Giving of Thanks

I am thankful for: 

 TIME

FAMILIES

AND SECOND CHANCES

Another Downer...

I had my first doctor's appointment (dr appt) in late Feb. By that time I was fed up with having C.S. STILL sleeping on our couch and trying to be a "homewrecker" for lack of a better word. It was illegal for her to even be living in our apartment, so I went to our office two days prior to my dr appt, and they said I couldn't get in trouble for moving her stuff out. I let her know that day if she wasn't moved out in two days then I would move her out myself. She didn't believe me.

M&E (roomies) were having problems with her too. She was eating our food, using our power, water, cars, etc., she never cleaned up after herself, and she never paid us a penny, despite constantly telling us that she'd reimburse us for the gas and utility bills that she used up. But I knew that M&E would still have a problem with me moving her stuff out, despite the fact that E had told me several times that she wanted C.S. out. But two days later, her stuff was still in our apartment. I quickly threw everything into boxes and put it all out in our covered parking stall. Did I mention it was raining and the wind was blowing, and none of the boxes had lids?
Chris showed up as I was leaving for the dr appt. I thought he would just go straight to the hospital from work, and I was eager to leave before the others came home and saw C.S.'s stuff outside. Plus, I knew that I shouldn't have done it that way anyway so I just wanted to leave before someone got mad at me! I will do anything to avoid a confrontation.

Chris took his time changing his clothes and eating lunch, and I was getting frantic! I just knew they were going to come home before we were gone. Sure enough, the door opened and M&E are LIVID. They started yelling at me and bringing her stuff back in. I yelled back, which was starting to happen more and more often. I never used to yell. I slammed M's microwave door shut and he took it into his room, screaming at me that if I was gonna treat his stuff that way, then I couldn't use it. That was the WRONG thing to say. He had ruined every single piece of kitchen appliances that we had, and it really made me angry, especially because he never replaced any of it. So I started screaming back at him that I could easily cook without a microwave, but he'd have a hard time without all of my kitchen stuff.

Soon after, I found myself in our bedroom. I have no idea if I went there myself or if Chris took me back. I could hear M&E bringing the rest of C.S. stuff back in. I was crying uncontrollably. Chris was hugging me. Then I remembered the dr appt! We were going to be late!

I started hyperventilating on the way to the doc. I was so shaken up that I was going into Panic Attack Mode, as I call it. Like I said, I don't like confrontations. Luckily I calmed down enough to be ok. We didn't meet our doc this time, it was just her NP. She was super nice and gave us an ultrasound! The first time I saw my little baby was amazing. I could actually see a little body starting to form! I was so proud of those ultrasound pictures. 

C.S. moved into another apartment with a guy a few days later. But she still hung around Chris WAY too much. She still got pouty when she didn't get time alone with him. One day, Chris, her, and her guy friend were going for an early season motorbike ride (just fyi, LOVE the CBR, that was mine to ride until it got sold, then we just had Chris' GXSR) and I invited myself along. Yes! I know! It was the one and only time I rode during my pregnancy, I promise!!!! I had taken Chris' backseat off his bike awhile ago, because it was MY seat, and I knew very well that once C.S. found out he had a bike, she'd ask for a ride. She didn't need to get any closer to my husband than she had been already. When I came out holding the seat, C.S. was glaring at me. Chris told me later that she had asked for a ride, and he had told her he didn't have a backseat. (this is awful but I got SO MUCH satisfaction out of that.) We only got a block from the apartment when she had her friend pull their bike over. She didn't feel like riding anymore. I'll give you one guess as to why. Pout.

I know I sound mean and critical when I talk about her. Please understand that I did not and do not hate her. I know she is a child of God, just like me, and I know she isn't perfect, just like me. I tried to keep that in mind, although it had a tendency to go in one ear and out the other... I know between the two of us, God was probably more disappointed in me than her, because I knew better than to act the way I was acting. But I still had that darn rebellious streak. It should've hit in high school, but I've always been a late bloomer.

The reason I talk so harshly is because that time was incredibly stressful, and still, even just thinking about it, my hands start shaking and all that weight comes back onto my shoulders. The only way I know how to deal with it is through anger. I will be glad when this part of the story is over and we can move on to the adoption stuff!

I put the ultrasound photo in a frame on our bookcase. We didn't talk about the baby much. Part of the reason was we didn't know what to say. Part of it was I was scared. We didn't know how to talk to each other anymore and I was scared that if we did talk, we'd discover that we couldn't support this child, just like we couldn't support each other. I wasn't ready for things to be over already. Most people call it denial. I call it stubbornness.

RECIPE FOR A COZY, RAINY AFTERNOON

1 loved one

1 good book

1 roaring fire

1 mug of sweet or spicy hot cocoa. See below for both the recipes.

Spiced Cocoa

1 cup brown sugar

1 cup Dutch processed cocoa

pinch of cayenne pepper 

1 cup milk, divided

Combine all ingredients except milk. Put 1/2 cup milk and 2 tab cocoa mixture into a jar with a tight lid, and shake (mixes better than stirring). Add the other 1/2 cup milk and shake. Pour into a pan and bring to simmer, or pour into a mug and heat in microwave. 

Hot Peppermint Cocoa

2/3 cup powdered cocoa

3/4 cup sugar

2/3 cup finely crushed peppermint candy

8 cups milk, divided

1 tab vanilla

1 tab butter

1 cup whipping cream, whipped

8 small candy canes

In a large saucepan, stir cocoa, sugar, and crushed peppermint. Gradually add about 2/3 cup of the milk to form a smooth paste. Stir in the rest of the milk and heat slowly over medium heat, stirring constantly until hot. Do not boil. Remove from heat, stir in vanilla and butter. Top with a dollop of cream and add a candy cane for a stirrer. Serves 8.  

Read this blog

http://www.danoah.com/2010/11/small-side-of-numbers.html

I follow this blog. The guy that writes it has such amazing views on life. He really makes you think and he has a way of giving you hope in your own life. I especially love his last post. Please read it!

Recipe for a Bad Day

Disclaimer: I frequently call my baby an "it" in this post, because that is what he was to me at the time. Also, the feelings I express in this post are NOT how I feel now. Just thought you should know :)

It was almost a month before I was able to go to the doctor. It took that long for me to get on insurance. We did go to Planned Parenthood though to take an "official" pregnancy test. I was looking forward to spending some time with my husband and talking about our baby and being excited together. But that didn't happen. C.S. had a bad habit of needing to come with us everywhere we went, and this time was no exception. She invited herself along so she could get her birth control. I couldn't tell her no without becoming the bad guy. I should've just done it anyway. Why was I allowing this girl to spend even more time around my husband when she already got enough to begin with? Maybe I was hoping if I was nice to her, she'd back off. Maybe I was scared that if I was rude to her, Chris wouldn't like it and he'd leave me. Our relationship was fragile enough as it was, I thought I didn't need some lonely, manipulative girl forcing her way into our relationship. I didn't realize at the time that there already WAS a lonely, manipulative girl in the relationship. Only after the fact did I figure out that I was behaving just as badly as C.S.

I became even more controlling than I had been the past month. Besides following him down the hallway, I got furious every time he wanted to go out with out me. I was scared that he would secretly be meeting up with C.S.  We had an outdoor hot tub in our apartment complex. Even though I couldn't sit in it because of the baby, I would sit out there with him in the evening, in the dead of winter, freezing my ears off, all because C.S. would be out there too. That girl really got inside my head. I was completely off the wall.

Of course Chris got irritated with me. Understandably he'd blow me off and leave for hours after he got home from work because he was tired of dealing with my angry, reckless self. I threw temper tantrums (that is the first and only time I will ever admit that). I'd get so angry at him that I'd grab a blanket and pillow and go into our walk in closet and cry myself to sleep. That's the only time I ever cried. And the only reason I did it was because I wanted him to hear me and come in and hug me. I was such a turd head.

Chris wasn't blameless either, of course. These things are never caused by only one person. We were increasingly emotionally abusive to each other. We all have that fight or flight instinct when we feel unsafe or insecure. Mine undoubtedly is to fight.

I was trying so hard to NOT push Chris away, but I was doing it all wrong, and so of course it pushed him away. I blamed him for everything. He never thought about my feelings, never tried to understand my point of view, never seemed to want to try to make things better. I was so busy accusing him of wrongdoing that I never once stopped to consider my own actions.

Let he who hath no sin cast the first stone.

Valentines day came and went. A box of chocolates thrown on the bed. I tried to be grateful. He didn't have to do anything, after all. I wanted to make a steak dinner for him that night. I wanted to spend some time with him without being stressed out and I wanted him to see that I still wanted things to work. I wanted to be happy. Not surprisingly, dinner didn't happen. I can't remember why. We probably got in a fight or something. Looking back on those days, I can see how selfish and uncaring I was. And how lost. It makes me wonder what I'm not seeing in myself now.

Chris started being around C.S. more often because I was being so cruel to him. And I would be cruel to him because he'd hang out with C.S. Circle, circle, circle. It was nothing new to either of us. Sometimes I would try to do nice things for him, to say sorry or just to be nice. He would tell me I only did it to get his attention away from C.S. Sometimes that was it, I'm only human! But sometimes I truly wanted to be good to him.I wanted to go to church. I wanted to feel some sort of peace in my life. But I guess I wasn't feeling the need enough because I would never go. It meant leaving C.S. alone with Chris.

I started to realize things would probably end. I thought, "I want my baby to have a father. But I also don't want him to grow up in such an angry world." My resting pulse was up to 105. I was so stressed out I couldn't hold on to anything for more than half a minute because I was so shaky from the adrenaline my body was constantly producing. I couldn't eat. I was scared I would lose my sweet baby. February and March contained no hope, no happiness. Only anger, heartbreak, and inadequacy were felt. I still didn't feel any connection to my baby, although I felt everything else a parent should feel, especially a fierce need to protect it. But it still didn't feel like it belonged to me.

I asked Chris if we could move. It wasn't financially possible, besides the fact that he didn't want to. One day in early March, I decided that I would NOT lose my baby. If it came down to it, I would leave Chris at the apartment and go live with my parents.

That night, I finally made the steak dinner that was meant for Valentine's Day.

Boston Cream Pie

1 cup flour                                  2/3 cup sugar

1 1/2 tsp baking powder              1/4 tsp salt      

1/2 cup milk                               1/4 cup oil

2 egg yolks                                 1 tsp vanilla

2 egg whites                               1/4 tsp cream of tartar

Vanilla Pudding Filling                  Chocolate Glaze

(see below)                                 (see below)

Vanilla Pudding Filling:

In a saucepan combine 1/2 cup sugar, 2 tab flour, 1 tab cornstarch, and 1/8 tsp salt. Stir in 1 1/4 cups milk. Cook and stir until thickened. Reduce heat; cook and stir 2 min. Set aside. In a bowl, slightly beat 2 eggs. Stir 1 cup of hot mixture into eggs; return to saucepan. Cook and stir 2 min (do NOT boil). Remove from heat, stir in 1 tab margarine and 1 1/2 tsp vanilla till combined. Cover surface with plastic wrap and cool.

Chocolate Glaze:

Melt 1 square (1 oz) unsweetend chocolate and 1 tab margarine over low heat. Remove from heat, stir in 3/4 cup powdered sugar and 1/2 tsp vanilla till crumbly. Stir in 2 tsp very hot water. Stir in 3-4 additional tsp of hot water, 1 tsp at a time, to make a glaze of pouring consistency.

In a medium bowl, combine flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt. Make a well in the mixture. Add milk, oil, egg yolks, and vanilla into the well. Beat with an electric mixer on low-med speed until combined. Then beat on high for 3 min. Set aside.

Thoroughly wash beaters. In large mixing bowl, beat egg whites and cream of tartar until stiff peaks form. Pour the beaten mixture over the egg white mixture and gently fold in. Pour batter into ungreased 9" spring for pan. Bake in 350 degree oven for 25-30 min or till top springs back when lightly touched. Immediately invert the cake in the pan on a wire rack. Cool completely. Remove cake from pan. To assemble, cut cake horizontally in half. Place bottom layer on a serving plate or board. Spread filling on top. Top with second layer. Pour glaze over cake and down sides. Refrigerate.



Thoughts For My Baby cont'd

I didn't have time to post much more than the poem last time, I wanted to explain why I posted it in the first place. It has a great deal of meaning to me, it's how I felt throughout my entire pregnancy, but I mostly wanted to focus on the first few months because that is where I'm at in my story.

Even though I wasn't sure at that time that having a baby was a good thing, I still wanted to love and care for him (although I didn't know it was a him at the time...) as best I could. I was going to do everything I possibly could for my baby. And so my first trimester was filled with thoughts on how I could prepare for a child, and how I could parent the right way. I couldn't wait for the first time I would look into my baby's eyes. I couldn't wait for the first smile, laugh, and banged elbow. I couldn't wait for kindergarten, the driver's license, prom, mission, wedding day, and finally, grandkids of my own. I was looking very far ahead :)

Of course I was terrified too. I never had been much of a babysitter and most of my patience for kids had dwindled to nothing, not to mention the fact that I had a weird feeling through those months. I didn't feel that the baby growing inside me was mine. I tried to ignore it at first, and whenever I did think about it I told myself I was having that thought because I was scared. But the feeling persisted, and it wouldn't be long before I found out why. In the meantime, I DID have a baby growing in my tummy, and I WAS the mother. And so I began to look towards the future with hope and love.

In the 5th stanza to that poem, you'll notice that the rhyme and rhythm are different than the rest of the poem. It was meant to stand out because it is important to me that my child knew that I would love him no matter what. It is something inside me that will never change. The phrase "mommy, mom, and mother" are used. It is meant to show time. Small children use the title "mommy". When they find out that it isn't cool to use that, it changes to "mom" and then finally, once the child is grown and has children of his own, it changes once again to "mother". Oh, how desperately I wanted to hear those words from my child throughout his life. I wasn't thinking just of the near future. I was thinking of eternity.

I had all those thoughts just in the first few days of finding out I was pregnant. Yes, I was scared to death, but I was so excited by the challenges and experiences this baby would bring. I would find myself lost in thought all the time, wondering what life would be like for this innocent, precious child. I wondered if he would ever hate me or think I was old fashioned. (Of course he would, don't we all?)

I frequently thought that it would be a good idea to be like my own parents. They are great examples of what parents should be, and I hoped to do as good as they did.

Most of all, I wondered if this baby would repair my relationship with Chris.

Thoughts For My Baby

My dearest little angel,
Though I cannot see you yet,
I know you're there, just waiting
For the day you take your breath.

I want to watch you grow and learn,
And live and laugh and love.
And I know God is watching,
Loving you, His son.

I want to be there, day by day,
Seeing who you'll be.
You'll skin your knees
And run around
And climb up every tree.

You'll also bring me flowers
And make me smile too.
You'll know that I will ALWAYS
Be not far from you.

I want to be a good mommy,
Mom, and Mother.
I want you to know that
You are not perfect,
As I am not perfect.
But I will love you
No matter what.

I want to tease you
On your first date,
And watch you kiss your bride.

And be the one you run to
When things are hurting inside.

I want to teach you
Of God and Man
And see which one you choose.

I want to know what lies ahead
And of God's plan for you.

My mind cannot yet comprehend
The mysteries of life.
But one day I will,
And so will you
And the rest of all mankind.

Until then, I am here,
Just waiting,
For the day you take your breath.