It's Okay to Ask for Help!

I am not an expert in anything, but what I have are my own experiences.

I've learned that life doesn't seem to follow the plans and dreams we unrealistically set for ourselves. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've wished that that my life would have taken the path that I wanted it to take...but then I come to grips with reality and remember that that path would not have given me my two children. I'm not going to bore you with the details of my failed marriages and finally finding the man who finally captured my heart, stepped into the role of being "Dad", and put up with the drama of life that has fulfilled our lives.

I will tell you that my kids can be a pain in the butt, cause me headaches and heartaches...but in the end, they are mine and I'll love them until the day I die. Raising kids isn't easy and can be scary, especially when put into an unexpected position. But at the same time it is one of the most rewarding and wonderful accomplishments you will ever do while on this Earth. With good support of family, friends and those who love you, you and your child will undoubtedly have a strong support system. No matter what any of us tell you...you will definitely see and learn that your common sense, love and endurance is what will get you through the good and the bad of raising a child and even having relationships.

Just remember to breathe and lean on people when you need to. One thing I learned a long time ago was there are no stupid questions when someone is asking for help. The important thing to remember is not to be afraid to ask.

Live your life like a river flows... free without force, and trust that whichever way it goes it's for the best.

Jill Spiegel Weiser 

Surprises are the Best Laid Plans

Being a parent has taught me THIS: Things don't always go as planned, but they do always go the way they're supposed to.

I have a firm belief that things happen for a reason. All things. We meet certain people because we are supposed to. Every experience in life - whether good, bad, exciting or devastating - contains a lesson to be learned, a reason certain key people were involved, and is a stepping stone to moving forward on our own personal path. My belief is that if we can wipe away the glitter and sparkles from the wonderful experiences - and clean away the muck and darkness from the horrible experiences - we will find that something positive is almost always waiting there for us to discover it.

In my early 20s, I was selfish and often told people I never wanted kids. I worked, I played, I dated, I drank, I spent money frivolously, I thought about ME ME ME and I lived my life purely in the moment. I never made decisions with any sense of permanency; if I didn't like something or got bored with it (a car, a job, a boyfriend) - I just changed it and shut the door behind me. Easy as that. Do what's best for me... move on to the next thing (or person)... never look back. Done deal. I convinced myself that my actions didn't affect other people; and that if they did affect others, that was THEIR problem - not mine. I had control over my own feelings; it was not my responsibility to control theirs.

Fast forward to late 20s >>> I met "the one". Moved in together. Got engaged. Flipped the switch from "Me" to "We". Life was awesome. We were both making a lot of money, we had a house, we had more cars than we needed, we went to expensive restaurants and spent long weekends at beach resorts and life was fun and great and easy and amazing. Yeah!

Got married. Our *PLAN* was to spend two years doing all of this cool fancy married people stuff, travel a ton, save up money to buy a bigger house, and maybe plan for kids a few years down the road. Sign on the dotted line. Agreed.

Three months after the wedding? Positive pregnancy test. UH-OH.

Definitely not in my *PLAN*. I immediately felt a sense of loss, as my "Me" selfishness came back to haunt me and I thought about all of the things I would be missing out on, all of the *PLANS* we had made to travel, and the house we wanted to buy that now we would never be able to afford because, well, diapers and daycare are expensive. We were supposed to be going to a wedding in Cancun next summer! Damn it! I had barely been a WIFE for twelve weeks, and now I was supposed to be a MOM? I had barely gotten used to calling him my "husband", how was I supposed to also add "son" or "daughter" to that. Too much. I was overloaded. This was not what we had *PLANNED*.

This is the time I suffered my very first panic episode. And then a second one. And then they happened weekly, and then sometimes several in a day. I couldn't figure out what triggered the episodes. Sometimes I would be sitting at work. Sometimes I would be watching TV, or other times I would be driving - those were the scariest. But every time, I had to talk myself out of them. I literally had to hear myself say the words out loud: "Breathe. Clear your head. Let go. It's ok. Calm down. Relax. It's just your body responding to anxiety." I learned to live with the episodes, as if they were an extension of my body. Hated them, but accepted them as a part of me. Never knew when they would strike, but knew in the back of my mind that they could happen at any given moment. I was filled with anxiety - always. Every moment of the day, and especially in social situations (I'm already an extremely socially awkward person as it is, so this did not help my social weirdness.)

On the outside, the pregnancy looked like any other. I sent the cute announcement, I registered at Babies R Us, I emailed the cheesy pregnancy updates to our families. Had the baby shower, bought the crib, decorated the nursery - did it all. Everything by the book. And yes, it was all fun and cute and I was thankful for the support and excitement of family and friends... yet on the inside? Fear. Nervousness. Depression. Anxiety. Dread of losing my identity in this un-invited, rude baby that I had not *PLANNED* for yet nor did I feel that I was ready for. I didn't have the time for this, I didn't have the money for this, I didn't have the patience. I had places to go and big things I wanted to do. It wasn't in my nature to "just go with the flow" and let things play out, I was used to having control. I was used to waving my magic wand of selfishness and bringing things/people into my life when I wanted them there, and then getting rid of them when I was finished with them. That was my MO. Plain and simple, black and white.

My son was born. And this is supposed to be the part where I say "And then everything changed the second I saw his face! The bluebirds sang and the unicorns flew over the rainbows and everything was perfect! Hooray!"

Unfortunately, that is not what happened - at least not immediately. Yes of course I felt love for my son, because he was a product of my marriage and love for my husband. I won't deny that. But my mind was still spinning with thoughts of how life as I knew it was over, I had lost my freedom, my money, my independence, my self-identity. I felt resentment. I was no longer ME, I was now B's wife (barely) and D's mom. I held him, I fed him, I bathed him, I kissed him. I took care of him. I felt love for him. But every single day I would wake up and say "Ok, today will be the day that I will feel a CONNECTION to this baby." And then every night I would go to bed telling myself "Well, it didn't happen today. It will happen tomorrow." This went on for weeks. My *PLAN* was not working. This did not help the anxiety episodes.

One day I was home alone with him while my husband was at work. I don't remember the day of the week but (somehow) the laundry was done, dishes were clean, beds were made, and my son was between feedings and diaper changes, so he was happy as a clam. I turned some music on to get some cleaning done. And then suddenly something stopped me and told me to pick him up. Literally stopped me and told me to just pick him up. NOW. I picked him up and began swaying and dancing while holding him. And before I could explain it - I guess because I had not *PLANNED* it - he smiled. He looked at me straight in the eyes and smiled a real smile, not a gas-induced smile or a muscle twitch. He was smiling at ME. The more I swayed, the more he smiled. If I stopped, he stopped. If I started, he smiled again. He would not unlock his gaze, and I didn't dare unlock mine. I can not put into words what happened at that moment, and I didn't know it at the time, but that was the turning point. That was it, that was the unicorn jumping over the rainbow! He connected with me and I connected with him and I realized that THIS was what was supposed to be happening at that very moment, THIS may not have been my *PLAN* but this was the way it was supposed to happen and this was the exact moment when it was supposed to play out.

It was no longer just about ME and my selfish needs and wants. I had this little person who depended on me for everything - for food, for care, for unconditional love - and instead of being annoyed that I was missing out on a fun night out with friends or the wedding in Cancun, I finally - for the first time - felt that I was exactly where I was supposed to be, doing the thing that I was supposed to be doing at that very moment. I actually WANTED to give him my everything, and as these feelings grew they began chipping away at the fears and resentment and anxiety.

And all of those other things I was so worried about? They all still happened, just not on the timeline that I had *PLANNED* for myself. We still bought a new house, we have taken vacations through the years, we have made time for friends and family. We didn't miss out on anything that we had *PLANNED* for, they just all happened when they were SUPPOSED to. I gave up needing control. And that's ok. I am exactly where I'm supposed to be, doing what I'm am supposed to be doing. I would never go back and change any of it. The connection with him gave me such a sense of peace that I felt empowered to take on anything.

My son is 7 now. We had a few bumpy toddler years, as he is very strong-willed and sometimes self-centered (surprise, surprise!) so I always joke that I didn't like him much between the years of 2-4. Parenting is HARD! I will not lie about that. It is stressful and draining and just when you think you've made the right decision, you realize you have no idea if that was the right thing to do. There will be sleepless nights, there will be power struggles, there will be days when you are just plain exhausted and want to put him to bed at 6 PM (and you will, and then you will have a glass of wine and re-charge, and then at 9 PM you will miss him and wish that you could wake him up again to play! But you won't, because there is more wine to drink. Ha!) But there are just so many amazing moments, especially when you step back and realize that these tiny humans are such amazing little packages...

My son is hilarious and makes up riddles on his own (today's was "What is a flamingo's favorite fruit? FlaMANGO!"). He is smart - top reader in his class for the second year - yeah! He is compassionate, he questions everything, he has a love of dinosaurs and superheroes and anything that has to do with any branch of science - he even subscribes to the National Geographic Kids magazine. He feels for people - even strangers - when they are hurt; he told me the other day he felt sorry for a first grader he doesn't even know, because she broke her leg and is in a wheelchair, and he's going to ask her next week if he can help push her around. He takes money out of his pocket and gives it to street performers on his own. He gets sarcasm and dishes it out well. He strives to do his best and beams with joy when we tell him we are proud of him.

I am not saying all of this to brag about how wonderful my son is, oh trust me, we butt heads DAILY, he can be a major A-hole, we argue and fight and yell and yes, we even go to bed angry sometimes (even after saying we are sorry). I'm saying all of these things because after the daily routine muck clears away, after the tenth "pick up your socks!" and the homework tears and the skinned knees and the time-outs - you will find things about your son that are unique to him and that make you realize he is the one that was created just for you.

JUST FOR YOU

We have a connection that I can not put into words, we can look across the room at each other and know what the other is thinking. Several people have posted this here, and I agree that there is a very special connection between a boy and his mother. I never quite understood it until a few years ago. And when he smiles at me, even with missing teeth and all (in typical 7 year old fashion), there is no one else in the room at that moment. It takes me back to that day when he smiled at me for the very first time in that living room. The unicorn jumps over the rainbow every time. We connected that day, we have been connected since, and we will be connected forever.

(Side note: I also have a daughter who just turned 3 last week. Because she is fully in the "I'm not really sure I like her very much right now" stage of life, I will leave her out of this post because I mainly wanted to share my struggles with feeling nervous and scared about having my first. Don't get me wrong, I love my daughter to the moon and back.

LR
 

Dreams Can Come True

Babies 1 & 2, a love fest.

At 29 I was newly pregnant with my second child when I found out I had cervical cancer. The doctors felt it was in the early stages and that I should be able to carry the baby to term, but recommended a hysterectomy afterward. My mother was beside herself and wanted me to terminate the pregnancy and have the hysterectomy immediately. Terms of Endearment and Steel Magnolias were two popular movies at the time and my mother felt sure I would die.

My husband weirded out. I can't say what happened to him. He just quit talking to me. He would disappear for days at a time. When I asked him what was wrong he would say nothing.

My daughter was two at the time and I worked full time so we carried on as usual. I figured once the baby was born and I had the surgery Tom would return to normal.

My son was born on February 12 in the middle of a horrible snowstorm. I was staying with my mom because I was close to delivering; I had quit work to have the baby and stay home with the kids throughout my recovery, and hopefully, raise them until they went to school. My mom called my husband to tell him I was in labor and he showed up, but was extremely angry. My sister kept him out of the labor and delivery room so that he would not upset me.

Three months later I found out my husband was having an affair with another woman and had been almost since the beginning of my pregnancy. When I confronted him, he left me. I had no job and two babies. I moved us closer to my parents, found a job and went back to work. I refused the hysterectomy because I just did not have the strength to go through it at the time with everything else that was going on. My doctor removed my cervix, but told me he was just buying me some time. I had cancer screens every three months.

My main goal in life at the time was to make my children's life as normal as possible and fill them with memories. There were no guarantees. My husband moved to Tucson, AZ (we are in Michigan), so for the first two years the kids barely saw him, only on holidays, and talked to him on the phone once a week. He finally returned and then took them every other weekend.

When my son was nine, he went to live with his dad because he was too much for me to handle and needed his dad. My daughter was very involved in softball and volleyball and her dad made sure to attend her games. My son played football and I attended all of his games. Every weekend we acted like a "normal" family participating in our kids’ lives.

My son moved back home in tenth grade. I "adopted" one of his friends, whose parents died of drug overdoses. My ex-husband "adopted" him too, acting as a surrogate dad. Now the kids are 27 and 29. There were many tough times, but lots of fun too. All the kids are doing well.

My daughter just got married, and her dad and I danced together at her wedding. The DJ announced us as Mr & Mrs. Thomas Grover. My poor daughter almost died, but we laughed. She is graduating with her Master’s in Education Leadership in May and works for Hillsborough County schools in Florida as a peer evaluator after teaching for five years. Her supervisors are encouraging her to apply for an assistant principal position next year.

My son #1 did his four years in the Marines, and after some readjusting the last few years, he seems to have finally settled down. He’s got a great job at U.S.Steel as a crane operator and hopes to apply to the electrician's apprenticeship program.

My son #2, got a Bachelor's in Accounting from Central Michigan University and passed all four parts of the CPA exam. He works for DOW, is traveling all over the world doing internal audits, is married, has two dogs and owns his own home. My ex goes up to his home all the time to help him work on his house.

I never thought, 27 years ago, everything would turn out as well as it has. Now that the kids are all established I am living my dream of being an attorney. I went to law school at 47 and graduated at 52. At 55 years old I opened my own office. Life is good. I am happy and so are my kids. All things are possible.

KG

Out of Darkness Comes the Brightest Light

I was a single mom when I had my oldest son. Not a lot of people know the details but I was raped and wound up pregnant.I don't tell you the circumstances because I'm looking for sympathy but because it helps to show that even out of a horrible situation, you can find amazing strength and joy!

He is now 31 years old. At his wedding dinner, just on the fly, I got up and spoke. Made a little toast to the bride and groom. I had no plans to say anything but my heart was so full of joy that night that I had to speak. 

I simply told my new daughter in law that without a doubt, Nathan was the best decision I ever made in my life and I hoped that she would always feel that way too.

The way I saw it 31 years ago, I could have made three decisions. 

1.Terminate the pregnancy-this wasn't really an option for me. I simply couldn't do it.
2. Give the baby up for adoption-I seriously consider this one for many months.
3. Keep the baby and likely struggle to make ends meet while raising him.

I had the support of my family and really couldn't have done it with out their help. To this day, I've never regretted my decision.

I'm not just painting a pretty picture. My oldest was a wonderful baby and has always had a great personality. He was the joy of my life and even as a young (21 yrs old) mom, I found such joy in being with my little boy. I was scared to death to be a mom but I am so glad I chose to be his mom. It wasn't always easy. He certainly had his moments as a teenager. He went through 6 cars in 5 years! We struggled with a lot of ear problems as a child and had to have tubes put in twice and he still blew out his eardrum three other times. We thought he would have permanent hearing damage but he doesn't. He was very smart and sometimes that's really hard! You can't pass anything by them when they are smart like that!

I'm sure I didn't do everything right. I'm sure I made lots of mistakes. I'm also sure I did the best I could with what I had. My oldest was like some kind of God in our family...everybody absolutely loved him. All of his cousins think he is just the best and look up to him and consult him on lots of life's issues. It's hard to raise a child that everybody else thinks is perfect. I've said many times that he could kill somebody and my entire family would figure out a way to justify it because it was him! HA!.

Out of all of that came a wonderful husband and awesome daddy. He now has two of his own and I can't even explain how awesome it is to be a grandma!

There were many times I thought what the hell was I thinking....this is really hard! But the love that you see in that child's eyes, the hugs and kisses that you get from them, the talks that you get to have as they grow and learn, and the fact that you can walk every step of their life with them is just simply amazing. I look at Nathan now and think "Wow. I did that." The love is just amazing!

MM

Life Long Lessons

I have struggled with admitting this without sounding elitist or being judged, but I was not sure I was cut out to be a mother.

I am the oldest of five from a working class Catholic family. I was the designated "smart one", and I wore that title proudly. I graduated from high school at 16 and college at 19, and I felt the pressure to so something grand in my life.

When I was in high school, my mother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and I was thrust into the caregiver role for my siblings when my saint mom was too ill. Being a young teenager who knew too much about cancer, but not enough emotional maturity to process it, I shut down to block out my fears. I judged myself too since I was a perfectionist and I couldn't fix things. Somehow that morphed into thinking I would not ever be good enough to protect or nurture any future family, so I just kept on studying.

My original dream was to work for the State Department. I spoke three languages and was learning another. I spent my junior year in Montreal and realized I would need more education if I wanted to pursue that, so I applied to Georgetown and got in, but funds were iffy so I deferred. I met my husband in college, and because we both had brain malfunctions at the same time, we got married a year after I graduated. J. was working full time and finishing his engineering degree. The plan was I would stay on the fast track at my job while Joe finished, and then I would finish my masters and apply to State. Fast forward a year. In the dark ages of birth control, I had to take a break and immediately got pregnant. There were plenty of snickers and we were shocked.

It was a precarious labor with both me and the baby in danger, and I was not allowed to hold her for three days, but that moment erased all doubts that I could love more than I thought possible. I will skip the rest, but I never got my masters, it took my husband seven more years to finish his degree, I switched from fast track to slow track to part time to work at home mom, and we had three more children. There were plenty of bumps, a cancer diagnosis for me too, plenty of years when my husband was building his career and I was essentially single, and many child rearing mistakes that my kids still hold over my head. Currently, all four are doing what they love which was our hope. I focus on that when I am disappointed that Mom and Dad are not central in their lives anymore, and I find myself questioning if I had more children than I should have, or did I lose myself raising them.

What I would love new moms to know is being unsure of yourself is normal, dreams will change and you will adapt, and never let other people's expectations and statements define you and your motherhood. I am still the person who values life long learning, and I got to instill that in my kids. They have taught me plenty too, but I will never learn to love snakes or baby powder pancakes. They also picked up some of my bad traits, but I am thrilled I embraced motherhood and took a chance.

DS

Mom of Seven and Still Not Too Crazy

I went to the bathroom for 1.5 minutes...

I have no idea where to start. Been running the story over in my head for two days. First...I have wanted children all my life. I mean really, really wanted kids. When I was about 12 my grandma made a comment that always stuck with me. "You are so great with kids I can see you having six of them." To which I replied only if I could afford it. I now have seven. They range from 21 to 8 months old. Some I birthed, some I didn't. Included in this bunch is a little two year old girl who came to me as a foster child and we are currently finishing our adoption process.

My first son is 14. My ex-husband never wanted kids. Loved the bachelor type of life. We had been together for 6 years married for 1 when I became pregnant. My son was planned and we had tried for a while. My husband the whole time not really wanting kids was just trying to appease me. My husband was not shy about his not helping with the duties. I took it in stride. I wanted to be a mom and I embraced caring for my son as if I were a single mom.

My marriage started to fall apart when my son was four. We ended up moving two hours away to a new area and attempted to work through things. With that came a surprise. I was pregnant again. This time around my marriage being strained, away from friends and family and my job becoming very demanding, I crumbled. I ran into an ex and that just made matters worse.

My whole pregnancy my husband accused me of having an affair and insisted the child I was carrying was not his but my ex's. To make matters worse my husband told his friends and they would make remarks. I am never shy nor do I ever back down but I felt defeated. I was so depressed. Everyday I had a man whom I was sharing life with and creating another life with degrade me! I won't even write the things he said to me daily. My husband is white, my ex is not. I'll leave it at that.

Fast forward...My son is now nine. I am happily divorced. My ex to this day has not fully accepted our son as his. For the record there was never a doubt in my mind, I could not have possibly been pregnant by anyone else besides my husband. I've begged him to do a paternity test for his own peace of mind.

I'm now with a wonderful man. Insert 3 extra kids here. With him he brought along his Son and two daughters. We've been together for 8 years and now have an 8 month old girl together.

I have more stories than anyone about the good, bad and ugly of this parenthood thing. It is not all unicorns and rainbows! There are days when you ask yourself "did I really sign up for this? But, but...there are more times you sit back and applaud yourself. You created this human. I assure you motherhood has many trial and errors.

There is a lot you will get right along the way. Then there is the time you'll accidentally hit your kid in the head with the car door. He will roll off the bed and it will happen more than once. He will sneak something unspeakable into his mouth and you will freak out. He will also smile at you for the first time and you'll get this warm feeling inside. He will roll for the first time and you will smile. He'll begin to sit up on his own and you will engage in patty cake. You will get down on the floor and cheer on as he tries to crawl.

All these things will happen just in the first 6-8 months of life. Think of the great memories you will build for the many years ahead. There is nothing like a mom and son bond. It will be there forever. A boy loves his mom in a different way. You will soon see for yourself. People who tell you parenthood is awesome or easy are lying or they're high. ha ha. However what parenthood is, it is the most rewarding thing you will do. To stand back at each big stage in his life and say I did that. I created that. Honestly nothing is better than THAT!

Heather Haynes 

Fear and Loathing ...Here Comes the Son

Two Weeks

When I was just under three months pregnant with my son, his dad decided he didn’t want a baby. He never said so, but I could tell. So one day I just decided that plan B would be the plan and that I would have the baby and live with my mother. Then when I was seven months pregnant, my mother died and my world spun out of control. I had just lost my brother two years before, and was already on shaky ground emotionally, but the break up and the losses were a lot for me. Plan C came into action by default. There was no plan C.

My step dad helped me out by paying my salary even though I wasn’t able to work most of  my pregnancy, and my baby's paternal grandparents helped out financially too… but for the most part, emotionally I was on my own. I was a mess. 

My little sister spent the most time with me and I had asked her to help me with my Lamaze class. We showed up to class with my pillow and sat on the floor and listened to the nurse explain a few things – when some seven months pregnant girl asked if she drank chocolate milk, "Would it hurt the baby?"

My sister and I started laughing and one of us (I think Angie) said something about CMS (Chocolate Milk Syndrome) and we just couldn’t stop laughing so we had to leave. I was 33 years old, and had a fair amount of knowledge regarding the human body – and very little patience for those kinds of questions. To be fair, I was an intolerant ass.

The last month of my pregnancy my son's dad finally started coming around to take me to doctor appointments or run errands for me. On my last appointment before my due date when I got to the doctor’s office my blood pressure was high (I had preeclampsia) and my doctor said he thought he better deliver the baby that day. “Wait!” I said. "I don’t know how to breathe!" “Then we will do a C-section.” He said. I was not prepared. Suddenly this little package was going to be here and I was freaked out. How was I going to manage? How would we live? Crap!

The birth was uneventful. I was awake but felt no pain. I was pissed when they took me back to the recovery room and his dad was there holding MY baby, before I had gotten a chance to even look at him. Pissed is an understatement, really-- I held that grudge for years.

Then, I saw him. They laid him on my chest and I could feel his tiny body breathing and all was right with the world. He was very tiny, just 5 pounds, with a head full of black hair, and the most old soul eyes I had ever seen. And when he was 2 or 3 days old he looked at me with his little bobble-head and I knew, he could see right through me, straight to my heart, straight passed my tough exterior, straight passed my mistakes and heartaches and all the shit that I had endured until that moment. My baby.

I made so many mistakes as a parent, I can’t even believe it. (Good thing we can’t get fired LOL). He rolled off the bed I’m sure more than once. I let him sleep with me until he was five and it broke my back. I drank to excess until finally when he was four tears old I sobered up and never suffered another cranky hangover or hideously stupid decision again. But most certainly I yelled when I shouldn't have and didn't when I should have.

To this day, no one gets me like my boy. We don’t have to talk to know what the other is thinking. I am a little nutty about people in my space or getting too close to my face, but I can’t hold him close enough. (Maybe a little bit of a smother mother.)

My son saved my life. I say it all the time. Without him, I don’t know what would have happened to me. Nothing good, I know that. It’s funny how life works out that way. I worked hard to make him proud of me, every single thing I accomplished in my in my life, from artwork, publication of stories, teaching myself everything there is to know about the Marine Corps (so much so that he asked me questions) and 2nd and 3rd careers, all happened because he believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself.

My only advice to new moms is this. 

1. Don’t forget to have a life, don’t stop reading and learning and growing as a human being
2. Continue to follow your passions and share them with your child
3. Don’t cry over spilled milk (or spit up)
4. Listen to advice then do what feels right for you. NONE of us have all the answers.

Katie Wigington