When I was out here the other day, I noticed that I hadn't written anything since my dad's birthday in March and I felt a little sorry for my poor neglected blog. I looked over at my list of posts and the number is smaller than ever! I enjoy writing. It's a lot more fun now that I'm a grown up and I don't get graded on my work!
I don't remember what I was searching for on a work related project but, I came across an ad about writing challenges for blogs and I clicked over to check them out. I've tried these before and I have always pooped out but, this time The Alphabet Challenge intrigued me.
Starting May 1, I will be writing a post a day based on letters of the alphabet. I posted this to my Facebook page as well, looking for ideas/prompts for each letter. If you have any ideas, please submit them to me. For instance A - apple and I will write a memory or something about apples. And sadly, I have to say this - this is not a "let's stump her" type of suggestion. It's meant to trigger a memory or a thought to expand on, to tell a story. Play nice, okay?
** I have all the slots filled!
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Propaganda
**Warning: I am about to discuss a couple of VERY controversial topics and let me just say that we are each entitled to our own opinions. I am not trying to sway or convert anyone and I appreciate the same respect. I have closed comments to this post and for those of you reading, you should have access to both my email and my Facebook, you may message me.
Jeremy and I have enjoyed watching both Fireproof, Courageous, and I fully intend to watch October Baby as soon as it is released to DVD. Both Jeremy and I have shared our thoughts on both Fireproof and Courageous as well as many other films by Sherwood Pictures. We had mentioned this to an acquaintance of ours and she offered a movie to us. Jeremy finally brought it home last night. Agenda: Grinding America Down. And let me tell you - I FREAKING FREAKED over this movie. I was PISSED beyond belief.
Okay - I believe there is corruption in our government, in America. I believe it has always has been from the beginning of both. I don't believe it is any one person or group, I believe is it government in general. And, I as one cannot change it. I can cast my vote but, in reality that is truly all I can do. All I am willing to do.
It wasn't this movie that wound me up though. It was a small scrap of paper inserted in the sleeve sending me to another website for the 180 movie documentary. I included the link - watch it if you like.
I, a woman who is not capable, not able to bear children. I have experienced more miscarriages than you or I could ever count. And maybe even more. I don't know the true number. I don't want to.
I believe, or admit - to me, every miscarriage was a child.
I cannot dwell on my miscarriages as children or I will not be able to function.
I believe God had/has a plan for me and my children.
I believe in adoption.
I am the parent to a child whose mother contemplated abortion.
I am the child of a mother who 38 years ago seriously considered abortion. I have known this for all of my life. I completely understand my mother's reasoning and my mother's choice. I have never been angry with her for being honest. I understood that is wasn't me - as a person - that she didn't want, it was another child.
That said - I. I am pro-choice. I believe that a woman should have the choice as to what happens in or to her body.
Now that said, maybe because of my losses, I have my belief as to when life begins. I have to say I believe there should be a limit on when abortion should or should not be done. In MY experience, I can't consider my losses as children - they didn't have a face, I don't believe they had a soul, I had no flutters, there was no movement, no bond, and except for one - I didn't even know they were there. Had it been different, I may think differently.
I am pro-choice but, I know if I were in my mother's shoes, I would make the same choice she made because I would not be able to live with myself or my choice.
If I were raped, you ask? I can't answer that. I can't make that decision not being in the situation but, I'd like to know I have the choice. I can't say I could raise that child, I can't say I'd want that child to come to find me one day. I simply do not know.
I am pro-choice. You won't sway me. You won't change my mind. Even with your movies or your signs.
I believe in birth control. I believe a woman should be able to prevent unwanted pregnancy. I do NOT believe in abortion as a FORM of birth control.
But, the biggest thing I do believe in IS CHOICE. I don't believe in trickery. I don't believe in propaganda or agenda, and I certainly don't believe it is up to someone else to force their beliefs or their religion down my throat.
I believe in CHOICE. Plain and simple.
Jeremy and I have enjoyed watching both Fireproof, Courageous, and I fully intend to watch October Baby as soon as it is released to DVD. Both Jeremy and I have shared our thoughts on both Fireproof and Courageous as well as many other films by Sherwood Pictures. We had mentioned this to an acquaintance of ours and she offered a movie to us. Jeremy finally brought it home last night. Agenda: Grinding America Down. And let me tell you - I FREAKING FREAKED over this movie. I was PISSED beyond belief.
Okay - I believe there is corruption in our government, in America. I believe it has always has been from the beginning of both. I don't believe it is any one person or group, I believe is it government in general. And, I as one cannot change it. I can cast my vote but, in reality that is truly all I can do. All I am willing to do.
It wasn't this movie that wound me up though. It was a small scrap of paper inserted in the sleeve sending me to another website for the 180 movie documentary. I included the link - watch it if you like.
I, a woman who is not capable, not able to bear children. I have experienced more miscarriages than you or I could ever count. And maybe even more. I don't know the true number. I don't want to.
I believe, or admit - to me, every miscarriage was a child.
I cannot dwell on my miscarriages as children or I will not be able to function.
I believe God had/has a plan for me and my children.
I believe in adoption.
I am the parent to a child whose mother contemplated abortion.
I am the child of a mother who 38 years ago seriously considered abortion. I have known this for all of my life. I completely understand my mother's reasoning and my mother's choice. I have never been angry with her for being honest. I understood that is wasn't me - as a person - that she didn't want, it was another child.
That said - I. I am pro-choice. I believe that a woman should have the choice as to what happens in or to her body.
Now that said, maybe because of my losses, I have my belief as to when life begins. I have to say I believe there should be a limit on when abortion should or should not be done. In MY experience, I can't consider my losses as children - they didn't have a face, I don't believe they had a soul, I had no flutters, there was no movement, no bond, and except for one - I didn't even know they were there. Had it been different, I may think differently.
I am pro-choice but, I know if I were in my mother's shoes, I would make the same choice she made because I would not be able to live with myself or my choice.
If I were raped, you ask? I can't answer that. I can't make that decision not being in the situation but, I'd like to know I have the choice. I can't say I could raise that child, I can't say I'd want that child to come to find me one day. I simply do not know.
I am pro-choice. You won't sway me. You won't change my mind. Even with your movies or your signs.
I believe in birth control. I believe a woman should be able to prevent unwanted pregnancy. I do NOT believe in abortion as a FORM of birth control.
But, the biggest thing I do believe in IS CHOICE. I don't believe in trickery. I don't believe in propaganda or agenda, and I certainly don't believe it is up to someone else to force their beliefs or their religion down my throat.
I believe in CHOICE. Plain and simple.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
On the Eve
I'm sitting here at our dining room table, Jacob and I have just finished dinner - chicken nuggets for him, a burger for me and for brown dog. You're not here again and I've gotten used to it. Most times, I don't really mind. It helps the times when you are here to mean more. Jacob went out to play with his friend. Now, I'm alone and I keep looking around this house, our house and I can't help but look back and think...
10 years ago, this house was a blank canvas. Just waiting for me to put my touches on it and make it ours.
10 years ago, I had so much work to do on this house, I'd stay up until all hours.
10 years ago, I would wait up for you to come home at all hours.
10 years ago, I could sleep the day away if I wanted.
10 years ago, I could sleep past 7AM (my internal clock has changed, it's no longer possible).
10 years ago, we didn't have this furniture.
10 years ago, all of these walls were painted almost white. And we had pom-pom curtains.
10 years ago, I didn't think the pom-pom curtains would fall apart in the washer.
10 years ago, you made me promise not to wash any more curtains unless we had money to replace them!
10 years ago, we had orange carpet.
10 years ago, we realized there was at least 20 years of dirt under that orange carpet!
10 years ago, we found out the carpet in the living room wasn't easy to replace.
10 years ago, we hadn't planned to wait 10 years to carpet the living room.
10 years ago, we picked wallpaper off of almost every wall.
10 years ago, we swore off wallpaper - forever!
10 years ago, we got our first pet.
10 years ago, I never thought I'd cry so hard when we had to put our first pet to sleep.
10 years ago, I thought only a freak would cry in bar over a dead cat.
10 years ago, I never thought you'd be there for me while I cried over our dead cat.
10 years ago, we felt so alone in this town.
10 years ago, I couldn't tell you the names of the folks in the houses next to us.
10 years ago, I thought we'd never get to know our neighbors.
10 years ago, I longed for the day when I'd be out and see people we know.
10 years ago, I never thought I'd pray for the day when I didn't see anyone we knew.
10 years ago, we had so many dreams.
10 years ago, I didn't realize how much our dreams would change.
10 years ago, we talked about having kids and starting our family.
10 years ago, I never would have thought we couldn't conceive a child.
10 years ago, I didn't know not being able to conceive a child would be pure hell.
10 years ago, I never imagined that hell could control so much for so long.
10 years ago, I never thought our family would grow by adoption.
10 years ago, I never thought I could love a child this much.
10 years ago, I didn't know our entire police force by name (first and last).
10 years ago, I never thought I'd be chasing our police force!
10 years ago, I was just learning not to head for the door when I heard fire engines.
10 years ago, I never thought we'd struggle with our faith.
10 years ago, I never thought my faith could be any stronger.
10 years ago, I thought this marriage thing was going to be as easy as apple crisp. (I can't make pie).
10 years ago, I didn't know this marriage thing would be one of the toughest things I've ever done.
10 years ago, I thought I had THE best friends.
10 years ago, I knew you were THE ONE.
10 years ago, I didn't know you were going to be my best friend.
10 years ago, I married my best friend.
10 years ago, I married you.
Happy 10th Anniversary, Jeremy. The first 10 years have been tough and we have overcome some major roadblocks only to come out on the other side stronger than we ever thought we could be. At times, it seemed we were always going against each other and now that we have finally learned to work together, I think we just might have this marriage thing figured out. Like I said, the last 10 years have been tough but, I wouldn't want to have spent them with anyone else. I'm glad we made it through the last 10 so the next 10 can be even better!
Thank you for loving me and as always, I'm glad it was you.
10 years ago, this house was a blank canvas. Just waiting for me to put my touches on it and make it ours.
10 years ago, I had so much work to do on this house, I'd stay up until all hours.
10 years ago, I would wait up for you to come home at all hours.
10 years ago, I could sleep the day away if I wanted.
10 years ago, I could sleep past 7AM (my internal clock has changed, it's no longer possible).
10 years ago, we didn't have this furniture.
10 years ago, all of these walls were painted almost white. And we had pom-pom curtains.
10 years ago, I didn't think the pom-pom curtains would fall apart in the washer.
10 years ago, you made me promise not to wash any more curtains unless we had money to replace them!
10 years ago, we had orange carpet.
10 years ago, we realized there was at least 20 years of dirt under that orange carpet!
10 years ago, we found out the carpet in the living room wasn't easy to replace.
10 years ago, we hadn't planned to wait 10 years to carpet the living room.
10 years ago, we picked wallpaper off of almost every wall.
10 years ago, we swore off wallpaper - forever!
10 years ago, we got our first pet.
10 years ago, I never thought I'd cry so hard when we had to put our first pet to sleep.
10 years ago, I thought only a freak would cry in bar over a dead cat.
10 years ago, I never thought you'd be there for me while I cried over our dead cat.
10 years ago, we felt so alone in this town.
10 years ago, I couldn't tell you the names of the folks in the houses next to us.
10 years ago, I thought we'd never get to know our neighbors.
10 years ago, I longed for the day when I'd be out and see people we know.
10 years ago, I never thought I'd pray for the day when I didn't see anyone we knew.
10 years ago, we had so many dreams.
10 years ago, I didn't realize how much our dreams would change.
10 years ago, we talked about having kids and starting our family.
10 years ago, I never would have thought we couldn't conceive a child.
10 years ago, I didn't know not being able to conceive a child would be pure hell.
10 years ago, I never imagined that hell could control so much for so long.
10 years ago, I never thought our family would grow by adoption.
10 years ago, I never thought I could love a child this much.
10 years ago, I didn't know our entire police force by name (first and last).
10 years ago, I never thought I'd be chasing our police force!
10 years ago, I was just learning not to head for the door when I heard fire engines.
10 years ago, I never thought we'd struggle with our faith.
10 years ago, I never thought my faith could be any stronger.
10 years ago, I thought this marriage thing was going to be as easy as apple crisp. (I can't make pie).
10 years ago, I didn't know this marriage thing would be one of the toughest things I've ever done.
10 years ago, I thought I had THE best friends.
10 years ago, I knew you were THE ONE.
10 years ago, I didn't know you were going to be my best friend.
10 years ago, I married my best friend.
10 years ago, I married you.
Happy 10th Anniversary, Jeremy. The first 10 years have been tough and we have overcome some major roadblocks only to come out on the other side stronger than we ever thought we could be. At times, it seemed we were always going against each other and now that we have finally learned to work together, I think we just might have this marriage thing figured out. Like I said, the last 10 years have been tough but, I wouldn't want to have spent them with anyone else. I'm glad we made it through the last 10 so the next 10 can be even better!
Thank you for loving me and as always, I'm glad it was you.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Happy Birthday, Dad!
My Dad
As Jacob gets older, I wish more and more for my dad. I wish he was here to see this amazing child, to feel his heart. I would love nothing more than to see Jacob snuggled in with my dad telling him all about the police cars, the fire trucks, the airplanes and I know my dad would cherish every moment. Mostly though, I wish just to hear my dad laugh one more time. To see him smile with that twinkle in his eyes, to see him beaming with pride for us, his family. I miss him.
Happy Birthday, Dad! Happy Birthday Grandpa Web!
Church Home
I have been struggling for so many moons to get back to church, a church we like, that likes us, is kid friendly, not old, not liberal, not conservative, not right/left wing, not formal, not too informal, obviously looking for the perfect balance. Insert laugh track here.
Okay, I admit it. I'm old school when it comes to church. I really want the boring, hard core, traditional Lutheran service that I grew up with where I know how it works, I know all of the people, and I know all the words. I've been holding out for that church. Well, I can tell you, that church, no longer exists!
I have said this before, I am a baptized Lutheran. My dad chose it, and leaving it is not an option for me.
I've been depressed with our local church for some time. I can't make it a secret. I really was. The thought of walking in the door made me wish I had a script for Xanax! In the beginning, I enjoyed the time we spent there, I met wonderful people. But, 1 - There is no life there. It's OLD. 2 - there aren't many kids (ie: no kids programs). 3 - It's always the same people that volunteer for the same things but, if you volunteer, you have to do it the same way they have always done. 4 - It's a little church that wants to do so much - I have never seen so many social activities in one place! The problem is - there aren't any geared toward kids and there aren't any kids for my kid to do them with!
Well, you know what happened? God turned on the light for me and said, "Your ideal is no longer. Find my house, stop dinking around and get your butt in there where you belong!" Yes, that's what he said. And that's what I finally did.
We, and I mean all 3 of us, went and checked out a potentially new church yesterday. And you know something, I liked it!
I liked the pastor. And there are kids! And they have Sunday School. And they had the little pinewood derby car races the week before.. Of course, there are plenty of Grandmas, don't get me wrong, I like the Grandmas (so does Jacob) and they were friendly enough. This church, we were new, that's obvious but, we weren't fawned all over, we weren't promised anything, we simply enjoyed the service and we were allowed to leave at the end - no questions asked.
Jeremy and I, as Lutherans were allowed to partake in communion at this service, they ask that visitors not confirmed in the beliefs of the Lutheran church do not. I, of course, teared up at about the time we were given the communion wine. This may sound strange to you but, I had this completely overwhelming sense of my Father with me, saying "Yes, this is it! This is where you are supposed to be. This is what you were missing! This is what I wanted for you when I chose this faith for you.", only it was more than just my earthly father, it was my heavenly Father as well. I couldn't stop crying. So much so, I couldn't focus on my prayer after taking communion (I typically pray a moment when I return to my seat) - I couldn't stop the tears. And in front of a whole congregation of strangers nonetheless! Honestly, and not out of cruelty, I don't think anyone noticed.
I left there thinking 'yeah, I liked it, we'll see' but, the more time passed, I'm pretty sure we've found our new church home. We still have Sunday School to check out and to transfer membership but, yeah, I think we're home.
Okay, I admit it. I'm old school when it comes to church. I really want the boring, hard core, traditional Lutheran service that I grew up with where I know how it works, I know all of the people, and I know all the words. I've been holding out for that church. Well, I can tell you, that church, no longer exists!
I have said this before, I am a baptized Lutheran. My dad chose it, and leaving it is not an option for me.
I've been depressed with our local church for some time. I can't make it a secret. I really was. The thought of walking in the door made me wish I had a script for Xanax! In the beginning, I enjoyed the time we spent there, I met wonderful people. But, 1 - There is no life there. It's OLD. 2 - there aren't many kids (ie: no kids programs). 3 - It's always the same people that volunteer for the same things but, if you volunteer, you have to do it the same way they have always done. 4 - It's a little church that wants to do so much - I have never seen so many social activities in one place! The problem is - there aren't any geared toward kids and there aren't any kids for my kid to do them with!
Well, you know what happened? God turned on the light for me and said, "Your ideal is no longer. Find my house, stop dinking around and get your butt in there where you belong!" Yes, that's what he said. And that's what I finally did.
We, and I mean all 3 of us, went and checked out a potentially new church yesterday. And you know something, I liked it!
I liked the pastor. And there are kids! And they have Sunday School. And they had the little pinewood derby car races the week before.. Of course, there are plenty of Grandmas, don't get me wrong, I like the Grandmas (so does Jacob) and they were friendly enough. This church, we were new, that's obvious but, we weren't fawned all over, we weren't promised anything, we simply enjoyed the service and we were allowed to leave at the end - no questions asked.
Jeremy and I, as Lutherans were allowed to partake in communion at this service, they ask that visitors not confirmed in the beliefs of the Lutheran church do not. I, of course, teared up at about the time we were given the communion wine. This may sound strange to you but, I had this completely overwhelming sense of my Father with me, saying "Yes, this is it! This is where you are supposed to be. This is what you were missing! This is what I wanted for you when I chose this faith for you.", only it was more than just my earthly father, it was my heavenly Father as well. I couldn't stop crying. So much so, I couldn't focus on my prayer after taking communion (I typically pray a moment when I return to my seat) - I couldn't stop the tears. And in front of a whole congregation of strangers nonetheless! Honestly, and not out of cruelty, I don't think anyone noticed.
I left there thinking 'yeah, I liked it, we'll see' but, the more time passed, I'm pretty sure we've found our new church home. We still have Sunday School to check out and to transfer membership but, yeah, I think we're home.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Forgiveness - Dear Abby's take
I have Dear Abby emailed to me everyday. Some days I read, some I skim, some I just dump in the trash. Funny thing the day after my last post, I got this Dear Abby (you can also find it here) in my email.
Be the first to forgive,
And you will see happiness bloom
You become the master of fate
The fashioner of life
To forgive is the highest,
Most beautiful form of love.
In return you will receive
Untold peace and happiness.
And here is the program for achieving a truly forgiving heart:
SUNDAY: Forgive yourself.
MONDAY: Forgive your family.
TUESDAY: Forgive your friends and associates.
WEDNESDAY: Forgive across economic lines within your own nation.
THURSDAY: Forgive across cultural lines within your own nation.
FRIDAY: Forgive across political lines within your own nation.
DECIDE TO FORGIVE
Decide to forgive
For resentment is negative
Resentment is poisonous
Resentment diminishes and devours the self.
Be the first to forgive,
To smile and to take the first step
And you will see happiness bloom
On the face of your human brother or sister.
Be always the first
Do not wait for others to forgive
For by forgiving
You become the master of fate
The fashioner of life
A doer of miracles.
To forgive is the highest,
Most beautiful form of love.
In return you will receive
Untold peace and happiness.
And here is the program for achieving a truly forgiving heart:
SUNDAY: Forgive yourself.
MONDAY: Forgive your family.
TUESDAY: Forgive your friends and associates.
WEDNESDAY: Forgive across economic lines within your own nation.
THURSDAY: Forgive across cultural lines within your own nation.
FRIDAY: Forgive across political lines within your own nation.
SATURDAY: Forgive other nations.
Only the brave know how to forgive. A coward never forgives.
It is not in his nature.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Healing
Healing. It's a simple word really.
heal·ing
A wound? You get a scab, it falls off, sometimes we're left with a scar but, the actual wound, it's healed. I'm talking about the rest, the internal wounds - mistrust, sorrow, fear, hurt - how do you heal those? How do you know when you're healed? Who decides?
I look back often to our struggles with infertility, one of the biggest struggles I have been given. At this point, I would say my wounds are very close to healed. It's been six, long years and I'm still not all the way there.
I reflect often on the footprints poem, "it was then that I carried you." I truly believe now that God was carrying me, that God did have a plan for us. But, I couldn't see it until I was on this side of it. I know now, and I know with absolute certainty that Jeremy and I could not conceive a child because God was sending Jacob to us. I believe it with all of my heart. I have accepted that...mostly. I still have little 'what-if' or maybes but, then I remember that this, this is my path. I remember that I am blessed with an amazing child that warms (and infuriates) my heart with every smile, every tear, every laugh, and every "Love you, mom". I remember that I was put here to be his mom, and he is here to be my son.
I struggle most with forgiving people for being so insensitive during that time - whether they meant to or not. And I don't think my hurt will truly be healed until I learn to forgive them but, wow! It's hard! I often think of this quote:
“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” ― Maya Angelou
Sadly, it's true. I have forgotten the exact words they used but, I haven't forgotten how their words, their actions/reactions and the lack thereof - or how I internalized what people have said (or still say) to me. I don't know if I can forget how it feels to be a failure. To be different. To be less. To not measure up. To always feel second best. To have never given birth. To have never breastfed. To have never been pregnant. To never understand. To have never felt a life growing inside - the product of you and one that you love to the moon and back, that you couldn't imagine living without. To have failed my husband. And oddly enough, to hurt from those who refused to even acknowledge that we couldn't accomplish this simple task. I mean - young girls all over this country can get pregnant without even trying and we, as adults can't suceed. It still stings a little. I don't know that this side-effect can ever truly heal.
I honestly hope that I can walk away from this lesson and do no harm to another. I pray for the right words when I need them to be able to help someone else through their hurt. To help them heal.
heal·ing
Yet so many variations, physical, psychological, emotional, mental, physiological, holistic, spiritual, and the list goes on and on and on.
I guess, my question lies in when do we know we're healed?
I guess, my question lies in when do we know we're healed?
A wound? You get a scab, it falls off, sometimes we're left with a scar but, the actual wound, it's healed. I'm talking about the rest, the internal wounds - mistrust, sorrow, fear, hurt - how do you heal those? How do you know when you're healed? Who decides?
I look back often to our struggles with infertility, one of the biggest struggles I have been given. At this point, I would say my wounds are very close to healed. It's been six, long years and I'm still not all the way there.
I struggle most with forgiving people for being so insensitive during that time - whether they meant to or not. And I don't think my hurt will truly be healed until I learn to forgive them but, wow! It's hard! I often think of this quote:
“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” ― Maya Angelou
Sadly, it's true. I have forgotten the exact words they used but, I haven't forgotten how their words, their actions/reactions and the lack thereof - or how I internalized what people have said (or still say) to me. I don't know if I can forget how it feels to be a failure. To be different. To be less. To not measure up. To always feel second best. To have never given birth. To have never breastfed. To have never been pregnant. To never understand. To have never felt a life growing inside - the product of you and one that you love to the moon and back, that you couldn't imagine living without. To have failed my husband. And oddly enough, to hurt from those who refused to even acknowledge that we couldn't accomplish this simple task. I mean - young girls all over this country can get pregnant without even trying and we, as adults can't suceed. It still stings a little. I don't know that this side-effect can ever truly heal.
I honestly hope that I can walk away from this lesson and do no harm to another. I pray for the right words when I need them to be able to help someone else through their hurt. To help them heal.
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