yesterday (save for the hour I spent at the dentist getting a tooth prepared for a crown, me hopes you never have to do that!), got to spend some extra time with my DS, and even got a nap in! My second mortgage refinance is almost finished, which is relieving a TON of anxiety I have been having about THAT getting out of hand and unaffordable. We have a plan in place to pay off the credit cards by next spring, which will probably be able to happen even sooner thanks to the tree that fell on our roof and a little sweat equity on our part...Well maybe not so much 'our' sweat as DH's :0). DH's job is still looking very stable, much more stable than most construction industry people are feeling right now anyway. I have been able get my short term disability plan started up again.

All of this financial change has led to me finally feeling stable enough for us to go ahead and stop protecting against pregnancy, and see if we can't create a little sister or brother for our DS, which makes me really happy...scared shitless, but happy.

We are having a good summer, and our (mostly) annual trip to the cabin is approaching fast (and the cabin is COMPLETELY paid off already this year, as opposed to the other years where we just threw it on the card!!), which is going to be SO MUCH fun with DS this year. Not to mention I could really use some relaxation.

In light of all this stuff going well, what reason could I possibly have to be feeling blue??? I am going to blame it on hormones...it MUST be hormones.

Emotionally vulnerable...

No one ever told me that having a child, being a mother, would leave me with an emotional wound so raw that I will forever feel vulnerable.

Well maybe they told me, but they described it by saying things like "You'll wear your heart on your sleeve". Said it in ways that in no way, shape or form came even CLOSE to making me understand the astounding depth of vulnerability I would feel upon bringing that little human being into the world.

I have discovered that my heart is not 'on my sleeve', a piece of my SOUL happens to currently be 40 miles away from me. Wherever that little person is, find him, and you have found my heart, my soul. The moment he came forth from my womb, a piece of my soul was ripped from my core along with him and thrown out in the open to be forever exposed. Like a snail sans shell, that piece of me is and forever will be in imminent danger. While in my care, my soul was sheltered, hidden behind years of carefully constructed walls to keep out the pain...motes dug to discourage the enemy...structures built from lessons learned. Now, this piece of my soul is going to go through it all again...all the things that I cannot protect him from, those things he needs to experience on his own to build his own castle against will no doubt hurt me just as much as they do him...


All parents come to know this, but somehow it gets passed over amidst all of the other "Your life will never be the same" type warnings one receives while waiting for that first little bun to come out of the oven. Maybe that is intentional; if one knew completely the depth of this feeling prior to having kids, we may be less likely to undertake the task; that is, until we fully understand the depth and the massive expanse of the emotional fulfillment that also come with it. Quite possibly it is impossible; impossible for anyone to fully grasp the depth of the emotion without having experienced it for themselves, and therefore impossible to explain in simple words.

I wonder how my soul will be able to handle the additional burden of having another child? I wonder, seriously, if I am emotionally capable of spreading my heart out even more? I wonder how any parent ever goes on after some tragedy or another befalls their child? How does a parent cope with loosing a child? I honestly cannot imagine having to endure what must be immense agony that comes with that, and it scares me to think that I will be opening myself even more to that possibility by having another child...

Knowing that having another child means being even more vulnerable is a scary, scary thing.

But I do not want to; no, I CANNOT live my life in fear...WILL not give up the happiness because of fear...

Blogging enroute...

I wish I could blog while driving...maybe I should get a little hand held recorder so I can record my thoughts for later transcription to my blog. I always think of stuff during my 70 minutes of commute time each day, and I always get it worded just right or have this big epiphany during my drive, and then by the time I get time to blog it, too many thoughts have crowded back in and everything gets jumbled again, and what I put down here is no where near as eloquent as it was in my head.

The Story of Stuff

I think everyone should see this video. I hope y'all check it out.

www.thestoryofstuff.com

(The link is the title...I am still trying to get the hang of this edit html crap, ugh! I made it work on a previous post, but couldn't get it to work here...)

Something more...

I can't help but think I was meant to do something more than this...

I don't want to sound self important, but it has occurred to me lately that I think I was meant to do, to BE something more meaningful in this life.

I am an estimator / project coordinator for a construction company, and I like what I do, but the further along I get it in this journey of mine, the more it feels like this can't be all I was meant for. The further I walk along this road, the more what I do actually seems to be at odds with what I am finding to feel 'right'. The deeper I travel, the more irritated I get...irritated with myself for being so out of touch with myself when I made the decision of what I 'wanted to be'. I like what I do well enough, but it doesn't light a fire in my soul, it does not invoke passion...

Digging in the dirt, nurturing plants. Playing music on my violin. Taking photos of all of the amazing forms of life laid out before us. Doing things to cherish and honor and preserve the gift of this wondrous planet. Writing. THOSE things light a fire of passion within me. Running in this rat race, it is turning out, does not. And yet I feel trapped. Trapped because I LIKE the level of 'luxury' we live in (definitely using that term loosely, but honestly, I know we do have it pretty darn good). Trapped because the bills have to be paid. Trapped because I am scared. There, if we are being completely honest, change scares the sh*t outta me. I have a freakish, compulsive need for control, and the kind of change I am talking about involves releasing ALOT of control and having faith that everything will work out.

My friend L has told me a few times how she is envious of me because I get it. Envious that I got it so much earlier in life than she did. Right now, L, I feel like you are just flattering me. I may have gotten some things, but I guess I was just in too much of a haze to get the most important thing; me.

I feel like I lost so much time thinking I knew who I was and what I valued and what I stood for, but now that I am really delving into it, I am feeling like I let myself down. I am feeling like I have never really known who I am. Wasn't I sposed to have this all figured out by now? I feel lost to myself.

Being a project coordinator isn't meaningless; not to the owner's of the company that I make money for. Not to the sick people who visit the clinic or hospital and maybe receive a bit of comfort from their surroundings, which I played a role in making a reality. It is not meaningless to me and my family in that it helps pay the bills; it helps us have a home, and 2 decent cars for us to get to work, and to pay for things for my dear son, and to help pay for our trip to the cabin which we are able to take most years. But when you get down to it, I am finding it meaningless to my SOUL. I am in an industry that eats up open land building new buildings, eats up natural resources to produce the carpets and vinyls and ceilings and walls and furniture and all the STUFF that goes inside. An industry that fights legislation intended to protect the Earth and the valuable resources she provides us because it cuts into their profits; affects their ability to achieve the 'American Dream'. I am in the rat race to make more and more money, because no matter how much you make them, it is never enough...

It is starting to feel like it is directly opposite of what I want to be involved in.

I know that the last 10 years have not been a waste; although I may feel as though I cheated my soul of valuable learning time, lesson WERE learned. Sometimes we have to travel through the forest and emerge from the other side before we can see the trees. I know that this may suffice for now; my soul may allow it to continue to enable me to support my family while my kids grow. But I can't help feeling that at some point I will find the time has come for the 'something more'.

"Daddy says I don't have to take that sh*t from no one!"

Here is the story behind probably my earliest memory...at least I *think* I remember it, but it may be one of those things that is more a 'memory' because the story has been told so many times :0) Either way, it's a cute story that I like...

So when I was little my dad started his auto repair business at home, and stayed home with my brother and I...I was always mature for my age, and dad would have me answer the phone for him while he was out in the garage working (this was before we had the extension in the garage). The story goes that a lot of times I had backwards numbers and letters, but when dad asked me what it was sposed to say, I could always tell him, and it was always right when he called the number! Most of the people who had dad do regular maintenance on their vehicles knew that I would answer the phone for dad when he was busy, and I would take a message, and that the message ALWAYS got to my dad, and so no one had a problem leaving a message with me.

One day, when I was 4 or 5 (my brother would have been in school all day at this point), he had to go up the back road for something (or something like that; I guess that part of the 'memory' is foggy), and told me to stay in the house, and if someone calls, to tell them he couldn't come to the phone right now and take a message.

When dad returns to the house, he finds me curled up in a ball, red eyed, wet cheeked and still sobbing...He asked me what was wrong, and I went on to tell him that "A mean man called and asked for my Dad and when I told him he couldn't come to the phone right now but could I take a message he yelled at me and told me if I don't put my daddy on the phone RIGHT NOW he was going to come over to my house and spank me".

Now, I don't remember my dad's reaction, but I know exactly what he looks like when he is really mad, and I am sure that I know EXACTLY what he looked like that day! He had this look he used to get in his eye, and that look was only ever directed at me once, when I was 18, and I made it very clear to him that he had better never aim that look at me ever again...I knew all to well what came after he got that look in his eye, but that is another post I am not ready to compose yet...

I do know that my dad didn't know for sure who it was, but I do know that he found out later and let the dude have it...I would not have wanted to be on the receiving end of THAT.

So when my mom got home that day, I told her right away about the mean man who called and told me to put my daddy on the phone or he was going to spank me, and I went on to tell her, with hands on hips of course, that "Daddy says I don't have to take that SHIT from no one!!"

It's still one of my favorite, and one of my few, good memories.

How I came to start a blog...

So, I got the idea to do this blog from my friend R...who rocks, BTW. She started one because writing has always been near and dear to her heart, and has helped her get through and sort through rocky times in the past, and she is hoping that it can do the same for her again.

We met for lunch a couple of weeks ago when we discovered we really needed a bit of each other's energy; we really needed to take a minute out of our busy lives and have some US time. Unfortunately, that is something that doesn't happen as often as we'd like, but luckily the foundation of our friendship is ROCK SOLID, baby, and we know that just because we don't see each other as often as we may like, we love each other no less, and that when needed, we are only a phone call away, with shoulders always ready to lean on.

So in the course of our lunch, we determined that we both are feeling a bit lost in our lives right now...both feeling like we are floundering a little, looking for something that we can't quite name; can't quite put our finger on. I am not sure that the something each of us are looking for is necessarily the same, but it is leaving us with a similar taste in our mouths. I know a lot of mine has to do with my spiritual journey; my journey away from the patriarchal religion of my childhood and onto something different that feels much more like HOME to me. It has to do with all of the doors that my journey is opening, and all of the questions that it is raising, and all of the unknowns that I am trying to make known. It would be easier if I could just feel HOME in that which I was raised, but I can't. But, I digress, that is another post all together.

R's life journey is currently presenting her with trials much different than those that I know in my adult life, but IMO it all boils down to the same thing in the long run; the lessons we are here to learn in this life...

So R tells me the other day that she has started a blog....getting back into writing hoping it will help her sort through everything. I asked her to send me the link, if she didn't mind. She did and I read it...

Gee, I thought, I think I may enjoy that too. I could use it right now as well. I too have a history with the written word; a rummage through my old 'treasure chest' will produce roughly a half a dozen notebook journals from my preteen and teen years, a time of much turmoil in my life. (I know that by no means do I hold the trademark on teenage turmoil.) But they are there, none the less...Writing helped me sort through a lot of stuff, and I just can't bring myself to throw them away, even though I feel weird reading back through them. I mostly just use them for date references when DH (dear hubby...'dear' used loosely sometimes!) insists that X happened before Y but after Z, and I need to prove him wrong.

So I have plenty of history and love of keeping a journal, and so I thought I would try this blog thing, and ya know what? It feels REALLY good. I composed my first post yesterday, and it felt SOO GOOD to put it all down on paper...err, um on computer, I guess, LOL. That is the one thing that is going to take a bit of getting used to, the idea that this is out there on the world wide web (hehehe) and that really anybody could 'potentially' see it, but I guess when you think about it, it is less scary then a paper diary, as those who are likely to stumble across a paper diary are more likely to be those that you DON'T want to see it, where those who stumble across this are more likely to be people I don't know and never will know...I also kinda miss the personal touch of actually writing in my own hand, but MAN typing is a lot easier and quicker!!! I haven't even told anyone about it yet, haven't given anyone the link...that may take awhile :0)

So, I started this blog as a place to record my thoughts and this journey that I am on. I actually named it after one of my old journals, a journal of poetry and thoughts that I started when I was 17 and encompasses only about 2 years of life. It was called "Me from the inside". It was pretty deep, lol. So I guess this is going to be an extension of that...only like 12 years later. If anyone is reading this, I hope you enjoy my random thoughts.