Memorial Day

Tonight I sat in bed giving Michael a bottle, my husband was sitting next to me and I was crying.  I was crying because I was so completely and entirely happy.  Sometimes it just blows me away that I get to be a part of something so completely perfect and complete.  

And then I cried because I was able to have this moment.  This time last year I was saying goodbye to my husband and I know that somewhere, some other military family is doing the same.  There are military families trying to keep things going and take care of each other while a loved one is deployed.  And there are military families who are struggling to deal with the injury or death of their loved one.  Those families won't get to have that moment I had tonight, some of them will never get to have those nights again.  

So tonight, as you enjoy your BBQs and lament the fact that you have to go to work tomorrow, please take a second to remember members of the military and their families.  

I'm pissed, God.

This is a post that has been brewing for awhile so bear with me.  It's more than likely not going to make much sense.

It all started because I've been thinking recently about a dear internet friend of mine who I met on a pregnancy loss message board.  In the past two + years she's had three losses and is now struggling to get pregnant period which in my mind is ridiculously, painfully unfair.  I don't get it. I don't understand how such an incredibly funny, loving and all around wonderful person has to go through such heartache.  

And then today I found out that another internet friend lost her son at 24.5 weeks gestation. She's also had multiple losses and a lot of personal turmoil recently and again I'm left wondering how the hell this works out.  How this person who has been so loving and so supportive to so many others going through a loss, pregnancy after a loss and the struggle of new mommyhood has this happen is beyond me.

And all this brings me back to faith.  Believe it or not, I'm a fairly religious person.  That's not to say that I am a saint or even that good of a person but I do believe in God and am a practicing Catholic.  I strongly believe in the idea of free will, that we choose the paths we take in life and God is there, loving and supporting us as we go.  He's there to celebrate with us when we have great joy and success, there to comfort us when we are struggling and patiently waits for us to come back when we head down the wrong path.  

But here is the thing, and why this post is titled "I'm pissed, God."  Because I am.  What is happening to these women, and others, isn't free will.  They didn't choose a path that allowed this to happen to them.  And while a part of my belief in free will is that sometimes bad, horrible things happen to good people and there is no reason for that.  God didn't make it happen and because of free will he doesn't stop it from happening; we aren't his puppets after all.  BUT, come on God,  sometimes you need to step up.  To intervene.  I see cases where you do all the time (if you've read Stellan's story it's obvious that God intervened in a big way) so why, why, why didn't you intervene here?

Is it some sort of test of faith?  For them?  For me?  Are you trying to make examples out of them?  Are you busy with other things?  Whatever it is, it's crap.  You heard me God.  This is a big fat bunch of crap.  And right now, I think you suck a little bit.  Or a lot.  

Just because I'm mad doesn't mean I am going to stop believing or stop having faith because I know the only thing that will help me to find peace, shit even some sort of acceptance would be a vast improvement at this point, is God.  But I am using my free will to be mad.  Hotel room wrecking mad in fact but the knowledge of my itty bitty bank account keeps me from doing that.  

And just for you, God, in case you need a reminder.  Maybe you should even right this down so you don't forget...

intervene - a: to come in or between by way of hindrance or modification <intervene to stop a fight> b: to interfere with the outcome or course especially of a condition or process (as to prevent harm or improve functioning)

Happy Mother's Day

On this day that is meant to celebrate motherhood, I want to take a moment to send my thoughts and prayers to those Mother's that people may not recognize as mothers.  Regardless of when these women lost their babies or if they are still struggling to get that first positive test, the love and strength they show each and every day inspires me to be a better Mom.  My prayers are with you so that next Mother's Day everyone else will see you as the amazing mothers I already know you are.

Told ya so

 See, I'm back.  For reals.

So where was I...Ah yes, the three month mark when I started to realize that I didn't just instinctively care for this little being but that I actually enjoyed his company.  Seriously, when he started smiling and cooing it was such a game changer.  It was sort of like putting $5 of gas in a car with the gas light on - just enough to keep me going until the next gas station.

So all of this started happening at right about three months which of course was right when I needed to start working again.  So the irony of it was that I spent a big chunk of my maternity leave looking forward to going back to the office (I was actually on email the day Michael was born *hangs head in shame*) but when the day finally came it was awful.  I was THAT Mom, sitting in the parking lot crying my eyes out and begging God to somehow drop a bag full of money in my lap so that I didn't have to work.

But as we all know, a) God has more important things to worry about than my temper tantrum and request for bags of money and b) he knows much better than I do so the money never appeared and back to work 40+ hours a week I went.  Do I love my job?  No.  But I do love my son, and deep down I know that being away from him for 8 hours a day makes me a better parent because I have more reserves to deal with his crankiness, getting into everything etc than I would if I had to deal with it all day everyday.  I don't know how SAHMs do it day in and day out.  

Of course, going back to work means getting back on the road so I've spent the past 10 days in Colorado Springs, CO.  And I survived.  Barely.  Michael has been home with his  Dad and I am one lucky, lucky girl to have a man like Michael's Dad in my life.  Seriously.  This guy was a full time single parent for 10 days after about 4 days of baby boot camp and he managed to survive a round trip drive from VA to NJ with a stop in Philly, a fever that wouldn't go away, an ER trip, a doctor's office visit, a heat wave and still managed to do laundry and run the vacuum at least once that I know of.  Do I need to say anymore for you to understand why I love this guy so much?

And I guess that you all (ok, ok both of you) have figured out that DH has returned from Iraq and is home with his family.  I promise next time I'll blog all about that, which will just give me the chance to gush all the more about how incredibly, ridiculously, disgustingly, over the top in love I am with this guy and how I am beyond lucky that he is my baby daddy.  But for now, I need to go and pack my suitcase so that in 16 hours I can be landing back in VA and get those boys of mine back in my arms.

I mean it this time

So about a month ago I said that I was back.  And then I went away.  But I'm back again and this time I mean it.  At least I intend to mean it.

Anyway, I guess I should get you all caught (ok more like both of you) caught up on me.  My last posts were in September...so since then, I had a baby.  Which is really great considering I was still pregnant and more than a little scared back then.  The rest of my pregnancy was uneventful.  I had a shower thanks to some wonderful friends in VA, got things ready and ended up going in for an induction on November 17, 2008.  A relatively short 13 hours later, I was staring into the eyes of my goo covered, pissed off son.  

I suppose this would be a good place to write down every detail of Michael's birth so I won't ever forget it but in all honesty I'm just not that type of blogger/person.  I had my son, some details remain (painfully) fresh and others are starting to fade.  In a way I think that is the natural order of things - I don't want to spend my time trying to record every moment with Michael so I won't forget it.  I want to spend my time enjoying those moments with him.

I will say that mother-hood has been life altering but not in the Lifetime movie sort of way I imagined.  I admit that when he was screaming his goo covered little head off in my face I wasn't overwhelmed with love or crying with joy.  I was just stunned.  It took a few hours and some kangaroo care to finally look at him and say to myself "oh, thats right.  I had a baby, this is him.  He's nice enough, guess I'll keep him."  I didn't love him with an all consuming passion the moment he was born - there was a very instinctual need to care for him and I did love him but it wasn't this amazing life altering moment like so many new Mom's describe.  

And let me just interject here and say that I love Michael.  Love, love, love him but it was a process and I don't think enough people say that.  People would ask and I would tell them that I loved him more than anything, and I did and I would have done anything for him.  But it wasn't this blissful lovefest that so many people seem to expect it to be.  There was lots of screaming (mostly him) and crying (probably a tie) those first few weeks.  And lots of doubt and thoughts of what the hell was I thinking.  And yes, I said I.  My poor deployed husband was so far out of my thoughts at that point in time that I all but forgot about him at times until he called.  

But things slowly started to get better.  It takes a while but eventually Michael went from being a soul sucking leach (ok, maybe that is a bit much) to a person.  A person who I loved and started to like being around.  For me it was at about 3 months when I realized that I liked being around Michael more than anyone else and that those feelings were only growing.

So in order to prevent this from becoming the blog post of all blog posts and to make sure that I have more to blog about tomorrow I am going to end here.

Seriously, I'm back this time.  Cross my heart.

I'm back.

Yeah, so. Ummmm...hi.

The problem with blogging is that when you go a way for a long time its hard to come back and then when you do its hard to figure out what to say. So then you put it off, which just makes it harder and so and so on.

So where to start. I guess saying that Michael has arrived and is four months old today is a good place. He is my greatest joy and blessing. There aren't words for what I feel, how to explain my emotions but I am going to work on that because I want to put it into words.

But its late, and I need to get to bed. I'll be back though. Honestly.

September 21, 2008

So I decided that now would be a good time to finish my "How I Met Your Father" post so that I don't have to think about other things.

So my BF and I got in her car and began to drive back to PA. The ride started out by laughing at TSM and how ridiculous he was and then I started to get a little sappy about him, how he seemed like a really great guy and that he really seemed interested in getting to know me. I of course then had to change the subject because I felt this strange warm fuzzy feeling about this guy starting to grow.

TSM was not easily deterred. He called his friend, who called BF who gave him my email to give to TSM. Apparently he then pulled together a bunch of his Marine buddies and took about 3 days to write a four line email that would show he was interested but not make him look needy. I have to admit I was impressed, so he finally got my number and we started talking pretty much everyday. A few weeks later he came up to see me and took me on a date - a real live actual date that ended with a kiss and him leaving me at the door because he "wanted to do things right this time."

So what is a damaged, commitment phobic girl to do when Mr Wonderful walks into her life? Why of course I found another guy who as one of my friends put it was a "fixer-upper." Seriously, if you ever want to see what he looks like look up loser in Websters dictionary and there is actually a picture of him. And of course I decide that this guy was a much better match for me than TSM because I never wanted to be involved with someone in the military (oh the irony of this statement now). Of course another friend was probably slightly more on the mark when she hypothesised that I avoided any relationships that had a future because I was afraid of getting hurt again.

So as hard as I tried, TSM would not give up on me. So when it became clear that just not talking to him anymore wasn't going to make him go away, I realized that I actually had to call and break up with this guy. This lead to another classic Erin-ism: The Plant Plan. I explained to him that while I enjoyed spending time with him, we were getting a little too relationshippy for me and that I simply couldn't be in a relationship with someone until I was able to keep a plant alive for six months. We get off the phone and I pat myself on the back for doing the right thing.

The next day I got a plant. Not just any plant mind you, a large green and white house plant with a note that said "I'll wait as long as it takes" Me being me, immediately calls BF and mocks the plant, throws away the note and sticks the plant on a window seat in my room, behind the door. This was in November and I can say that I completely forgot about said plant almost instantly.

The months go on, loser-guy got more loserish and further convinced me that normal healthy relationships only existed in moves and on tv. To his credit, TSM gave me some space for a few weeks and then we started chatting online here and there. I always enjoyed talking to him but I kept reminding myself that I didn't want to be involved with someone in the military. I got a job down in DC, packed my things and moved South. The relationship with loser was well on its way to ending so I was just waiting that out before moving on to conquer a whole new city.

Then I heard that TSM was going to Iraq. This was early 2003, just as the war was starting. He was the first person that I really knew who was going to be in a real war and the feelings I had were confusing. I was feeling so much at one time, that I didn't quite know how to process it all. We talked a little bit, enough for me to get his address because I told him that I would write and send care packages but I still I felt like there was so much more that needed to be said.

A few days later my Mom called and asked if I wanted the plant that was on my window seat. My part of the conversations went something like this: Plant? What plant? Oh that plant. Isn't it dead? No? Seriously. Are you sure? Like its still alive? Wow. I gotta go.

I packed a bag, got in my car and started driving from VA to Northern NJ in the middle of a snow storm. I called BF and got directions to TSMs fraternity house (I knew he was there that weekend for a going away party) and then I called loser-guy and ended it. Many, many hours later I found myself standing at the door of the fraternity, in the middle of a storm with no idea what to do next. I was literally about to walk away when someone opened the door to come out for a cigarette and found me there. He asked if he could help me, I said that I was there for TSMs going away party and with that I was invited in with a loud yell of "TSM, some girl is here for you!"

I don't know who was more stunned when he finally came down the stairs. He put his arms around me, kissed me and I knew at that moment I was pretty much done. He told me he understood how I felt and that he couldn't offer me anything since he was about to leave for a then undetermined period of time but that he wanted to spend as much of the time as he had left in the US with me. It took me less than a week to come out and tell him that I love him; he one upped me by telling me he had loved me since the day I came up with the Plant Plan.

Three and a half years of dating, three dead fish, five apartments in VA, three in NJ, two dogs, two deployments, almost two years of marriage, a miscarriage, a college graduation and baby boy due in November later the slutty emotionally damaged girl and the Marine that pukes off the side of a boat are still together. We're apart again for another deployment (this is number three if you are counting) but with all the things there are to be afraid of, we're nowhere near as afraid of it as we should be because we are together and we figure we'll get through it somehow.

And that plant? It's still growing