If life is about learning lessons, and that you will keep getting the same lesson over and over until you learn it, I have mine!
Why is it, that certain types of people only seem to turn up, when the house is a wreck, you're screaming at the kids to stop breaking plates as "Science Experiments" The dog has diarrhoea, the baby literally wont stop crying, the dishes are piled and you were too busy to put on deodorant, let alone brush your hair?
Why did they not show up literally 12 hours prior when the kids were hugging and one was sleeping, you had make up on, and the place was spotless? Why is it always the one person who shows up in your hour of chaos, who is the one person you seem to be desperate for their approval?
And why is the one person you are desperate for approval from, a nasty person you want to be nothing like? Seriously, this MUST just be me. This must be a lesson.
I have this neighbour....... She looks like a troll. I'm not kidding. I'm not jealous of her, and would hate her life..... and for some reason I am desperate for her approval. Not outwardly, it takes a lot of soul searching to pull this out of yourself, that she makes me so upset, because for some reason I must be desperate for her approval?
Why?
This woman has no children, and for some unknown reason has to tell me about her happy decision not to procreate. Not just, "Yea, we chose not to have kids." But a continual "Your life is my nightmare." Why does this bug me so bad? Do I really care what Troll lady says? I don't want her life, I would hate it actually. Why do I care??????
There must be some life lesson here. She is the only one who happens to ring the bell, just when Chaos 2013 just happens to be unfolding in my home. It just happens to be her, who comes around at the very moment of the day I don't wish others to appear. It seems I need to prove myself happy to her. That she messed up in some way, and she is confused what happiness looks like.
Maybe she is trying to prove her level of happiness to justify her decisions? Why are we even competing?
I get not having kids! How fun is all that disposable income!? How did you sleep last night? How good is your weekend at the winery?! That's awesome and I get it. I don't look down on people who chose not to parent. Good on you! Why does it hurt so much that she choses to look down on my decision?
I feel like we can't see in people., what we don't possess in ourselves. This means, you and I can't get murdering someone. We can't see liars and cheaters, because we don't lie and cheat. People can blind side us, because we don't see that. What we DO see in others is their nastiness. We see nit picky little issues when people are selfish, or mean. The reality is those traits are in us. You don't want to admit it but they are.
I remember one day in a class, this woman wouldn't shut the fuck up. She was dominating the conversation, and complaining. I went crying to my friend "She is so selfish, and making such a pity party! I needed to talk! " Her response was "What are you doing right now?"..................shit.
So I am working through, why Troll lady bugs me. This reoccurring lesson I am not learning. That I feel the need to prove my decisions and to prove my happiness. Prove I have a clean perfect home, perfect happy kids, an adoring husband and no stretch marks. Well that's a load of shit! I know I'm happy, but if she only irritates me because she is a reflection of me....... I think this means I am trying too hard to prove myself to others.
I should probably stop that. I like me, but I do feel out of place at times. I don't look or act the part I am in, and that bothers me. I feel I have to prove that I am worthy of this life, and that I am proud of my decisions.
Reality is, this life is hard, yet amazing, terrible and joyful, sleepless and fulfilling. I can't let others opinions dominate my existence.
But my good God would it be nice for her to ring at just the moment of peaceful, blissful, happy children, adoring husband, dishes done, hair straight, make up on, 40 minutes a day of my real life. Wishful thinking!
Friday, 18 October 2013
Thursday, 17 October 2013
Why do I only hear about it on Facebook?: Losing Titus
Why do I only hear about it on Facebook?: Losing Titus: Losing Titus- I know what it feels like to be the saddest person in the world. I knew at that moment in time, I was the saddest person st...
Losing Titus
Losing Titus-
I know what it feels like to be the saddest person in the world. I knew at that moment in time, I was the saddest person standing on the earth. The pain was so much, that I couldn't stay in my body, it was like my soul was perched on the airplane seat infront of me, curiously staring at this broken shell of a woman, blankly looking forward. Her chest raising and falling in breath, as if it's the only thing she could physically do. Even blinking too much an effort.
Breath in........now it's time to breathe out Laura..... now breathe back in.
I don't remember getting back to Denver. I don't remember anything but trying to breathe.
What the fuck just happened?
I haven't been able to yet speak of what really happened with Titus. It was, the hardest thing that I have ever been through, and even my husband doesn't know the whole story. I know the way I grieve, and I also know, writing this will help heal me as well. I guess I will just start and see where it goes!
I always knew I had a son. I had a black son, as a matter of fact. You can see the strangness in that statement. Adoption is in my family, and it was another thing I just knew would happen.
Let me start, by letting you know that the process, cost, length of time, and effort you need to go through to adopt a child, is phenomenoal. I am floored with the number of families that actually take the task into completion. If you know an adopted child, you can look at that child and know for a fact their parents worked their asses off for them. It was a full time job for almost a year. When we were finally approved it was great.
Who knew, that my good intentions, and journey of love would end in me lying on a Childrens Hospital waitingroom floor, screaming.
When I saw Lisa's profile (named changed) I was stoked. African American, boy, due in 7 weeks. She had placed a baby before. There was known cocaine in her pregnancy, however I studied endlessly about drug exposure in pregnancy and was happy to accept cocaine. The scariest is actually alcohol (and it's legal!) I didn't know too much about her, but James and I agreed this was the one.
You have to apply. That means you send in your profile book, this is pictures and stories of your family for the birthmother to look through. I will always remember the email "Congratulations! Lisa has accepted you to adopt her baby!" I was thrilled! And scared to death. Yes, you can become a parent over email. I was finally able to speak to her on the phone, 10 days before my flight was booked to America. What do I say? Making that phone call was the most nervous I had ever been. Hi, I'm Laura, I am going to raise your baby as my own thanks! What do you say?! I called, she answered. She was so sweet, and funny, and we got along right away. She asked to name the baby Preston, which floored us, as James and I were going to name the baby Preston! She finally said she had to go, but to call her later. So I did, and never got a response. I called 3 times a day for the rest of the week, and never got a response. The facilitator told me she most likely has changed her mind, and that I should not fly. The reality, was we were going to America anyways, so I was going to go and pray.
I got on the plane still not have spoken to Lisa, for a 26 hour flight into the unknown. I just had faith I was supposed to go. After finally getting to Denver, I got a call that her phone had been shut off, and she wanted to proceed with the adoption. PHEW!!
The next few days were scary as Joliet had gotten pneumonia and was terribly ill. She was admitted to the hospital and was the most sick I had ever seen her, or any kid for that matter. James wasn't going to come for a few more weeks, but after seeing a photo of Joliet in the hospital, he and Haven came to America early.
Not knowing about the baby was actually good, as Joliet needed me. It was a nightmare to watch. She was SO sick. Two days later, Joliet was released from the hospital and I got a phonecall. "Her water broke, and she is in labor." ......Huh... James wasn't here, Joliet was still not great, and Lisa was delivering my baby in Pensicola Florida, whial I was in Denver.... No worries!!!! The excitement was unreal. I got a lastminute flight, but the best I could do was an 8 hour layover in Charolette. I had no choice! I left Joliet with my friend in Denver, got on a plane to Charolette, and my friend picked up James coming in from Australia a few hours later at the airport... easy!
I have never been to the south. I was alone this entire time, but when you are in the south, you are never alone. I didn't get what "southern hospitality" ment until Charolette... I had hours, so I sat in these rows of rocking chairs.. My baby being born just hours away, and I could not get there. I walked to every counter asking if there were any flights to pensicola, I even considered driving, but wouldnt make it sooner. So I sat. A million emotions, on these rocking chairs, alone. At least I was alone for about 2 minutes until the woman next to me asked to take my picture. "Huh?" Barbara was her name, and she was taking 365 picture that year, and I was her picture of the day. She sat and spoke to me for about an hour... just spoke. Then, just as she came, disappeared. The next was a man named Peanuts Taylor from Barbados. He sat and spoke with me for an hour as well. Just speaking. Just being kind. This was an amazing experience.
When my flight to Pensicola FINALLY arrived I was a wreck. It was the tiniest little plane, with 2 seats on each side of the row. I was the last window seat on the end. The woman who came next to me... was about 400lbs. The second I saw her coming I screamed in my head "Don't you dare judge her Laura!!!" It isn't the funnest however sitting next to a person that big, when they need to lift the divider and sit halfway in your seat. Whatever, the point was, I am glad I didn't let my thoughts pass judgement because by the end of the hour and 1/2 flight she was literally holding me whial I was crying in her arms.... The south, go figure. I don't remember her name, but she was on her first flight ever, going to meet her granddaughter. I told her I was going to meet my son, and we ended up having a tear fest in the back of the plane!
10pm. I finally get off in Pensecola. My diaperbag, and empty carseat in tow. Off to the hospital.
I walked into the hospital on tip toes. I was so scared of what to expect. What will she be like? How will this go? My baby is in this building, will I love him? Will we bond?What does he look like? I went to the nurses station and said who I was. I asked that the nurse go tell Lisa I was in the hall so I didn't just barge in. She had a visitor when I arrived at the door. I promise you I wasn't breathing. The nurse says "Lisa, Laura is here." and I hear and audiable gasp. Still not breathing... The next thing I see is this small, beautiful, wonderful woman run into the hall and throw herself on me. We both burst into tears and held eachother crying. The nurses started crying and left us alone. She just kept saying thank you, and I kept saying I was sorry I wasnt here earlier. We probably hugged and cried in the hall for 10 literal minutes.
We went into her room and she told me she was sorry, but she had done cocaine that day. She told me so much, and that her mom hated the adoption plan, but this was my baby. Then she got really excited and asked if I wanted to see him. She phoned for the nurse to bring the baby in.
Can you REALLY Love a baby that's not biologically yours? He sure wont look like you. What if I don't love him?
I would love to write some eloquent description of the moment I saw that child. There are no words.
I picked up the child I had been waiting for, for 15 years. A baby born in my heart 15 years ago, and there he was. "I have been waiting for you." That's all I could get out through the silent tears streaming down my face. Wow. I loved him the exact same overwhelming love, as though I had just given birth to him. I had been looking for you child. My son, my baby. I fed him, and held him, and stayed with Lisa for hours until I had to leave.
I can say that first day, I knew there was something going on with Titus. He was twitching a bit. He was eating and doing OK, but I knew something was off. He would jerk in his movements, and I knew immediately there was something.
I came back the next day, and whial Lisa slept, I sat outside the nursery window for 2 hours. The nurses all had jokes about me. The poor pathetic woman staring through the glass. I sat just staring at him. Crying, taking pictures. But again, I saw him twitching. They released Lisa, and she asked me to stay with her whial she said good-bye to Titus. She said she wasn't sure she wanted to see us again. I understood completely.
Again, there are times in your life, when the english language does not possess the words to describe reality.
Watching this young, brave mother. Part from the baby she loves, because she is strong enough to know it's best. What words are there for that? I sat there silently, praying for her. Yelling prayers for her peace. God take her pain. It was unbareable. I was screaming prayers to God to take her pain in that moment. My pure joy, was based on her devestation. How is that fair? We hugged and cried and I probably told her I loved her 30 times. She left that hospital alone.
The doctors told me to come back the next morning as Titus will be released then. I went back to the hotel, sad, but excited. I sat outside and smoked, and agian in the south, you are never alone. I met an old woman whose husband was at the hospital dying from cancer. I met a marine on his way home to see his wife. The hotel staff knew me by name, and reason for visit. The staff at the hotel were all just as excited as I was for Titus' arival. I woke up the next day with the receptionist praying for me, and everything. Seriously...the south.
I took a before picture of the carseat, with an intention of the after later in the day.
To the hospital!!! The taxi driver's name was Micheal. I asked him why everyone in the South is so kind? He said "We just get excited because we don't get to meet strangers." By the time I reached the hospital and had told my story, he was wiping tears, and praying outloud for us. He gave me his personal number because he needed to know how it all ended. He said he would have us over to meet his family after the adoption. The SOUTH! Was there a happier person on the planet? Um no, I was disgustingly happy. I was skipping to the nursery. And when I got there waiting for the social worker, I looked though the window and he wasn't there. Until I signed the papers, I had no rights to him, so when I called in to see where he was, the nurse was unable to keep the look of horror off her face, but could only tell me he was there, just in the back. Huh.... Ya know, I knew there was a problem, but I wasn't going to aknoledge it. So I sat on the floor. Carseat and diaper bag. And I waited. I saw Josie come into the nurses station through the glass. I knew it was the social worker because she went straight to the nurse watching Titus in the back, then looked at me through the glass. Shit. I knew that look wasn't a "Hey that's great, come get your son!" look. About 5 minutes later she came out from around the corner. "I know who you are. I have seen that look a thousand times." Josie said to me. I tried to smile, but knew bad news was coming. She proceeded to tell me Titus had a seizure and they were bringing him to the NICU. Ok. Change of plans. This eerie, quiet fear entered my body, but it wasn't terror, it was just uneasy. Why is this happening? This isn't the plan. They had to do a video EEG to monitor his movements with brain activity.
The next time I saw him was an overwhelming moment. Walking into a NICU for the first time is like being in the saddest/scariest place on earth. You scrub and scrub, and steralize, and check badges,and names. Then you go through the doors to the overwhelming sound of beeping. Then you see the rows and rows of incubators. That's not scary, until you see what's inside them. I walk to Titus, and was paralised with fear. He was bandaged and wired and monitored like I have never seen on a human. He looked terrible, and I just wanted to grab him and run. My first instinct was to just take him and make it stop. I looked away from him, and my eyes landed on a man sitting next to me holding a 2lbs baby. Now you can think you know what a 2 lbs baby looks like, but ya don't. Jesus, it's scary. I couldn't take my eyes off her. It was terror. Incubator after incubator of teeny tiny babies.
From this test on, for the next two weeks, it's all just about the same everyday. Tests, and not one doctor able to give us a rational diagnosis.
To skip back, I am an American citizen living in Australia. I fallow American adoption procedures, but Australian immigration procedures. Australia has free healthcare, and you can NOT adopt special needs babies, or babies with pre-exisiting conditions. Everyone in our process knew that. It's the cornerstone in our story.
Nothing was diagnosed, so there was no reason to think there was any real issue. It was like blessing after blessing whial I was in the NICU. The Ronald McDonald house took me in. If ever there was a better charity on earth, this place was a true miracle. You have these families going through what you are and more. These volunteers always there with a hug, and food and a place to sleep. You were not alone, you had family. I never paniced that Titus wouldn't come home, because there were always positive reports. However, there was no diagnosis, and it would be an entire awesome day with him, then I would come in the morning to reports of another seizure, or a new medication, or another test they needed to perform. 3 nights, turned to a week, into 10 days, into more.
I chose for the kids and James to stay in Denver from day one of going to get Titus. 48% of mothers change their mind, and there was no use us all being heartbroken if the worst were to happen. I decided to go at it alone, because it would be pointless to hurt the whole family if that happened. In hindsight and the pain I still feel, it was the best decision I had made.
Titus and I had a routine, he would only cry about 30 seconds before I walked in the door. He would smile constantly, and we were great together. The nurse made fun of me, because I bragged to EVERYONE about how beautiful he was. I guess my words were "I am so lucky! Look how lucky I am!" I don't remember, I was just infatuated. Titus my love. I waited for you. I knew you were coming. My beautiful child. If you were to ask what it feels like to have a child, I say it's looking for the love of your life and finding him. I was inlove. Adopted or not, I was inlove. His perfect little face, his smile, his hair that felt like feathers. He was the most beautiful baby, and I guess I wasn't afraid to tell everyone the reality of him being the most beautiful and best baby in the hospital. I was very proud of my "Hercules" He was 7lbs 7oz, and since he was one of the only full term babies he looked like a giant. Oh my handsome baby.
So besides me loving him as fully as a mother could love a baby, it was always paigned with the reality we were in a NICU still. We will have the results "tomorrow." You can sign the adoption papers "tomorrow." We will have another specialist come down "Tomorrow." The beeping is what got to me first I think. The hideous beeping from even sicker babies. Babies stop breathing, babies get sick. Some of the babies weren't going to make it. It was horrible.The beeping. Changing him with all the wires might have gotten me next. Every time I picked him up, I just wanted to rip them off of him. How is he even sleeping strapped to 4 machines at once. The reality of my last day, was the compounding of how many times this baby was hurt by the doctors. Titus had to get blood taken everyday. He had little bandages all over his legs. His mother tested positive for herpes and he needed a herpes medication that literally ate through his veins. They had to keep taking out his IV and putting it somewhere else. That was the worst. Knowing they kept hurting him was the worst. He smiled so much that half the time he would be smiling at the nurse before she jammed him with another needle. I was so afraid they would steal his smile for good. Titus had been through so much pain by day 10 of life, I couldn't get him circumcised. I refused to make him cry again and promised to do my best to keep him from feeling pain growing up, I had already witnessed him go through too much.
The EEG showed seizures, but the doctor predicted he would grow out of them. A second EEG however, showed more seizures and they put him on phenobarbitol. Yuck, poor guy. Another blessing was my doctor was an adoptive parent. I told him these seizures had to be an "episode" they could not be a "condition." Or Ty couldn't be adopted. It was like a miracle, when he signed his discharge papers as Titus having an episode. Miracle.
When you are in hospitals for a long time, you see doctors as what they are, just people. I didn't agree with what they were saying about Titus, but had no leg to stand on. I still don't believe what had happened the whole time or even at the end is what his true diagnosis was or is. However, you really are very powerless in the big picture of medicine. So I fallowed my orders. I pumped him full of phenobarbitol and cringed as I did it. We fallowed our routine, and finally, FINALLY was released to go home. I signed my adoption papers, and went to the hospital to pick up my son. I had grown so close to the nurses, a nurse named Laura especially that we cried as she walked me out to the taxi waiting to drive me back to the Ronald McDonald house. I gave her the biggest hug, and was never so thrilled as I buckled him in the cab. What an amazing moment. All we had just went through together, he was unhooked from machines, there was no more needles, there was no more beeping. There was just mom and son going home. My perfect, beautiful boy, was finally going home.
He must have loved that bedroom of quiet we had that day and night!! I just sat staring at him most the afternoon. I kinda forgot what it was like to have a baby! I took pictures, and James sent out his "It's Official" Email! I posted my "Mission Complete" on Facebook. This crazy journey was done, my family complete. I was waiting for you child.
During my stay, I could not breastfeed Titus, because I was not his legal guardian until papers were signed. I could not sign papers until; he was diagnosed as NOT having a pre-exisiting condition. I was able to breastfeed him that day, and was so stinking excited tht after 2 weeks on a bottle he jumped right to the breast with no issue. Oh I was so stoked. So that night I breastfed him again. As he fed, he began to shake. It started a quick jerk, then he started seizing in my arms. No.... No this isn't happening....... I held him on my chest and ran down the stairs as he jerked. This tiny baby... No not again..... A mother was in the hall and I must have gotten out he was seizing as she put us in her car and sped back to the hospital. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The receptionist brought us straight back to the ER and I knew in that moment he wasn't coming home. I knew damn well this would now be a condition and Australia would not give him a visa.... What the fuck is happening.
I was hysterical. I was screaming and shaking. I was screaming at everyone. Some resident doctor came in and asked to do a spinal tap. I'm not sure what I said, but remember him walking backwards out of the room with his arms up, as I would be damned if they were going to give this baby another needle! I'm pretty sure there was never such a hysterical woman in his career, sorry buddy, but no you will not hurt him. I promised Titus.
They needed to give him an IV and told me to go wait in the hall. That is the beginning of becoming the saddest person on the face of the earth.
I walked into the hall and collapsed on the floor. Screaming. Why did God do this?! Why is this happening? I did everything right! I called Josie, and knew she was busy, but I was screaming into the phone I can't do this. I can't do it, I can't do it. I was rocking like a child on the floor. My baby is sick, he's so sick and I can't fix it! I can't fix it and the beeping!
This beautiful woman comes out of nowhere holding a child and she takes my hand and stands there in silence as I cry. I shake and rock and almost vomit, sitting on the floor. She stands still. Just holding my hand..... Just holding my hand.
He has to eat. "He's hungry, I need formula now. Right now or I'm fucking leaving with him! Fuck! Just let me go home, please let me go home! This is a mistake, we are leaving let me go home!" I had no control over anything, except feeding that baby in that moment. So I fed him.... I sat him, rocking, and fed him.
They tell me he has to be admitted and I carry him shaking in a wheelchair up to his room. The nurses tell me to call tomorrow.
I kissed Titus and told him how much I love and will always love him. I said how sorry I was that this was happening and I prayed over his bed. I walked away from my baby in a hospital room at 3 in the morning... I knew deep down I would never see him again. There are times when there are no words in the English language to describe something. This is one of those times.
"We will move back to America......... I will learn to handle the seizures........" This wasn't fair to Haven and Joliet. This wasn't the way it was ment to be.
I got on the plane the next day, a plane ticket for Titus and I already booked.... I remember standing outside the terminal wondering if the man next to me knew, that at that moment I was the saddest person on the planet. I wondered if it would hurt less to walk into the traffic behind me. I wondered how I was going to tell Haven. I wondered if I was going to get a divorce because I would try to force James into adopting a baby we couldn't have, and weren't able to care for. She trusted me. She will never forgive me. She trusted me with her baby and I can't take him. I can't protect him.
Breathe.... Breathe in Laura..... now breathe out.......
It has been over a year now and I miss Titus. It's not a constant tearing at my chest, and constant nausea anymore. He was adopted the next day by an American family who will be able to get access to medicare for him. He will be loved. I just know he would have been loved best by me. He was and is loved best by me. I wrote them a letter and sent pictures, but God knows if the attorney will send it. He was basically a baby broker and had the empathy of a hornet.
Within days of leaving, I knew exactly why I was there. Between prayers of yelling at God, and wondering why he would say yes so many times, only to end it with a no, why? I knew why. Losing Titus was the hardest thing I have ever been through and hopefully it was the hardest time for Titus as well. Hopefully his life is pain free and amazing from now forward. I knew God put him in my heart 15 years ago, to give me the time, motivation, and energy to go through the adoption process, to be with him for that time. God made the adoption so urgent, so I would love him, when he needed love the most. I was just a tool, and sometimes Gods plan for you isn't about you. This was one of those times. It may have hurt, more than my soul has ever hurt, but I know why it happened. I know that babies without a bond to a human within 10 days can have attachment disorders, and other disabilities. I know because he was bonded to me, he will be able to bond with his mother now. Even though the pain was so unbearable, I couldn't function. I know the why. I know God's plan was bigger than mine, and I am grateful for our time together.
It hurt so bad, I was a shell. My soul sat perched on the airplane seat in front of me. Sadly watching this woman who could barely breathe. I had lost Titus.
I know what it feels like to be the saddest person in the world. I knew at that moment in time, I was the saddest person standing on the earth. The pain was so much, that I couldn't stay in my body, it was like my soul was perched on the airplane seat infront of me, curiously staring at this broken shell of a woman, blankly looking forward. Her chest raising and falling in breath, as if it's the only thing she could physically do. Even blinking too much an effort.
Breath in........now it's time to breathe out Laura..... now breathe back in.
I don't remember getting back to Denver. I don't remember anything but trying to breathe.
What the fuck just happened?
I haven't been able to yet speak of what really happened with Titus. It was, the hardest thing that I have ever been through, and even my husband doesn't know the whole story. I know the way I grieve, and I also know, writing this will help heal me as well. I guess I will just start and see where it goes!
I always knew I had a son. I had a black son, as a matter of fact. You can see the strangness in that statement. Adoption is in my family, and it was another thing I just knew would happen.
Let me start, by letting you know that the process, cost, length of time, and effort you need to go through to adopt a child, is phenomenoal. I am floored with the number of families that actually take the task into completion. If you know an adopted child, you can look at that child and know for a fact their parents worked their asses off for them. It was a full time job for almost a year. When we were finally approved it was great.
Who knew, that my good intentions, and journey of love would end in me lying on a Childrens Hospital waitingroom floor, screaming.
When I saw Lisa's profile (named changed) I was stoked. African American, boy, due in 7 weeks. She had placed a baby before. There was known cocaine in her pregnancy, however I studied endlessly about drug exposure in pregnancy and was happy to accept cocaine. The scariest is actually alcohol (and it's legal!) I didn't know too much about her, but James and I agreed this was the one.
You have to apply. That means you send in your profile book, this is pictures and stories of your family for the birthmother to look through. I will always remember the email "Congratulations! Lisa has accepted you to adopt her baby!" I was thrilled! And scared to death. Yes, you can become a parent over email. I was finally able to speak to her on the phone, 10 days before my flight was booked to America. What do I say? Making that phone call was the most nervous I had ever been. Hi, I'm Laura, I am going to raise your baby as my own thanks! What do you say?! I called, she answered. She was so sweet, and funny, and we got along right away. She asked to name the baby Preston, which floored us, as James and I were going to name the baby Preston! She finally said she had to go, but to call her later. So I did, and never got a response. I called 3 times a day for the rest of the week, and never got a response. The facilitator told me she most likely has changed her mind, and that I should not fly. The reality, was we were going to America anyways, so I was going to go and pray.
I got on the plane still not have spoken to Lisa, for a 26 hour flight into the unknown. I just had faith I was supposed to go. After finally getting to Denver, I got a call that her phone had been shut off, and she wanted to proceed with the adoption. PHEW!!
The next few days were scary as Joliet had gotten pneumonia and was terribly ill. She was admitted to the hospital and was the most sick I had ever seen her, or any kid for that matter. James wasn't going to come for a few more weeks, but after seeing a photo of Joliet in the hospital, he and Haven came to America early.
Not knowing about the baby was actually good, as Joliet needed me. It was a nightmare to watch. She was SO sick. Two days later, Joliet was released from the hospital and I got a phonecall. "Her water broke, and she is in labor." ......Huh... James wasn't here, Joliet was still not great, and Lisa was delivering my baby in Pensicola Florida, whial I was in Denver.... No worries!!!! The excitement was unreal. I got a lastminute flight, but the best I could do was an 8 hour layover in Charolette. I had no choice! I left Joliet with my friend in Denver, got on a plane to Charolette, and my friend picked up James coming in from Australia a few hours later at the airport... easy!
I have never been to the south. I was alone this entire time, but when you are in the south, you are never alone. I didn't get what "southern hospitality" ment until Charolette... I had hours, so I sat in these rows of rocking chairs.. My baby being born just hours away, and I could not get there. I walked to every counter asking if there were any flights to pensicola, I even considered driving, but wouldnt make it sooner. So I sat. A million emotions, on these rocking chairs, alone. At least I was alone for about 2 minutes until the woman next to me asked to take my picture. "Huh?" Barbara was her name, and she was taking 365 picture that year, and I was her picture of the day. She sat and spoke to me for about an hour... just spoke. Then, just as she came, disappeared. The next was a man named Peanuts Taylor from Barbados. He sat and spoke with me for an hour as well. Just speaking. Just being kind. This was an amazing experience.
When my flight to Pensicola FINALLY arrived I was a wreck. It was the tiniest little plane, with 2 seats on each side of the row. I was the last window seat on the end. The woman who came next to me... was about 400lbs. The second I saw her coming I screamed in my head "Don't you dare judge her Laura!!!" It isn't the funnest however sitting next to a person that big, when they need to lift the divider and sit halfway in your seat. Whatever, the point was, I am glad I didn't let my thoughts pass judgement because by the end of the hour and 1/2 flight she was literally holding me whial I was crying in her arms.... The south, go figure. I don't remember her name, but she was on her first flight ever, going to meet her granddaughter. I told her I was going to meet my son, and we ended up having a tear fest in the back of the plane!
10pm. I finally get off in Pensecola. My diaperbag, and empty carseat in tow. Off to the hospital.
I walked into the hospital on tip toes. I was so scared of what to expect. What will she be like? How will this go? My baby is in this building, will I love him? Will we bond?What does he look like? I went to the nurses station and said who I was. I asked that the nurse go tell Lisa I was in the hall so I didn't just barge in. She had a visitor when I arrived at the door. I promise you I wasn't breathing. The nurse says "Lisa, Laura is here." and I hear and audiable gasp. Still not breathing... The next thing I see is this small, beautiful, wonderful woman run into the hall and throw herself on me. We both burst into tears and held eachother crying. The nurses started crying and left us alone. She just kept saying thank you, and I kept saying I was sorry I wasnt here earlier. We probably hugged and cried in the hall for 10 literal minutes.
We went into her room and she told me she was sorry, but she had done cocaine that day. She told me so much, and that her mom hated the adoption plan, but this was my baby. Then she got really excited and asked if I wanted to see him. She phoned for the nurse to bring the baby in.
Can you REALLY Love a baby that's not biologically yours? He sure wont look like you. What if I don't love him?
I would love to write some eloquent description of the moment I saw that child. There are no words.
I picked up the child I had been waiting for, for 15 years. A baby born in my heart 15 years ago, and there he was. "I have been waiting for you." That's all I could get out through the silent tears streaming down my face. Wow. I loved him the exact same overwhelming love, as though I had just given birth to him. I had been looking for you child. My son, my baby. I fed him, and held him, and stayed with Lisa for hours until I had to leave.
I can say that first day, I knew there was something going on with Titus. He was twitching a bit. He was eating and doing OK, but I knew something was off. He would jerk in his movements, and I knew immediately there was something.
I came back the next day, and whial Lisa slept, I sat outside the nursery window for 2 hours. The nurses all had jokes about me. The poor pathetic woman staring through the glass. I sat just staring at him. Crying, taking pictures. But again, I saw him twitching. They released Lisa, and she asked me to stay with her whial she said good-bye to Titus. She said she wasn't sure she wanted to see us again. I understood completely.
Again, there are times in your life, when the english language does not possess the words to describe reality.
Watching this young, brave mother. Part from the baby she loves, because she is strong enough to know it's best. What words are there for that? I sat there silently, praying for her. Yelling prayers for her peace. God take her pain. It was unbareable. I was screaming prayers to God to take her pain in that moment. My pure joy, was based on her devestation. How is that fair? We hugged and cried and I probably told her I loved her 30 times. She left that hospital alone.
The doctors told me to come back the next morning as Titus will be released then. I went back to the hotel, sad, but excited. I sat outside and smoked, and agian in the south, you are never alone. I met an old woman whose husband was at the hospital dying from cancer. I met a marine on his way home to see his wife. The hotel staff knew me by name, and reason for visit. The staff at the hotel were all just as excited as I was for Titus' arival. I woke up the next day with the receptionist praying for me, and everything. Seriously...the south.
I took a before picture of the carseat, with an intention of the after later in the day.
To the hospital!!! The taxi driver's name was Micheal. I asked him why everyone in the South is so kind? He said "We just get excited because we don't get to meet strangers." By the time I reached the hospital and had told my story, he was wiping tears, and praying outloud for us. He gave me his personal number because he needed to know how it all ended. He said he would have us over to meet his family after the adoption. The SOUTH! Was there a happier person on the planet? Um no, I was disgustingly happy. I was skipping to the nursery. And when I got there waiting for the social worker, I looked though the window and he wasn't there. Until I signed the papers, I had no rights to him, so when I called in to see where he was, the nurse was unable to keep the look of horror off her face, but could only tell me he was there, just in the back. Huh.... Ya know, I knew there was a problem, but I wasn't going to aknoledge it. So I sat on the floor. Carseat and diaper bag. And I waited. I saw Josie come into the nurses station through the glass. I knew it was the social worker because she went straight to the nurse watching Titus in the back, then looked at me through the glass. Shit. I knew that look wasn't a "Hey that's great, come get your son!" look. About 5 minutes later she came out from around the corner. "I know who you are. I have seen that look a thousand times." Josie said to me. I tried to smile, but knew bad news was coming. She proceeded to tell me Titus had a seizure and they were bringing him to the NICU. Ok. Change of plans. This eerie, quiet fear entered my body, but it wasn't terror, it was just uneasy. Why is this happening? This isn't the plan. They had to do a video EEG to monitor his movements with brain activity.
The next time I saw him was an overwhelming moment. Walking into a NICU for the first time is like being in the saddest/scariest place on earth. You scrub and scrub, and steralize, and check badges,and names. Then you go through the doors to the overwhelming sound of beeping. Then you see the rows and rows of incubators. That's not scary, until you see what's inside them. I walk to Titus, and was paralised with fear. He was bandaged and wired and monitored like I have never seen on a human. He looked terrible, and I just wanted to grab him and run. My first instinct was to just take him and make it stop. I looked away from him, and my eyes landed on a man sitting next to me holding a 2lbs baby. Now you can think you know what a 2 lbs baby looks like, but ya don't. Jesus, it's scary. I couldn't take my eyes off her. It was terror. Incubator after incubator of teeny tiny babies.
From this test on, for the next two weeks, it's all just about the same everyday. Tests, and not one doctor able to give us a rational diagnosis.
To skip back, I am an American citizen living in Australia. I fallow American adoption procedures, but Australian immigration procedures. Australia has free healthcare, and you can NOT adopt special needs babies, or babies with pre-exisiting conditions. Everyone in our process knew that. It's the cornerstone in our story.
Nothing was diagnosed, so there was no reason to think there was any real issue. It was like blessing after blessing whial I was in the NICU. The Ronald McDonald house took me in. If ever there was a better charity on earth, this place was a true miracle. You have these families going through what you are and more. These volunteers always there with a hug, and food and a place to sleep. You were not alone, you had family. I never paniced that Titus wouldn't come home, because there were always positive reports. However, there was no diagnosis, and it would be an entire awesome day with him, then I would come in the morning to reports of another seizure, or a new medication, or another test they needed to perform. 3 nights, turned to a week, into 10 days, into more.
I chose for the kids and James to stay in Denver from day one of going to get Titus. 48% of mothers change their mind, and there was no use us all being heartbroken if the worst were to happen. I decided to go at it alone, because it would be pointless to hurt the whole family if that happened. In hindsight and the pain I still feel, it was the best decision I had made.
Titus and I had a routine, he would only cry about 30 seconds before I walked in the door. He would smile constantly, and we were great together. The nurse made fun of me, because I bragged to EVERYONE about how beautiful he was. I guess my words were "I am so lucky! Look how lucky I am!" I don't remember, I was just infatuated. Titus my love. I waited for you. I knew you were coming. My beautiful child. If you were to ask what it feels like to have a child, I say it's looking for the love of your life and finding him. I was inlove. Adopted or not, I was inlove. His perfect little face, his smile, his hair that felt like feathers. He was the most beautiful baby, and I guess I wasn't afraid to tell everyone the reality of him being the most beautiful and best baby in the hospital. I was very proud of my "Hercules" He was 7lbs 7oz, and since he was one of the only full term babies he looked like a giant. Oh my handsome baby.
So besides me loving him as fully as a mother could love a baby, it was always paigned with the reality we were in a NICU still. We will have the results "tomorrow." You can sign the adoption papers "tomorrow." We will have another specialist come down "Tomorrow." The beeping is what got to me first I think. The hideous beeping from even sicker babies. Babies stop breathing, babies get sick. Some of the babies weren't going to make it. It was horrible.The beeping. Changing him with all the wires might have gotten me next. Every time I picked him up, I just wanted to rip them off of him. How is he even sleeping strapped to 4 machines at once. The reality of my last day, was the compounding of how many times this baby was hurt by the doctors. Titus had to get blood taken everyday. He had little bandages all over his legs. His mother tested positive for herpes and he needed a herpes medication that literally ate through his veins. They had to keep taking out his IV and putting it somewhere else. That was the worst. Knowing they kept hurting him was the worst. He smiled so much that half the time he would be smiling at the nurse before she jammed him with another needle. I was so afraid they would steal his smile for good. Titus had been through so much pain by day 10 of life, I couldn't get him circumcised. I refused to make him cry again and promised to do my best to keep him from feeling pain growing up, I had already witnessed him go through too much.
The EEG showed seizures, but the doctor predicted he would grow out of them. A second EEG however, showed more seizures and they put him on phenobarbitol. Yuck, poor guy. Another blessing was my doctor was an adoptive parent. I told him these seizures had to be an "episode" they could not be a "condition." Or Ty couldn't be adopted. It was like a miracle, when he signed his discharge papers as Titus having an episode. Miracle.
When you are in hospitals for a long time, you see doctors as what they are, just people. I didn't agree with what they were saying about Titus, but had no leg to stand on. I still don't believe what had happened the whole time or even at the end is what his true diagnosis was or is. However, you really are very powerless in the big picture of medicine. So I fallowed my orders. I pumped him full of phenobarbitol and cringed as I did it. We fallowed our routine, and finally, FINALLY was released to go home. I signed my adoption papers, and went to the hospital to pick up my son. I had grown so close to the nurses, a nurse named Laura especially that we cried as she walked me out to the taxi waiting to drive me back to the Ronald McDonald house. I gave her the biggest hug, and was never so thrilled as I buckled him in the cab. What an amazing moment. All we had just went through together, he was unhooked from machines, there was no more needles, there was no more beeping. There was just mom and son going home. My perfect, beautiful boy, was finally going home.
He must have loved that bedroom of quiet we had that day and night!! I just sat staring at him most the afternoon. I kinda forgot what it was like to have a baby! I took pictures, and James sent out his "It's Official" Email! I posted my "Mission Complete" on Facebook. This crazy journey was done, my family complete. I was waiting for you child.
During my stay, I could not breastfeed Titus, because I was not his legal guardian until papers were signed. I could not sign papers until; he was diagnosed as NOT having a pre-exisiting condition. I was able to breastfeed him that day, and was so stinking excited tht after 2 weeks on a bottle he jumped right to the breast with no issue. Oh I was so stoked. So that night I breastfed him again. As he fed, he began to shake. It started a quick jerk, then he started seizing in my arms. No.... No this isn't happening....... I held him on my chest and ran down the stairs as he jerked. This tiny baby... No not again..... A mother was in the hall and I must have gotten out he was seizing as she put us in her car and sped back to the hospital. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The receptionist brought us straight back to the ER and I knew in that moment he wasn't coming home. I knew damn well this would now be a condition and Australia would not give him a visa.... What the fuck is happening.
I was hysterical. I was screaming and shaking. I was screaming at everyone. Some resident doctor came in and asked to do a spinal tap. I'm not sure what I said, but remember him walking backwards out of the room with his arms up, as I would be damned if they were going to give this baby another needle! I'm pretty sure there was never such a hysterical woman in his career, sorry buddy, but no you will not hurt him. I promised Titus.
They needed to give him an IV and told me to go wait in the hall. That is the beginning of becoming the saddest person on the face of the earth.
I walked into the hall and collapsed on the floor. Screaming. Why did God do this?! Why is this happening? I did everything right! I called Josie, and knew she was busy, but I was screaming into the phone I can't do this. I can't do it, I can't do it. I was rocking like a child on the floor. My baby is sick, he's so sick and I can't fix it! I can't fix it and the beeping!
This beautiful woman comes out of nowhere holding a child and she takes my hand and stands there in silence as I cry. I shake and rock and almost vomit, sitting on the floor. She stands still. Just holding my hand..... Just holding my hand.
He has to eat. "He's hungry, I need formula now. Right now or I'm fucking leaving with him! Fuck! Just let me go home, please let me go home! This is a mistake, we are leaving let me go home!" I had no control over anything, except feeding that baby in that moment. So I fed him.... I sat him, rocking, and fed him.
They tell me he has to be admitted and I carry him shaking in a wheelchair up to his room. The nurses tell me to call tomorrow.
I kissed Titus and told him how much I love and will always love him. I said how sorry I was that this was happening and I prayed over his bed. I walked away from my baby in a hospital room at 3 in the morning... I knew deep down I would never see him again. There are times when there are no words in the English language to describe something. This is one of those times.
"We will move back to America......... I will learn to handle the seizures........" This wasn't fair to Haven and Joliet. This wasn't the way it was ment to be.
I got on the plane the next day, a plane ticket for Titus and I already booked.... I remember standing outside the terminal wondering if the man next to me knew, that at that moment I was the saddest person on the planet. I wondered if it would hurt less to walk into the traffic behind me. I wondered how I was going to tell Haven. I wondered if I was going to get a divorce because I would try to force James into adopting a baby we couldn't have, and weren't able to care for. She trusted me. She will never forgive me. She trusted me with her baby and I can't take him. I can't protect him.
Breathe.... Breathe in Laura..... now breathe out.......
It has been over a year now and I miss Titus. It's not a constant tearing at my chest, and constant nausea anymore. He was adopted the next day by an American family who will be able to get access to medicare for him. He will be loved. I just know he would have been loved best by me. He was and is loved best by me. I wrote them a letter and sent pictures, but God knows if the attorney will send it. He was basically a baby broker and had the empathy of a hornet.
Within days of leaving, I knew exactly why I was there. Between prayers of yelling at God, and wondering why he would say yes so many times, only to end it with a no, why? I knew why. Losing Titus was the hardest thing I have ever been through and hopefully it was the hardest time for Titus as well. Hopefully his life is pain free and amazing from now forward. I knew God put him in my heart 15 years ago, to give me the time, motivation, and energy to go through the adoption process, to be with him for that time. God made the adoption so urgent, so I would love him, when he needed love the most. I was just a tool, and sometimes Gods plan for you isn't about you. This was one of those times. It may have hurt, more than my soul has ever hurt, but I know why it happened. I know that babies without a bond to a human within 10 days can have attachment disorders, and other disabilities. I know because he was bonded to me, he will be able to bond with his mother now. Even though the pain was so unbearable, I couldn't function. I know the why. I know God's plan was bigger than mine, and I am grateful for our time together.
It hurt so bad, I was a shell. My soul sat perched on the airplane seat in front of me. Sadly watching this woman who could barely breathe. I had lost Titus.
Wednesday, 16 October 2013
The guide to being a perfect wife and mother
Congratulations! You are now married and with child. The easiest best job you could hope for yea? You fail! There is no way around it, you.... Will fail miserably at this job.
I know at the beginning you saw this adventure as a wistful blissful fairy tale of smiles and joy.... And then you wake up. You fail.
The prince charming starts to leave his underwear on the floor next to the basket... Like touching the fucking basket but on the floor. He pays zero attention to you, works too much, asks about you too little. His amazing hobbies which you used to adore, now take time from you and money. His dreams of being in a band were so sexy, but now are such a annoying waste of time to you.... You fail.
The kids? Those bundles of joy? Well your baby hasn't slept in 5 fucking months and if you could ever get back into jeans... Not even skinny jeans, just out of track pants, you may have enough self esteem and energy to put make up on. Your ideas of feeding your children organic fresh vegan meals and sewing their clothes by hand is over taken by praying your two year old will just stop eating sand, and hand sewn clothes; you forgot you don't know how to sew, and ain't nobody got time for that! You fail.
You were going to be the football coach and teachers aide, you were going to carpool and tutor the neighbourhood kids.. You didn't realise until now however, how much you truly dislike other people's children. You fail.
The reality is you are not alone, and you are still perfect and amazing for so many reasons. However, marriage and parenting is work. If it wasn't, 51% of people wouldn't be divorced. You wanna fight for marriage equality or non equality, its more like divorce equality! So you make a choice, and I hate to say it but to make this crazy reality that fair tale you dreamt of, YOU have to make it happen.
I know I know, if the husband was just more attentive, and the baby would just sleep, or if the boy would just stop ruining every shirt he owns..... But no..... Happiness is a choice, and it's your choice. Good news is? This can be fun. It starts with you.
I watch couples, I listen to what they say and complain about. I find the happy people are the ones that take full responsibility for their lives and their actions, they will always ask "What is my part here."
There is no perfect way to parent, or to be married. There are many ways to fillet a fish, however there seems some sure fire ways how NOT to be happy! Let's discuss.
1. Do not ever speak poorly about your spouse to friends or family. Having a best girlfriend to vent to, or asking for serious advice on a situation is nessesary. Bashing your spouse is never ok. Your friends and family will only remember what bad you told them, and they aren't there for the kiss and make up. It gets old listening to someone demean their partner. We all wanna punch our spouse in the groin, but we make up! Adding others in your marriage is not helpful.
2. Give what you want. You can not change anyone. If you need more attention, give more. If you need something, give something first. If you want your spouse to help clean up, hear what they need from you and do that first. You give first, only then will you get. That's the beauty of marriage.
3. Ask. No one knows what you want. You have to ask for it in plain English. I need you to do the dishes. I need you to tell me I look good. I need you to bring me flowers once in awhile. I find that people in love will do just about anything, if you just ask. Minus the nagging and bitching.
4. Let them do their things on your terms. When James comes home on a Friday and announces he's going mountain biking in the morning, it would feel like I was not getting a break from the kids and had an automatic 6 day work week! So, I know if James doesn't mountian bike he will not want to live, so I do it on my terms. During the week I set myself up to be prepared for him to go, get a kid to a friends and plan an outing. Then I offer for him to go. If I offer enough, he isn't deprived and I am not overwhelmed. His needs on my terms. Since implementing this, I have noticed the next weekend he always offers that I can go get a massage and spend some me time. All on his own!
This works for sex too. If you have little ones and sleeping is such a bigger turn on than sex, remember its not for him. Give him what he needs on your terms.
5. Spend time away from your kids. Your spouse had your full attention, now they have a third or fourth of it. Make dates a priority. Watching tv alone is not good enough.
6. Make a scene when he walks in the door. Your husband doesn't rush home from work? How do you greet him? With complaining and nagging? How about a hug and smile! How about a celebration instead! Make him adore coming home!
7. APOLOGISE! I apologize to my kids and husband on a daily basis. I take responsibility when I do something wrong. Since Haven was 2, I have offered to pay for his therapy when he is 30. I fully know I will not screw him up intentionally, but I will inevitably screw him up in some way. You will too. You aren't perfect, you screw up, make mistakes, yell too much, don't do enough, you fail. The good news is so does everyone else!
If we can just take a bit of the pressure off, listen to our grandparents, and focus our lives on what's important, we can have that fairy tale ending. Our happiness is only made available within ourselves first. Give yourself a break and try to enjoy those sleepless, sand eating little people, and the underwear slinging, workaholic, amazing man next to you at night!
You win!
I know at the beginning you saw this adventure as a wistful blissful fairy tale of smiles and joy.... And then you wake up. You fail.
The prince charming starts to leave his underwear on the floor next to the basket... Like touching the fucking basket but on the floor. He pays zero attention to you, works too much, asks about you too little. His amazing hobbies which you used to adore, now take time from you and money. His dreams of being in a band were so sexy, but now are such a annoying waste of time to you.... You fail.
The kids? Those bundles of joy? Well your baby hasn't slept in 5 fucking months and if you could ever get back into jeans... Not even skinny jeans, just out of track pants, you may have enough self esteem and energy to put make up on. Your ideas of feeding your children organic fresh vegan meals and sewing their clothes by hand is over taken by praying your two year old will just stop eating sand, and hand sewn clothes; you forgot you don't know how to sew, and ain't nobody got time for that! You fail.
You were going to be the football coach and teachers aide, you were going to carpool and tutor the neighbourhood kids.. You didn't realise until now however, how much you truly dislike other people's children. You fail.
The reality is you are not alone, and you are still perfect and amazing for so many reasons. However, marriage and parenting is work. If it wasn't, 51% of people wouldn't be divorced. You wanna fight for marriage equality or non equality, its more like divorce equality! So you make a choice, and I hate to say it but to make this crazy reality that fair tale you dreamt of, YOU have to make it happen.
I know I know, if the husband was just more attentive, and the baby would just sleep, or if the boy would just stop ruining every shirt he owns..... But no..... Happiness is a choice, and it's your choice. Good news is? This can be fun. It starts with you.
I watch couples, I listen to what they say and complain about. I find the happy people are the ones that take full responsibility for their lives and their actions, they will always ask "What is my part here."
There is no perfect way to parent, or to be married. There are many ways to fillet a fish, however there seems some sure fire ways how NOT to be happy! Let's discuss.
1. Do not ever speak poorly about your spouse to friends or family. Having a best girlfriend to vent to, or asking for serious advice on a situation is nessesary. Bashing your spouse is never ok. Your friends and family will only remember what bad you told them, and they aren't there for the kiss and make up. It gets old listening to someone demean their partner. We all wanna punch our spouse in the groin, but we make up! Adding others in your marriage is not helpful.
2. Give what you want. You can not change anyone. If you need more attention, give more. If you need something, give something first. If you want your spouse to help clean up, hear what they need from you and do that first. You give first, only then will you get. That's the beauty of marriage.
3. Ask. No one knows what you want. You have to ask for it in plain English. I need you to do the dishes. I need you to tell me I look good. I need you to bring me flowers once in awhile. I find that people in love will do just about anything, if you just ask. Minus the nagging and bitching.
4. Let them do their things on your terms. When James comes home on a Friday and announces he's going mountain biking in the morning, it would feel like I was not getting a break from the kids and had an automatic 6 day work week! So, I know if James doesn't mountian bike he will not want to live, so I do it on my terms. During the week I set myself up to be prepared for him to go, get a kid to a friends and plan an outing. Then I offer for him to go. If I offer enough, he isn't deprived and I am not overwhelmed. His needs on my terms. Since implementing this, I have noticed the next weekend he always offers that I can go get a massage and spend some me time. All on his own!
This works for sex too. If you have little ones and sleeping is such a bigger turn on than sex, remember its not for him. Give him what he needs on your terms.
5. Spend time away from your kids. Your spouse had your full attention, now they have a third or fourth of it. Make dates a priority. Watching tv alone is not good enough.
6. Make a scene when he walks in the door. Your husband doesn't rush home from work? How do you greet him? With complaining and nagging? How about a hug and smile! How about a celebration instead! Make him adore coming home!
7. APOLOGISE! I apologize to my kids and husband on a daily basis. I take responsibility when I do something wrong. Since Haven was 2, I have offered to pay for his therapy when he is 30. I fully know I will not screw him up intentionally, but I will inevitably screw him up in some way. You will too. You aren't perfect, you screw up, make mistakes, yell too much, don't do enough, you fail. The good news is so does everyone else!
If we can just take a bit of the pressure off, listen to our grandparents, and focus our lives on what's important, we can have that fairy tale ending. Our happiness is only made available within ourselves first. Give yourself a break and try to enjoy those sleepless, sand eating little people, and the underwear slinging, workaholic, amazing man next to you at night!
You win!
Sunday, 29 September 2013
Love your enemy= Good Read!
Love my enemy? What does that actually mean?
Love my enemy? That sounds like a stupid idea, he’s a fucking jerk! He’s mean to me! He calls me names, put’s me down. My enemy terrorizes me, hates me, abuses me. My enemy hates who I am and what I believe. My enemy hates me for the person I am. Love him? He hates me.
And because of this- is why he needs love the most.
Happy people do not cause other people intentional unhappiness. If you are a happy person, you would NEVER hurt someone else.
When someone attacks you for whatever reason, you are hurt. You immediate response is to attack back and make that person hurt as much as they have hurt you. This happens most in intimate relationships. You hate your partner at times because you have opened yourself up so wide that any hurt, is a deep hurt.
When we respond in retaliation to our attacker, it only ends in war. Hurt responding with hurt, it’s just who can hurt more. No one wins, both sides are lost and wounded. War is only who can hurt the most. That is never peace.
So who would an appropriate enemy be to love? How can you get started? I would like to nominate
Bernard Gaynor!!!! Take a moment and read his headlines. I personally for obvious reasons read these comments and bigoted hatred, and my entire body wants to attack him. He hurts me. He hurts my family, and my friends. If you are friends of mine, I am sure he hurts you too.
If I take a step back, wipe away his face, and read the words of a terribly hurt and broken man. He has obviously been so hurt and tormented (possibly be being gay himself. No joke intended) that he has to attack other people and pretend it’s God. Right. That’s what the bible says! A sane, healthy, happy man could NEVER say these words. Only a man living in some serious fear could possibly judge people so ignorantly and with such hate. It’s like hitting a child. It’s like if a little kid, or abusing a sick person! To hate is to be sick. To judge is to be sickest.
So if I fallowed instinct, I would attack. I would hurt him with words as he has hurt me. What would the outcome be? 2 more broken people. So I will make the choice to love. I will love my enemy. Because he can’t hate what never hurts him.
I be-friend him on Facebook. I write him a letter. Please read, and feel free to copy and send to your enemies as well. Hell, send it to Bernard Gaynor!
Dear ___Bernard Gaynor______________,
I am so sorry for whomever has hurt you so badly, you feel you need to spread hatred. I am
Because people are only bigots out of fear and ignorance. I am a Christian saved by grace and would love to befriend you! I’m sorry you are hurt so badly you feel you need to harm others. I hope I can show you some love instead of your hate.
I would love to hear what has happened to fuel your hate, and get to know you on a deeper level. I would love to help relieve your burden of hurting people, because it only eats at you. A kind Bernard Gaynor who spreads love, would do so much more good for the planet that spreads hate. Let’s do that together brother!
Love always,
Laura
The most important time to love your enemy? Is when that hateful person is you. When you are unkind, and mean, and nasty. When you find yourself gocking at someones terrible outfit, or judging the fat lady with her cheeseburger. When you spread hate, you are only hurting yourself. No Laura, she’s not stupid, she just hurt your feelings. You are hurt.
BUT I DON’T GET THE SATISFACTION OF TELLING THEM TO FUCK RIGHT OFF?!?!?!
Bo- you don’t. It’s a take one for the team kinda thing; but honey only the champions of the earth have taken one for you. Ghandi, Martin Luther King, Matthew Shepherd, JESUS? Who hasn’t taken one for you? So no, right this moment you don’t get the gratification of telling them their wife is ugly, or hurting them momentarily. But the next time, some asshole wants to call someone a “faggot” and you had apologized for them being so hurt and asked them to go get a cup of coffee so you can get to know each other better. Maybe he won’t! The next time a woman looks at you with disgust because you have tattoos, and scoffs in line, if you make sure to smile warmly and pay her parking on the way out of the lot, maybe next time she wants to be nasty she won’t.
Is this a stupid idea? Yea, probably. But it would literally change the world..
I love you friends! And enemies J
Monday, 12 August 2013
Internet Alter Ego's
God, I wonder what happens now with the human race that we
all have Internet alter egos. These bastard alter egos are all of a sudden
opinionated, and judgemental, and abusive to strangers. These alter egos that
live tapping keyboards that didn’t exist 10 years ago. Our kids are now going to grow up with two personalities,
when you and I just got introduced to ours recently. Their alter egos will have developed alongside
them because they always knew a keyboard, text message half-self that would
courageously type away a controversial thought or judgement or joke, one which
their regular self would never dare say.
We are just now being introduced to this person who just
used to whisper in the back of our minds, never dare making a public appearance
(except for the possible late night after 2 too many wines nights.
Who are these people? Do you like yours? I really like some peoples; it makes them
funnier, and more outgoing. Some IAE’s
bring out peoples caring side, their “Hey, I CARE” personality. My IAE?
It’s me after too many wines. I
am in person, and otherwise, offensive,
loud, opinionated, and judgemental, but I am honest. Fully honest. I think my IAE is even more
honest than I am, but she can’t type fast enough to explain herself. She doesn’t understand that typing has no intonation,
it has no sarcastic tone, my IAE doesn’t get there is no tone at all, so her
sarcasm gets taken as “huge bitch.” When she was really just trying to be
funny.
But then enter the ASSHOLES!
Those who’s IAE’s are real dicks. Judgemental, and nasty to a painful
state. These people known for being meek
and mild, all of a sudden come out of the woodwork with Satan’s spew released
through their IAE’s. Their IAE’s are
dick heads! They are racist, sexist, homophobic, arrogant
pricks, and it just flows on out! They are arrogant, and feast on the
confrontation. They confront everyone with Thor’s Staph, dominating with their
self-diagnosed genius. Everyone is an idiot, but them…to them.
Then, comes those who’s
Internet Alter Ego is one that responds to these people with rioting
vengeance. They throw down with no holds
barred, throw down and stand up for the injustices’ of the world, but only
behind a screen. People honestly
believing they are saving the environment by posting Memes about how to do so,
all the while driving SUV’s to jobs as
office employee’s. The same people who wouldn’t stand up for anyone outside of
the comfort of their living rooms.
We all know what internet alter ego’s really are
though. They are just us amplified. The
reality, I believe however, is every one of those alter ego personalities live
within each of us. It’s just who’s
honest enough to admit it.
We are ALL judgmental dick heads in our heads. We all are
mean, and nasty, caring, kind, funny and sweet.
We all laugh at the stupid cat video, and we all secretly think our
friends are idiots. We all roll our eyes, tell the bully to F off, stand up for
the little guy. We all keep someone on
our Facebook friends list just because their life is an entertaining train wreck.
We all secretly love that we only have to communicate with family by way of
typing, as calling half of them would make you want to jab yourself in the eye
with a fork. We all drive cars, and
don’t recycle everything possible, while still posting Facebook Memes about how
to save the environment.
The reality is our Internet
Alter Egos, are all exactly the same.
They are us, after a few glasses of wine too many. They are the voices that used to whisper, and
now type. It’s still quiet as it spreads
on the paper, it just seems to get louder as others read and respond….with
their internet alter egos.
Sunday, 14 July 2013
I called her at 2pm. I always called at 2pm. It's what I did. The only thing strange is she didn't answer this time.
I walked up to her work front door, and saw the ambulance "That's lame, hope everyone is OK." All I could think of was what her reaction to my new clothes would be. I owed my mother money. I ALWAYS owed her money, because I was a stupid high school kid with more wants than funds as most kids. I bought new clothes today and would inevitably get yelled at for shopping instead of paying her back. Right on. Fair enough. It was a cute shirt though.
I walked in and there was the police officer and paramedic. "Your mother is very very sick, you need to go to the hospital."
Huh.
Why would they say that? Why is her boyfriend here? He sat on the couch looking bewildered. I guess he found her dead. He didn't tell me that until later.
I was 18 years old.
I sat down on the floor and called my boyfriend and best friend to come meet me at the hospital. I called my brother to come too. When I got there I was met by a priest. Why did I still think there was no way this was happening? Maybe a priest meets all the patients families? My best friend knew that wasn't the case because when the priest came out to meet them they took off immediately. I guess other people know when bad things are near.
"Your mother passed away." I hit the wall with my forearm. It was a bit surreal and like a movie. Like I was some lost little girl who lost her mother. Problem was I was some lost little girl who lost her mother,
My friend lost his father last week, and his wife lost her mom last year. The shocking similarity was that the second I saw them both in their grief, in their 30's. They both looked as little children. Both successful doctors, with careers, and adult lives, when losing their parents looked as children.
To think, I was just a child.
It was a nice day I remember and walked outside the ER. I dropped to my knees and the only thought was hoping no one would see me. I was so hurt that I thought I would die there, but didn't want my reaction to effect others. I am hurt, please don't you hurt too. I need to fall, I need to let out the pressure on my chest and in my heart, but please don't look.
Her boyfriend finally showed up and sat next to me in silence on a sidewalk curb. I called her sister who yelled at me when I told her she was dead. I just handed the phone to him. Fuck you. I'm the kid. You suck.
Then Aaron came. He pulled into the parking lot and I lost my soul to go somewhere safe. Like my soul was too scared to face him so she left and the shell of me went to him. This shell of Laura that was like a coat of armour. "She's dead." I grabbed him and he took off toward the street. Later to find out he was going into traffic but stopped at the last minute. My soul summoned some courage as the team of family counsellors congregated in the ER doorway to try to help. We looked at them with a fear and hatred in our eyes, like they were at fault for her death. They stay there waiting for us, and we knew we had to leave. We silently looked at each other, got in the car and left. That was the moment we knew we were forever alone. Forever together, and forever different.
I walked up to her work front door, and saw the ambulance "That's lame, hope everyone is OK." All I could think of was what her reaction to my new clothes would be. I owed my mother money. I ALWAYS owed her money, because I was a stupid high school kid with more wants than funds as most kids. I bought new clothes today and would inevitably get yelled at for shopping instead of paying her back. Right on. Fair enough. It was a cute shirt though.
I walked in and there was the police officer and paramedic. "Your mother is very very sick, you need to go to the hospital."
Huh.
Why would they say that? Why is her boyfriend here? He sat on the couch looking bewildered. I guess he found her dead. He didn't tell me that until later.
I was 18 years old.
I sat down on the floor and called my boyfriend and best friend to come meet me at the hospital. I called my brother to come too. When I got there I was met by a priest. Why did I still think there was no way this was happening? Maybe a priest meets all the patients families? My best friend knew that wasn't the case because when the priest came out to meet them they took off immediately. I guess other people know when bad things are near.
"Your mother passed away." I hit the wall with my forearm. It was a bit surreal and like a movie. Like I was some lost little girl who lost her mother. Problem was I was some lost little girl who lost her mother,
My friend lost his father last week, and his wife lost her mom last year. The shocking similarity was that the second I saw them both in their grief, in their 30's. They both looked as little children. Both successful doctors, with careers, and adult lives, when losing their parents looked as children.
To think, I was just a child.
It was a nice day I remember and walked outside the ER. I dropped to my knees and the only thought was hoping no one would see me. I was so hurt that I thought I would die there, but didn't want my reaction to effect others. I am hurt, please don't you hurt too. I need to fall, I need to let out the pressure on my chest and in my heart, but please don't look.
Her boyfriend finally showed up and sat next to me in silence on a sidewalk curb. I called her sister who yelled at me when I told her she was dead. I just handed the phone to him. Fuck you. I'm the kid. You suck.
Then Aaron came. He pulled into the parking lot and I lost my soul to go somewhere safe. Like my soul was too scared to face him so she left and the shell of me went to him. This shell of Laura that was like a coat of armour. "She's dead." I grabbed him and he took off toward the street. Later to find out he was going into traffic but stopped at the last minute. My soul summoned some courage as the team of family counsellors congregated in the ER doorway to try to help. We looked at them with a fear and hatred in our eyes, like they were at fault for her death. They stay there waiting for us, and we knew we had to leave. We silently looked at each other, got in the car and left. That was the moment we knew we were forever alone. Forever together, and forever different.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)