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Sunday, March 17, 2013

Those life- Altering slices of life...

first posted in June....





My second born, my only daughter, my Heather......

Heather has always been......

A whirlwind of stubbornness, strength, pure will, and impish good cheer..........

Heather entered the world on a crest of noise and enthusiasm.......

and she never stopped for 16 years......

She was an energetic bundle of constant noise and motion.............

until November 1, 2004...............

I'd had one of those horrifying, heart- stopping, before dawn, phone calls.......

I heard words like: "Head Injury", "Airlifted To The Hospital", "You need to come"...... and......

"We don't know"................

Don't know...............

There are some words you never want to hear when it's your child........

"Don't Know", is definitely in the top 3............

"Don't Know", began one of the longest journey's I ever experienced as a mother............

"Don't Know", became a mantra, a prayer, a scream........

"Don't Know", does not begin to prepare you for the sight of your beautiful child hooked up to machines........

"Don't Know" is cold comfort in a pediatric ICU......

But sometimes.......

Sometimes, "Don't Know" is all we have to hang onto to...........


While the rest of the world goes on around you......


and you're caught in the limbo of: "Don't know".....


You still manage to revel in the small things......

The smell of the apple shampoo, and the feel of the terrycloth towel, as the nurse and I washed my baby's hair on the third day.......

the feel of her silky, sweet hair, between my fingertips, as I brushed her hair out into a fan on the pillow......

My little "Sleeping Beauty"...........

and somewhere along the way.....

"Please", joins "Don't Know", in your prayers, and the cries at 2 Am, when no one else can see...............

"Please" joins endless talk, and rounds of song.........


"Please" , follows you around the corridors of the hospital, corridors that you hate...... but have somehow memorized.......

It follows you onto the elevators.........

Where you try not to make eye contact with all the happy people going upstairs to look at the new babies.....

It follows you into the cafeteria.........

and sits with you at the table.........

staring at a plateful of food that you won't eat..........

"Please", holds you prisoner with it's promise of hope......

you want to turn your back on "Please", the day you see the feeding tube come in.........


When you're brought to your knees, by a small piece of rubber.......

When the dam breaks, and you're not just crying.... you're screaming in a stranger's arms.......

You want to walk away from "Please"..........

forever...........

But you can't.......

Because "Please", is what you're stuck with.......

"Please" is the only thing keeping it all together......


keeping hope alive.....

not just for yourself, but more importantly for your daughter........

and so you get off your knees.......

and introduce "Please" to "Defiance".......


You're reminded of the first time your baby girl came home in tears.......

You thought you knew the meaning of "True Helplessness".........

As you wanted to go beat up someone else's 5 year old......

Turns out.......

You didn't know a thing.....

and now the bully was back....

only instead of taking the shape of a 5 year old, in desperate need of a lesson in sharing......

This bully had chosen the more formidable form of "Brain Injury".........

If you're watching a bad "Lifetime" movie, "Brain Injury" makes for a semi - entertaining couple of hours.......

It gets you away from the laundry and dishes you don't want to do, anyway.......

The heroine/hero suddenly sits up and asks for a cheeseburger...... you get the happy ending...... and you go back to the laundry........

In real life "Brain Injury" is a bitch.........

You want to grab her, and pull her hair out by the roots....


The slowness with which she moves makes you want to scream until you're hoarse.......

Makes you long for the days of the 3 year old, who insists upon putting on her own shoes......

even though you're 10 minutes late to the pediatrician's office........

and your one year old wants to be naked......

even though you've explained to him.... ( semi-patiently) no less than 5 times........

that if his sister ever manages to get the shoe anywhere near the general vicinity of her foot.....

that you'll be going OUTSIDE!!!! ( where it's 8 degrees..... and clothes aren't just a fashion suggestion.... they're a necessity......)

and you think that you know it all.....

watching your 3 year old with the shoe.......

THIS is as slow as time can possibly move.......

Think again......

you know NOTHING......

sit down with "Brain Injury" for awhile......


remember slammed doors, and all the times you forced her to eat her vegetables, even though she assured you it may kill her........

for that, you were willing to take your chances......

"Bargaining" is now holding your hand..........

Your new best friend..........

maybe your only friend..........

You remember the times she screamed: "I hate you"..... and you'd think to yourself.......

"I'm not that fond of you either right now, kiddo".......

You'd give up the rest of your life just to hear one more, "I hate You".............


You remember a scene in Wal Mart ( of all places)
just a couple of months before.....

When your precious 16 year old wasn't getting her own way......

I don't care what anyone says.......

There is nothing uglier than a 16 year old girl not getting her way......

and you question your views on birth control, as your little princess informs not only you, but everyone else standing around in "House wares", that she has gone and had her belly button pierced.......

and there's: "Nothing you can do about it....... so there".......

yeah......

The stretch marks, and morning sickness????

so totally NOT worth it in that moment........

But "Bargaining", forces your hand.........

and you find yourself promising your daughter that she can have anything she wants pierced.........

you'll take her yourself.......

you'll get something pierced yourself....

if she'll only open her eyes.........

Give you just one more chance to be the better mother you know you can be........

"Brain Injury" moves in stages...........

You're given glimpses of this thing called "Hope".....

Glimpses, as your daughter begins answering you....

she might have an entire conversation one day....

Here's the other thing about a 16 year old girl........

No coma in the world is strong enough to keep them away from their first love..... the phone.......

my Heather came back slowly.............

she re-learned her "Baby Steps"............

re-learned how to brush her teeth........

and comb her hair.......

all with her eyes shut..........

I learned that you find hero's in the most unexpected places......

In a nurses touch........

In a Doctor's grin.....

and in your 16 year old as she walks down the hallway...... with her eyes still shut............

Our children are entrusted to us, for just a short amount of time.......

and in that time.....

we're supposed to teach them something about the world........

I'm not sure of the things I taught Heather........

( besides Wal Mart is NOT a good place to break bad news to mommy...)

But I know she taught me patience in those weeks.......

she taught me that anything worth having.....

is worth fighting like hell for........

Was I too selfish for wanting to gaze into those bright blue eyes again???

Maybe........

But thanks to the weeks spent with: "Don't Know", "Please", "Defiance", "Brain Injury", "Bargaining", and "Hope"............

I felt a little entitled.........

and than "Miracle" walked in the door........

It came in on a rainy, cold, evening.......

as the nurse and I were sitting Heather up to transfer her to a chair........

I was talking to Heather, saying: "Heather, It's Mama.... we're going to sit you in the chair for your supper... You're GOING TO EAT YOUR SUPPER"!!!

I was being very forceful.... because I really wanted her to eat... so we could get rid of the feeding tube......

Ironically......

I wasn't thinking of her opening her eyes.......

and that's when "Miracle" took us in it's arms............

Heather opened her eyes.........

The air left the room, and something grabbed me between my stomach and heart.......

It may have been "Belief"..........

because as my daughter and I looked into each other's faces for the first time in weeks...........

we shared a moment more profound, stronger even,
than the one we'd shared on the evening of her birth...

Heather was being born to me again in that moment.....

and as she looked at me, recognition lighting up her face........

it was as if she'd only been having a nap......

as she simply said: "Hi, Mama"............

there was only one thing I could say around the tears....

"Hi, baby...... Welcome Back"............

Today, Heather is a healthy, happy, 22 year old......

who doesn't like naps......

To be continued.....

because, that, is what life is all about......


Janine
"That which does not kill me,
had better run pretty damn fast".
~Author Unknown~

"I enjoy being a girl"...... Part Two.......




Dear, Uterus...........



Make up your ever loving mind........

Are we gonna close the menopause deal, making you obsolete???

You've been with the company for 44 years now, and put in 32 years of dedicated service....

My babies were certainly the worst tenants in the history of the world......

You weren't initiated on soft butterfly flutters..........

There were no gentle nudges for you......

The babies made by Janine...

( Yes, ALONE.......... Mary really started something with that immaculate conception business.... I'm surprised it never caught on more, really.....)

Regardless.....

The babies made by Janine... ( okay, and what's his face, too)

They never kicked......

They jumped.........

They stomped..........

They gyrated.........

Simple kicking was beneath them..........

My children were gifted, right from the womb........

this may have resulted in your every available surface looking like Swiss cheese......

one kind doctor described you as "Tired" and "Needing A rest".......

Meanwhile, I was the one walking the floor with an 8 day old baby with colic.....

while my 4 year old, and 2 year old were trying to out scream each other underneath my feet.....

I didn't own a pair of sweats that wasn't covered in some sort of child body fluid.....

I still looked 6 months pregnant........

I got the hemorrhoids, stretch marks, and labor pains.......

Here's a news flash for you.........

"Tired" goes away........

Hemorrhoids are for forever........

What was I to do???

Send you to Hawaii????

Not alone, buddy.......

And I had the aforementioned 8 day old, who was only happy when he was using me as a giant spit up cloth.......

The 2 year old who was only happy when she was wrapped around my knee, or on my one free hip.....

When asked what she thought of her baby brother, she'd reply......

"No like"..........

Obviously, I never consulted her again.......

The 4 year old was amusing himself........

looking through the personals for an adoptive family.......

Have I mentioned the roughly 723 stitches in the area south of the belly button???

The place where people SIT????

Try sitting down on Styrofoam for two weeks........

What's that????

So, Why do it????

For the stomps......

The stomps that told me all was right......

The stomps that woke me in the middle of the night.....

or caught me , unaware, in the middle of a bad day......

The stomps that reminded me that it was no longer all about me.......

For the bittersweet, and very physical, primal, feeling of my child leaving my body.......

of watching as they began the act of living on their own...........

For those moments at 3 Am, when the rest of the world was sleeping, and it was just me, a chair, and 8 plus pounds of baby.........

for the feeling of running my finger across a petal smooth cheek......

As I gently sang "Puff The Magic Dragon"....... ( off key, all the way...)

As my new baby gazed at me with a face that might have been colic......

but was more likely the singing......

you don't need a translator for: "Uh.... Mom???? has anyone ever mentioned the fact that you can't sing"?????

The feeling of an impossibly tiny hand grasping my finger with the grip of a wrestler........

the vibration through my fingers laid on a tiny back, of a newborns steady breath......

The new smell at the back of a baby's neck......

The feel of a baby's fingers across my mouth, in the first successful reach for a human face......

The sound of a first belly laugh............

The music of a first: "Ma, Ma, Ma".......

The look in a six year old eyes, as he gazes into my face waiting for the answer to:

"Mama..... How do the clouds stay in the sky"??

Dear, Uterus.........

I don't think it's politically correct to say that my children fulfilled me as a woman............

I do think it's fair to say that they fulfilled parts of me........

Some of my favorite parts have been colored in with sticky little hands......

The work that you and I ( and, oh yeah..... what's his face) did together made my children possible.........

Dear, Uterus.....

I'm going to miss you.......

"I don't know nothing bout birthin' no babies"!!!!!!

Heather and Adam have decided that "THEY" are going to have natural childbirth.......

( They are very much a "We" couple.... They are "We're pregnant", people....... please don't take this wrong.... I don't mean to downplay my son in laws involvement, and he's been beyond wonderful with Heather........ and the "We're" pregnant concept is......... cute. I just hope I get to be there when "THEY" try breastfeeding the first time

They are having a natural birth...........

Unmedicated.......

( ewww )

As my presence has been requested at the birth, I'm wondering.........

Since Heather won't be using the epidural.......

Do you think they'd give it to me??????

I am from the "Old School" of childbirth........

Epidurals were not encouraged....... ( Heather reminds me that I had babies in the days of the dinosaur...... so they probably hadn't been invented yet)

"Natural" childbirth was less choice, and more mandatory.........


I am convinced to this day that gas masks in the delivery room were abolished by a man..........

I don't do birth well..............

My husband and I were not a "WE" couple

I gave birth, and he sat in the stadium and kept score............

"Jay.......... JAY........... You have to see this one.......... it's a really big one"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

uh huh

"Come on, Jay........ the doctor says we have to do the breathing".........

Never being much for team sports, and not feeling particularly obedient, I replied:

"Than go have the baby with the damn doctor, and leave me the eff alone....... where are my clothes???? I'm going home".........

and than I may have called him an effing something or other, AND compared a couple of his favorite body parts to the "Munchkins" from the "Wizard Of Oz".........

but it's hazy......

I was having one of those ( mostly) unmedicated births.....

He tried ( bless him) to convince the nurse that I needed a spinal, the doctor, and an exorcist........

because: "You don't understand........ she doesn't talk like this........ there's something wrong".....

Nurse Cratchet was unmoved, as she assured him I was "Just" giving birth..... and than in a move she must have picked up at "Clara Barton's" finishing school for the compassionate nurses across America.... she mumbled.....

"If you think this is good, wait an hour".............

We got older, we got slightly better.........

He learned when he wasn't wanted.........

During the birth of baby number 3, I requested a pepsi.......

They sent a sweet faced student nurse in with ice chips......

ICE. CHIPS.

Not feeling shy I told the sweet child where she could put her ice chips.....

My husband piped up happily from the safety of his spot behind a newspaper.....

"Oh, yeah...... I meant to tell you........ you can't talk to her during a contraction"...........

that's basically me........ as the participant in unmedicated birth........

I tried it as a spectator a few years ago.....

A friend became pregnant and asked another friend and I to stand in as birth coaches........

she gave birth at around 4:45...............

AM.

Yeah.

my eyes were still shut, I was trying to grab a nap, she was screaming for drugs, and water, the other "Coach" was saying something like "There. there"....... and the doctor was announcing: "I think I feel a butt"....................

alrighty than..............

Now I'm awake against my will.........

and ticked off................. ( not a good combo )

I want to reach across my screaming friend, and grab this doctor by the first body part I find, and ask him which cereal box he found his degree in.......

but I see the look on his face....... and on the nurses faces..............

I know the baby has to be born...... fast.

His mother still wants drugs ....( they don't make enough for this situation) and water......... ( which some sadist decided was against the rules..... without checking with me)

So I did the only thing a good friend could do.........

I leaned down into her face and said:

"You can't have drugs....... it's too late....... You're going to look at me, and only at me, you're going to breathe, and you're going to have this baby........ RIGHT NOW!!!! and when it's all over you can take me into the parking lot, and beat the shit out of me..... but right now.... you're going to PUSH!!!!! Go, go, go"!!!!!!!!

and that's how her breech son came into the world..............

across his mother's cries, and my cheerleader shouts..............

It was both horrible, and beautiful.............

It was bloody.......

It was loud...........

It was like going 90 miles an hour over a mountain..........

It was everything scary and right about the world......... all at once............

It was life.

Unmedicated.

Cover The Kiddies Eyes....

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