should I have more?

Right now, I’m in poor me mode. I want to do nothing but listen to sad music, eat yummy stuff and say poor me.
I’ve been reading other stories about pre-clampsia. Wow, pre-clampsia really sucks. It’s sad to hear that doctors really don’t know anything about it. They seem to be guessing a lot , and some seem to have no clue.
I’m very lucky. I had awesome doctors, who kept a close eye on me and never let get me to far with pre-clampsia. As soon as they saw it rapidly progressing, out came baby. They then kept an eye on me to make sure that everything was returning to normal. I praise God for my doctors.
There is a line out in pre-clampsia world that says you are unlikely to get it again. Yea, then how come so many women in these stories I’m reading, keep getting it. Which leads me to a question: Should I risk it again? I was very lucky this time. But what if I’m not again? Is it fair to my little peanut and yet unborn child to go through it? Women can die from this. If I died, little peanut would have no mommy. And she loves her mommy. Also, pre-clampsia, makes you likely to have an preemie. WE all know the earlier born the more complications. Is it right to take that risk with another little human being. We were so lucky that Michelle came out with few problems. I guess I need to pray about it. I want Michelle to have siblings. But I don’t know.

pre-clampsia sucks

Pre-clampsia sucks,

If you don’t know what pre-clampsia is well, just know it sucks. If you have a mild form of pre-clampsia, your get to go on bed rest. If you have a severe or progressing pre-clampsia then you kidney enzymes and palettes get all messed up. The sad part is pre-clampsia can go from mild to severe in a matter of hours. That’s when they decide to cut your baby from you. However, the most horrible part of pre-clampsia is it can kill you and the precious little being growing inside of you.

C-sections suck. I’m glad they exist because they saved my little girl’s life. But it still sucks. You hurt forever. For almost two weeks you have to walk like a hunch back.

But motherhood doesn’t suck. Which makes the above two worth it. I’m so glad I’m little peanut’s mother. She is so precious. There is nothing better then cuddling with my little squirmy baby and kissing her little cheeks. I’m really looking forward to watching her grow up into a nice young lady. I hope I don’t mess her up. I already think she has a temper like her father and me. Man nature, why couldn’t you have let that one go. The best thing is my little peanut loves me. She loves to be held. She loves to cuddle. When she was first born, she didn’t seem to care, but now she does. Now she will cry and not be silent until I pick her up. Peanut you are the best little girl.

computer has cracked. Lost important stuff. Man, I don't want to be a mother today

Will Write for Formula

gushing wound

So I have joined a post partum support group. The group is awesome. There are some very loving moms there who have deeper problems then I do. Problems like post partum psychosis. During my first meeting, they let me vent and boy did I vent. But they were able to help me gain some perspective on my situation and situations of others. However, it has got me thinking. For some reason, I can’t help but think that I’m treating my gushing wound with a band aid. See, I have had depression since the birth of my daughter, but I had it before. I’m convinced that my real problem is that I’m suffering from post traumatic stress from being abused for 19 years, a problem that I really don’t want to work on. I have been in therapy for it. I went for a year, but then found an excuse to stop when I moved. I don’t like going to therapy for it. I would rather stay emotionally dumb. I think it’s safer that way; however, I do wonder what will be the consequences to my daughter. Before I was pregnant, I prayed for a boy. Why a boy? In my mind a boy is less likely to be preyed on by a sexual predator. Less, likely to be hurt by the person that haunted my childhood. But God didn’t bless me with a boy. He blessed me with a wonderful girl. Now I can keep her hidden away in my house, but what am I going to do when she goes to school. How am I going to handle that? It scares me and I’m afraid I’ll damage her by being way to over protective. It’s already bad enough that I wonder if every man I meet is a sexual predator. It scares me when I read stats that say 1 out of every three girls is sexually assaulted by the time the are 18 are something like that. I know it’s true from talking to people. That means one out of every three girls you know was sexually assaulted.
I already have this purity issue. See, I write and most of my novels features girls with purity issues. It’s my way of regaining or fighting for the purity that was stolen from me. Sometimes I have panic attacks if I see a young girl on T>V> or in a movie some how violated. Recently, with Lillian in the Ten Commandments. If something were to happen to my Little Girl, I don’t know how I would handle it.
Basically, I need to go back into therapy. But that is hard and it makes me face a world I would rather forget.

helping

I thought I would do this to just help. I guess that is the point of this. About eight weeks ago, I had a little baby girl and was separated from her shortly after birth due to health concerns. That was hard. Several days after her birth, she was moved from the nicu to the convalescent nursery and I was able to make the trek from my bedroom to the nursery. While there, an adoptive couple came in to see the child they were going to adopt. I don’t know who they are or what the circumstances of the adoption were. All I could think of, a mother was going to grow through a lot of pain and I became angry for her. Why, because I knew the love of my child. I desperately wanted nothing but to love my child and it was killing me being separated from her. I couldn’t imagine losing the rights to be her mother. I secretly wish that the mother of the unknown baby changed her mind and kept her baby. I guess that is why, I started researching adoption. I wanted to know what it was like. I wanted to hear the pain of it and wish that there was something to be done. During my research, I read stories of the hurt mother go through when they place their children. I have been outraged to learn that adoption agencies, seeking profit, are tearing apart families and taking advantage of adoptive parent’s hopes and dreams. On one blog, a blogger was trying to find who needed to be reached in order to make adoption reform work. She mentioned the adoptive mothers. Well there are not that many people who are really affected by adoption. We all know that the government will ignore the minority’s pleas. If adoption reform is going to happened, reformers must reach those who are not affected. Break the adoption is wonderful shield in front of their eyes and make them realize there is corruption. Those calling out for reform must increase in numbers. I guess that is why I decided to post this when I learned about the call to help the Stephanie Bennett’s family. I pray that the family is united. That Stephanie can once again cuddle with her little girl and wash her little toes and fingers. She deserves it. She is the mother. I can’t imagine the pain that she is going through. But I also pray, that her pain will help get the uninvolved involved in adoption reform.

I have two mothers let me explain. One mother is the woman who loves me. She talks to me about motherhood and listens to my fears and complaints. She has loved me unconditionally. She is the woman who gave My daughter her middle name. Not because I wanted that to be her middle name, but because in some ways I felt that my mother deserved the honor;. She is the mother that gave me 2,000 dollars when depression sent me uninsured into the hospital. That is the mother I received when I married my husband.

Then there is the mother who gave birth to me. She is the one I have very little contact with only through an occasional email. She is the one that didn’t protect me. The one who denies that man she believes is a saint raped my innocence to fulfill his own desires. She is the one that doesn’t know I have a daughter because it will be a cold day in hell before I will let him rape my Little Girl’s innocence and this woman would probably stand by an allow him.

I think that there is a subconscious part of abused children that want to adopt themselves out. I have been doing it my whole life. Anyone that would show me any true love I would try and become their child. Now I might not try to move in with them, but I would definitely try over and over again to receive that love they gave. I once convinced a couple people that my preacher was my brother. Ha.

In some ways I think I no longer am doing that because I have successfully adopted myself to my husband’s family. I have a dad now who would kill the man that produced me if he ever tried to hurt me and a mother who will give me all the love in the world. I have aunts and uncles who give me advice, hugs and kisses. I have grandparents who would be deeply hurt if I ever left their life.. I have been so successful with this adoption, that I don’t even miss my biological family. Maybe I am in denial but I don’t.

My daughter has two grandmothers. One is my husband’s mother and his stepmother. They are both loving people. In some ways I hope this keeps her from noticing or missing my mother; thus furthering her protection.

Maybe this blog isn’t so much about my struggle to bond with my child as much as it is about trying to be the mother I never had growing up. Because I absolutely refuse to allow my daughter to live such a life.

Sad but true. I wonder if my daughter and I have finally reached some kind of break through. Last night my daughter was extremely cranky. I was able to get her to calm down by holding her. Her father, my wonderful loving husband, asked to hold her. I gave her to him. She sat with him for about ten minutes and then started to freak out. He just sat there holding her. Finally I went to her picked her up and started talking to her. She calmed down. I handed her back to her daddy and she immediately freaked out. She wants you, my husband said. I picked her up and started talking to her and she calmed down. Wow, my daughter wanted me. I told my husband it’s because we spend almost every second together. He said he understood. I still think it hurt my husband. I think the next time he’s holding her and she gets cranky I’ll let him continue holding her. She has to learn to love us both equally. But it still made me feel wonderful to know my daughter wanted me. Of course it could have been because I talked to her but I’m still going to take this small victory.

she has to be held

I love to write novels. Sometimes, I can’t stop writing novels. However at the moment I’m having trouble writing novels. Why? Well, she’s about to turned seven weeks tomorrow. My daughter has decided that she usually can’t be alone for a second. Bed time is wonderful because she will cry until she realizes we are not going to come to her rescue. Now I should be happy. Yay, my daughter wants me to hold her. But the thing is. She doesn’t care who holds her. Just as long as she is being held. She wants to sleep with me, but I believe that is absolutely dangerous. I wonder if she would be fine if she had another baby to sleep with. Ah, I love my little peanut. SO I’m trying to figure out how to balance her and a laptop on my lap. Sometimes, I’ll put her squirming self on the desk while I type on the computer. Well, she likes to hit the keys with her little feet and hands. So that doesn’t quite work. The best invention though is that freaking sling. I put her in it. She is snug close to me and I can get some things done. If I didn’t have that thing, I swear sometimes the house would never get cleaned.
Maybe my little peanut is just afraid of being alone. I guess when I think from her perspective that could be the problem. She has to depend on someone to feed her and take care of her. She might not know that when she is set down the person will remember to return. So she cries until I or someone else returns. So she has probably learned that crying makes someone appear. Therefore, she cries to always make sure that the person who takes care of her is always there and doesn’t forget her.