The Future

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I’ve been thinking a lot the last few days. About the future. About what I want to do with myself. What I want to do for my kids. How I want them to see me. How I want to see them. And for some reason, every time I think about it, I’m always drawn back to the same thing.

I signed up for my classes for this coming fall. Cultural Anthropology, Spanish I, Introductory Biology, French I and Interpersonal Communication.

I’ve decided that I’m going to get all A’s this coming semester and make dean’s list. I’ve done it before, I can do it again. I’ve made up my mind and I’m set to do it. That’s all there is to it. I’m going to get all A’s and I will make it work because that is what I want.

I want my kids to be able to be proud of me. I don’t want them to be embarrassed because mom or dad work somewhere like fast food place, a grocery store, or a gas station. I want them to be proud of me when they say, “Yeah, my mom has a degree in _________ and she does ________ for a living.” I want them to feel like I’m not a failure. I don’t want them to look at me as an example of what NOT to do in their own lives (unless you’re talking my teenage years).

I don’t want to have to not get things on my grocery list just because I don’t have enough grocery money for them. I want to be able to plan a meal and be able to buy ALL the ingredients I need for it at once. I know I’ll probably still coupon clip and buy off brands when that day comes, but I don’t want to feel like I can’t get it because I simply don’t have enough.

I don’t want my kids to ever have to go without. I want them to have everything they need and more. I want to leave them with something other than massive debt and heaps of junk when I die.

I don’t want THIS life… I don’t want to live in low-class, low-middle class forever. I don’t want to be like so many people I know… Working multiple jobs. Living in a crap home. Or even worse, a crap apartment. Filing bankruptcy. Having to take out theo government subsidized home loans just to have a place of your own… Even though it’s not really your own with that… I don’t want to be like that and I don’t want to be like them…

So I’m doing what I can to give myself, and my family, a better life.

I just hope I can do it.

Babywearing & Baby Carriers

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As some of you may know, I love babywearing, but it wasn’t always that way. I was first introduced to babywearing when I had my daughter in 2007, however, due to my lack of experience, and perhaps my lack of guidance, I hated doing it. I really think it was due to not having a good, comfortable baby carrier. The only carriers I had used with my daughter were a pouch, which worked GREAT until she hit about 15 pounds, and then in killed my back… And then one of those front-pack crotch-dangler carrier, which was a pain to set up, and was even more painful to wear. My daughter wasn’t heavy, weighing in at only 17 pounds on her first birthday, but wearing her in the carriers that I had at the time just killed my back, and due to a lack of knowledge about babywearing, I gave up on it. I didn’t really think about babywearing again until I had my son. I knew I planned on using a pouch sling until he was too big, just because I really enjoyed it. But then he started hurting my back, just like my daughter had. My main challenge was going grocery shopping. It was nearly impossible for me to do. I’d sit my daughter in the cart’s seat, and then put my son in his carseat in the basket of the cart, or I’d have to carry him and manage to push the cart at the same time. If I carried him, then I had to steer the cart one-handed, which made it difficult and frustrating to shop. If I put him in the cart in his carseat, then I barely had any room for groceries and couldn’t get much of anything at once. That’s when I decided I needed to do something. I couldn’t handle any more of these horrible shopping trips. I researched into a few different baby carriers, but unfortunately, the carriers I liked, I couldn’t afford. And the carriers I could afford, I didn’t like. One of my friends I met online, Bri, offered to mail me a carrier that she loved, but just didn’t like the pattern on the fabric. I figured it was worth a shot, and was very excited to try it when she sent it. It worked pretty well, and it didn’t hurt my back nearly as much as the crotch-danglers did. For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about when I say “crotch-dangler,” here’s a photo depiction… Crotch Dangler Anyways, I really liked the carrier Bri sent me, but I felt there were some things that could be better. I asked my grandma if she would be willing to help me make one if I figured out a pattern. She didn’t seem like she wanted to, but that was probably because everything I ever tried to sew in the apst turned out horribly. But, she said if I came up with a pattern, she’ll help me… Although she didn’t sound like she had much faith in me. I spent nearly two weeks inspecting and disassembling the carrier in my mind. I drew it out. I re-drew it. I made a million sketches, and peiced it together, peice by peice in my mind. I looked at patterns of similarly structured carriers to figure out the assembly. When I figured out how it was assembled, I set to drawing it out. I got some brown paper on a roll, like the stuff you use for mailing packages, and I drew it out. I figured out my dimensions, my shapes, my seam allowances. And I spent a few days, just drawing, tracing, measuring and remeasuring. I can honestly say, that is the ONLY time I have ever used the skills I learned in my geometry classes in high school. My first carrier didn’t turn out bad. It turned out decently, but I didn’t like the dimensions, and I didn’t like the shape. It worked, but it could have worked much better than it did. Buckle-Tai Baby Carrier Like I said, it didn’t turn out bad, but it wasn’t going to work very well for a larger baby. So, I made several adjustments to my pattern, and tried again. I got it perfect on the second try, and my carriers looked like this; Buckle Tai Baby Carriers And, the best part of all, when I tested them out, they were comfortable! I was able to wear my son, as well as my daughter, snugly, comfortably, cozily, and safely! Buckle Tai Baby Carriers I pretty much fell in love with my carrier. I felt kind of sad in one way, wishing I would have figured this out when my daughter was still small because I think she would have benefited from being worn, but I was happy I found something that worked for me. I also couldn’t help but be proud that my design turned out so well! Sewing wasn’t exactly my best talent before, but my carriers turned out amazingly well, and even my grandma was impressed with them. Buckle Tai Baby Carrier My mom especially liked the carriers. She even commented that she wished she had one when she had her kids! And my little sister’s friends even liked them! Buckle Tai Baby Carrier Babywearing can be an incredibly rewarding experience, but like a lot of things, if you aren’t well educated and you don’t have the right carrier to suit your needs, then babywearing can be a complete nightmare, not to mention, pain in the back! I hated wearing my daughter once she was too big for my pouch, but my son is 21+ pounds now, and I’m still wearing him when we go out! Occasionally, I wear my daughter too, when she asks, which generally isn’t unless she’s tired, feeling jealous of her brother, or hurt/sick. Most people know that babywearing is great for bonding, but did you know there’s a ton of other benefits too? * Babywearing is convienant. Like I demonstrated with my grocery shopping dilemma, babywearing can make life easier! It’s also much easier to wear your baby than it is to lug a carseat around, or pack and unpack a stroller all the time. * Babies who are worn are happier, and less stressed. Babies who are worn by their mothers and caregivers, according to several studies, are happier, and cry less, which leads to lower stress levels in not only the baby, but in the mother and caregivers as well. * Wearing baby helps promote their physical development. Babies who are worn are more in tune with their mother’s breathing, movement, stretching and other body functions. This helps the baby to regulate and develop their own movements and functions. * Wearing your toddler can help ease their anxiety. Toddlers and older babies can become overstimulated and this can be very frightening for them. By offering to wearing your older baby or toddler in these situations, you can help ease their anxieties and quell their fears, providing security and comfort to them in uncertain or frightening situations. * Babywearing is great exercise! If you’re a new mom, it can be hard to work in time to exercise and get back into shape. Wearing your baby is great exercise, and is great for gradual strengthening because as your baby gets bigger, you get gradually stronger from supporting their gradually increasing weight. * Baby carriers can help other caregivers and family members bond with baby. Mother’s tend to be very close to their babies, but using a baby carrier can help other family members, such as dads, grandparents, aunts, uncles, older siblings and other caregivers feel close to baby as well. * Babywearing aids in communicating with baby. When you wear your baby, you’re in a very close proximity to your baby’s face, and become more in tune with their gestures and facial expressions making communication with baby easier. * Wearing your baby keeps your baby safe. In a crowded public place, or unfamiliar setting, wearing your baby ensures they are close to you, and with you at all times. There’s no way for them to wander off if you look away for a second! * Wearing your baby is economical. Baby carriers, although upon first glance may seem expensive, but paying $20-$80 for a product you may use daily for two or more years isn’t bad at all! Especially when you consider, if you plan on having more children, you can save it to use for them as well! * Wearing your baby is FUN! It’s much more fun to wear your baby than it is to lug aroung heavy, awkward carseats, or try to navigate a bulky stroller through an unforgiving terrain! Babywearing is fun! There’s so many benefits! It’s my sincere wish that more mothers wear their babies, and its really up to us to help encourage other moms to wear their babies! Babywearing can be intimidating, and may even seem imposisble, like it did for me when my daughter was a newborn, but with a little education, time, and patience, babywearing can be an incredibly pleasurable and rewarding experience! Stay tuned and be on the lookout, as I plan on reviewing some baby carriers on my blog over the next couple of months. We’ve got a couple reviews lined up, and even a giveaway coming up soon! So here’s my prompt for you. Leave a comment and let me know what you think. How do you feel about babywearing, and have you always felt that way? Was your introduction to the world of babywearing an easy one, or did you struggle like I did? How has babywearing affected your life? What does it mean to you?

The Terror of Pregnancy

Filed Under Contemplative, Danny, Health, Jacey, Love, Maddi | 2 Comments

When I was in Anchorage with Bre several months back, getting Maddi’s social security number, I picked up a couple pregnancy journals. The first one, I did it for Maddi all about my pregnancy with her. Ironically, I worked on most of hers during my pregnancy with Danny. Today, I started working on Danny’s.

It’s kind of funny how I found out I was pregnant. Bre and I had been living in an apartment together in Kenai. It was this really trippy, bomb-shelter, underground apartment. Tiny, studio apartment.

I had some pregnancy tests leftover from when I lost Jacey. And I don’t even know why we decided to take them, but we did. Probably because they had the droppers to put the pee on the test so it was kind of like a science experiment. I remember Bre saying something like to that effect.

We took the tests and left them in the bathroom. I don’t really remember what we did after that, but we got distracted. We ended up going on a walk down to paradisos and getting chicken wings, and later that evening, Bre went in the bathroom and next thing I know she calls out to the living room, “Umm… Sam? You know you’re pregnant, right?” I went in there and sure enough, my test was positive. I asked her “You sure that ones not yours?” and she just laughed at me and said “I’m sure.”

I don’t remember what went through my head. Shock? Maybe it was because I didn’t really think I was pregnant. I had logical reasons to suspect, but after what happened with Jacey, I was for sure there was something horribly wrong with me and that every little sign and symptom was just my imagination working overtime. After all, you can’t get pregnant so soon after losing a baby… can you?

I was filling out the journal, and the prompt was “When I found out I was pregnant, my first feeling was:” and I just stopped for a moment.

My first thought wasn’t even a thought. It was a swirling cloud of eighty thoughts hitting me all at once. I couldn’t even logically separate the thoughts or isolate them and figure out what I was feeling. All I was feeling was the emotion and feelings behind the thoughts. I couldn’t put words to them. I couldn’t say happy, sad, scared, excited. I was just feeling the intensity of it all instantaneously and simultaneously. It was all very confusing, and very frightening.

I feel guilty for that. Shouldn’t a mother-to-be’s first thoughts be something more special, or hell, even slightly less plural and a great deal less contradicting of each other? I felt guilty knowing that my first thought wasn’t something the typical response from elated new mothers. I felt guilty for not jumping for glee and exclaiming for everyone to hear “Oh my gosh! I’m going to be a mommy!”

I felt guilty because if I had to pick, my first thought was:

“What if this baby dies too?”

I never really thought of it like this. Not until today. Not until I started filling out my pregnancy book for Danny. I never made the connection before. Maybe it was because I didn’t want to, or maybe I just avoid thinking about it and so the obvious didn’t jump out at me like it could have? It’s hard to see something if you spend your life pretending its not there. The allegory of the cave.

When I filled out Maddi’s book, my answers were pretty simplistic. Happy, excited, typical expectant mother dribble. The only thing less than “a baby story” typical in Maddi’s book was that she wasn’t planned. But everything else was.

“We were so happy!” “I couldn’t wait to find out if you were a girl or a boy.” “Daddy and I wondered what you’d look like.” “I gained a lot of weight.” “Everyone was so happy.” “I fell in love with you when I saw you at the first ultrasound.” “I couldn’t wait to meet you face to face.”

As I continued filling out sections of Danny’s book, I kept seeing how vastly different my entries for him were compared to my entries in Maddi’s book. Maddi’s book was full of what I call, “sunshine and rainbow” statements. And with Danny’s… I may not have wrote them, but I realized that every positive feeling I had about the pregnancy, was shrouded in fear.

I wasn’t picking out names. I wasn’t ooh-ing and ahh-ing over all of the cute baby clothes. I wasn’t having planning special ways to share the joyous news. I wasn’t excitedly awaiting my first doctor’s appointment so I could catch my first precious glimpse of my baby on the ultrasound.

I was wondering if my baby would even get a legal name. I was wondering if I’d ever get a chance to put my baby in clothes. I was wondering how long I needed to hide my pregnancy until it was “safe” so I wouldn’t have to endure the heart-wrenching pain of explaining that my child died everytime someone unsuspectingly asked how the pregnancy was going. I was terrified of my first ultrasound because I was afraid they would tell my my baby was dead.

Everything I did terrified me. For even the simplest actions I took, I would rationalize and debate every possible consequence or reprecussion there could be. Making even the simplest decision was enough to throw me into tears because no matter what choice I made with anything, I was, in my mind, convinced that something horrible would happen. And no matter how healthily I lived, somehow, somethng would go wrong, and the end result would be the same.

I would have another dead baby.

It didn’t matter to me that I had Maddi, not for argument’s sake. The fact I had a healthy child and pregnancy in the past meant nothing. It wasn’t credible evidence in my arguments with myself. It was a fluke. Somehow something happened and I got lucky with her, but never again. The mindset I was in, was that I had only a one in a trillion chance of having a healthy baby. I hit it once with Maddi, and there was no way I could beat those odds a second time. I was doomed.

Only now, after filling out some of the sections of that book, do I realize how much I took for granted when I was pregnant with Maddi. I was “depressed” that they couldn’t tell me if she was a girl or boy at only 12 weeks. I was pouting about looking pudgy instead of pregnant. I don’t think that the thought that anythng could possibly go wrong with my baby or pregnancy even crossed my mind. The potential for something terrible happening wasn’t even on my radar. How naive and stupid I must have sounded. How naive and stupid I was. If only I had been aware of the terror pregnancy can truly bring.

Even now, I worry. I’m not pregnant, nor do I intend to become so for a while, but whenever I even entertain the thought of having another baby in the future, or daydream about it, I’m filled with fear. I want more children, more than anything in the world, but even if Dan were to tell me tonight, “Let’s try for another baby.” I don’t think I could. Even with as much as I bug him and whine and pout to him about how I want another baby… I don’t think I could go through with it. I’m so terrified of something going wrong, something happening to my baby, that I don’t know if I could put myself through that again, and if we hadn’t gotten pregnant with Danny immediately after I lost Jacey, I can’t say that I would have tried to have another baby. It’s one thing for me to say I want another baby, and to genuinely want another, which I do, but it’s completely different to jump from talking and wanting, to actually doing. I really want more babies, more than anything in the world… But I’m terrified. Even just thinking about it now. It terrifies me. To the point I just want to cry. I’m so scared of it happening again and I don’t know if I could handle it. I really don’t.

Thinking too much…

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First, I updated my “About Me” page.

I don’t know whats up with me lately. I just feel like crap.

I’m trying to keep positive, but it’s really hard. I feel like no matter what I do, I’ll be stuck in this hole forever, and it’s never going to get any better. I feel like everything I’m doing is just a waste of time because none of it makes a difference anyways. So why should I bother?

I was doing so great with my small goals… But they didn’t really make a difference I guess. It’s depressing.

I guess I’ve been thinking too much lately. I wish I could just stop thinking. But you can’t just shut your brain off… Unless you go into a coma, but even then, you can still think sometimes.

I just find myself thinking about my weight a lot. My body. Jacey. How much I miss her and wish I could have met her. And how I would have given my own life if it meant she would have been okay.

That’s all, I guess.

Waiting to Try… But pouting while I wait.

Filed Under Contemplative, Danny, Family, Health, School, house, money | 2 Comments

I really want to have another baby. I don’t know why, but for the last two months or so, I’ve just had this BURNING baby fever. It sucks.

I know I can’t have another baby right now. The first reason, is because my little guy is only seven months old and he was born via a cesarean, so obviously, I need to wait and allow my body to heal more, that way I can attempt another VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean).

The second reason, is money. We’re kind of broke right now, and debt is pretty consuming at this point. It’s not very easy to deal with and it just kind of sucks all around, you know? We need to get out of debt.

Third… I need to get my associate’s degree finished. And get better grades next semester. I did pretty crappy this last semester, which sucks… But what else can I do, you know? Between all the medical problems I had last semester (my son was hospitalized with RSV, I got the swine flu and I had my appendix out) I just didn’t do so hot.

Fourth… Space. We don’t have ROOM for another baby. We live in a one bedroom house. It’ll have two bedrooms soon… but the second bedroom is INCREDIBLY small, and long. So… We need more space before we can actually think of having more kids… Especially since we have a boy and a girl… They can’t share a room forever!

Fifth… I’m still working on certifying as a birth doula… I need to finish that training! So, it’s kind of important that I get it all done so I can start making a little money.

So, I’m coming up with goals for everything.

1. Time:
Danny needs to be 12 months before I even consider trying for another baby, and only if other goals are met!
2. Grades:
My last completed semester of school needs to have grades of all C’s and above. Hopefully chancellor’s list… But at the very least, C’s and above.
3. Money:
I need to have at least $5,000 saved up.
4. Training:
I need to finish my birth doula certification and start making money. I can’t make money to save if I don’t finish the training!

I think, if I can meet these goals then everything will go alright and we’ll be ready to try.

It sounds silly, but just typing all of this out really helped me feel better about my decision to try. And it also made it feel not quite as far away in the future as it had before I wrote it out! At least now, I have some concrete goals and a written plan that will determine when I have the go-ahead to try!

What being a teenage mother has taught me.

Filed Under Breastfeeding, Contemplative, Danny, Family, Health, Love, Maddi, pregnancy | 6 Comments

What amazes me, is how often I see girls, only fifteen, sixteen or seventeen years old who want to have babies. I’m not talking want, in a one-day-in-the-future-tense, but want as in now, and soon. And just as often, I see girls the same age, who are already pregnant and they may think they know enough about babies through babysitting, or helping with siblings, but really, they have no idea what its like.

Everyone says that pregnancy is the easy part, having the baby is the tough part, but it’s not. Pregnancy is just as difficult. I see pregnant girls, even ones in their 20′s and 30′s, slamming red bull like it’s water, and eating tuna and deli meat like it’s going out of style! Not to mention poping ibuprofin everytime they get an ache or pain. All of which can be detrimental towards the baby’s health.

These girls don’t know that having an epidural can affect your baby’s ability to breathe, or even to breastfeed after birth. They don’t know that having an epidural increases your chance of a cesarean section. They don’t know that getting induced nearly doubles your chances of a cesarean section. They think that its “safe” for the baby to be born at 37 weeks, and by golly, they want that baby out ASAP! They don’t know that even at 37 weeks, that poor little baby could be born with premature lungs and suffer immensely because they didn’t get those last few weeks in utero to help their brain and lung development. They don’t know that, in the majority of cases, it’s best to let the baby decide when it’s ready to meet the world.

I then see these same women and girls, a few months after having had their babies, popping a bottle of formula into the poor baby’s mouth, claiming they “couldn’t” breastfeed. When in reality, only 2% of women cannot physically breastfeed. So, why are almost all of these girls bottlefeeding? My only attempt at a guess is that they were misinformed. Uneducated about the subject. Sure, you see breastfeeding PSA’s on television, and the WIC office tries to encourage breastfeeding, but we need to provide more in depth education on breastfeeding. So many babies end up suffering because of this. Babies were meant to drink human milk! So, why are mothers so surprised when their babies have reactions to formula? I’ve had women look at me shocked when I tell them my son hardly ever spits up. I can count on one hand how many times he’s spit up on me in his six months of life. And it’s no wonder, because breastfed babies spit up less.

I see these girls, who before or during the pregnancy had a boyfriend or fiancee around, but as soon as that baby entered the picture, the father of that child flew the coop. Or even worse, they ditched the girl as soon as she found out she was pregnant. Often times, these same guys refuse to pay child suport, and in most of the cases I’ve seen, don’t even spend time with their child. Let alone, help care for its daily needs. The girl thought she was in love. She thought it was forever, but sadly, in most cases of teenage pregnancy, forever really means “until I get tired of it.”

I got lucky. I really did. And the funny part is, I wasn’t expecting to get lucky. I thought I’d be raising my baby alone. The pregnancy was unintended, as 80% of teenage pregnancies are. I never for a second thought he would actually marry me. After all, 8 out of 10 fathers of teenage girl’s babies DON’T marry them. When he proposed, I was hesitant. And even though we got married, it wasn’t easy. We almost didn’t make it through our first year of marriage. But, he loved our baby and was incredibly devoted to her. Again, something that isn’t very common among the men involved in teenage pregnancies. I graduated high school a few months after she was born. That’s something only 1 in 4 teenage mothers actually do. I’m in college, and by the end of summer, I should have an associate’s degree. That’s something that only 1.5% of teenage mothers accomplish by age 30.  And, like 80% of teenage mothers, I had a second baby within two years of the birth of my first baby. But, unlike 80% of teen mothers, I have never been on welfare.

Hows that for statistics?

I got lucky in a lot of areas. I have a lot more support than most teenage mothers do. My husband works and provides for us, so I don’t have to. I can spend my time with my children instead of paying a daycare to raise them. I might not be a good story to scare girls away from getting pregnant, but even with all of my “lucky” things, it’s still hard. There are days I don’t want to do anything, but I have to.

When I’m sick, and puking, I still have to manage to comfort my kids who, most likely, are sick and puking too.

When I’m tired, and have been operating on only 3 or 4 hours of sleep, I still have to do my homework. And anytime I consider just saying “forget it all.” and taking an F, I get these intense pangs of guilt. What kind of mother am I if I don’t do everything possible to take care of my kids and give them the best? That includes educating myself, so that by the time they’re old enough to remember, they’ll never know we struggled.

When I have money, I can’t spend it on myself. Especially when there’s food to buy, clothes to buy, bills to pay.

I have to watch my diet, and avoid any and all dairy or my son will stay up all night with horrible gas, and I won’t get any sleep at all.

I can’t let the laundry go a day, because we use cloth diapers. If you would have asked me two years ago, I would have never even considered using cloth diapers, but when you’re forking out $250 dollars a month (that you need for food) just on diapers and wipes, it starts to be worth it…Regardless of how gross it is. Not to mention, my son dosen’t get hardly any rashes when we use cloth vs. disposable diapers.

I have to care for my children, even when I’m in pain. I had my apendix out, and the day after I got home from the hospital, I had to forego the pain meds I really needed, in order to take care of my children and make sure they were well cared for.

I had to have two medically necessary cesarean sections. The first one, because it would have killed both of us if I went into labor with her, the second because my son’s heartrate was erratic. Because of that cesarean, my ability to have many more kids in the future, is limited, unless I can successfully have a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) with my next child.

And these are just the physical tolls having children takes on you. The emotional tolls are even greater… but usually only on mothers who care.

It’s hard not being able to give your child everything. When you have your baby, you feel this overwhelming sense of love. Sure, before you have them, you know you love them, you know they’re important, but I don’t think it really hits you until they take their first breath and you realize this perfect little person is completely reliant on you. You are everything to them. It breaks my heart when I know there’s things I can’t give my kids, or things I wish I could.

I may not be perfect, but I do my best. And for now, that’s all that counts.

In Summary

Filed Under Contemplative, Danny, Love, Maddi, School | 4 Comments

Ok. A lot has happened recently, so let’s sum it up.

  • I went to my workshop in Anchorage to be a birth doula. I finished it, had a blast and now have an official title. I am now Samantha Van Vleet LSP.
  • We fixed AJ’s memorial cross on the way back from Anchorage because it had fallen down. We added some more flowers, re-enforced it with nails through the center (instead of just twine) and restacked the rocks. Hopefully next time I can bring som caulking and make the rocks stick together.
  • I’m catching back up with school. Still doing decently.
  • I discovered the starbucks bottled mocha frappuccino recipe (it’s on the blog post before this one.)
  • Maddi is talking a lot more.
  • Danny sits up for a second or two by himself.
  • My computer got some kind of crazy malware on it and it crashed. Thankfully I had enough time to move my files and pictures to my husbands computer and then did a factory restore on my computer.
  • It’s getting colder and I hate it.
  • I ordered the materials to make my cloth diapers and I’m excited for those to arrive.
  • I finished two more baby carriers, and just need to take pictures and list them on the shop.
  • I cut out all the peices for seven more baby carriers. Just need to order the straps.
  • I’m trying to motivate my husband to get our freezer up and running so my grandpa dosen’t set all my frozen breastmilk on the porch to melt when he gets back from Wisconsin. Dan dosen’t seem to get that my grandpa WOULD do that, and then I would NEVER speak to him again.

So that’s what’s going on in a nutshell.

Other than that I’m just really depressed lately. I feel like nothings going right. I feel like a complete failure and I keep feeling really tempted to just drop out and say to hell with it. I can’t do everything. I clean. I cook. I take care of kids. I do my homework. Sewing is my hobby and I didn’t even get to do that at all for almost a month except for two nights ago. Dan seems to think doign a tiny bit of tidying up counts as cleaning, but he leaves all the intensive stuff for me. I fold laundry. Because his idea of folding laundry is sorting it into piles on the couch and leaving them there for Maddi to spread all over the house. He actually emptied out the dishwasher yesterday, but I get the feeling he only did it because I was mad and I told him to do it while I was picking up Maddi.

I just don’t see a point to much of anything anymore because no matter what I do, it’s never enough and no one cares. Dan dosen’t care. He just want HIS time free so he can “relax” all the god damn time. And by relax, I mean play his video games and watch TV. He acts like he never gets to and he’s soooo deprived, but he does it everyday.

I don’t get that. And no one cares if I do or not.

Jacey

Filed Under Contemplative, Health, pregnancy | 2 Comments

I’ve been thinking about my baby a lot.
The one I lost.
Jacey.

Maybe it’s because I didn’t work through it after it happened. I dont know. I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately though.

I wish I could have met her. :(

I feel like I’m crazy…

Filed Under Contemplative, Health | 4 Comments

I feel like I’m going crazy.

One minute I feel fine, the next minute I feel like the world is ending and I just want to curl up in a ball and cry.

I don’t want another baby right now. Physically and financially, we can’t handle it yet… But I keep thinking “When I have another baby I want to…” all of these different things. Names. Designing my own maternity clothes. Making it a surprise and not telling anyone until they figure it out. I keep daydreaming and I don’t know why. I would FREAK if I got pregnant again, but I keep daydreaming about it and it dosen’t make sense to me.

And school. I keep obsessing. I keep thinking if I don’t get all A’s then there’s no point and I may as well drop out. I know it’s not true… logically that’s not true… But I miss even a couple point on an assignment and get it knocked down to a low A, and I’m about on the verge of tears and ready to just quit because I’m not good enough.

And I’m really discouraged about my baby business (carriers, diapers, slings, nursing pads). I really want to do it, but I can’t find anyone who’s wanting to buy any and it’s really upsetting me! Everyone kept telling me how good all my stuff turned out and how great it is, yet I can’t find anyone to buy any? WTF?

And I keep thinking of my father. I don’t know who he is… I’m missing half of myself, and when I start thinking about it… it upsets me, because I don’t know if I’ll ever find them. David Blanchard. And Terry Glenn. I’m going to be spending the rest of my life wondering. I’m never going to find these two other men… All I know is that they were in the military stationed in Alaska sometime in late 87 to early 88. Part of me just wants to tell Ted to not even tell me what the results are if we get a DNA test and if they are negative… Lie to me. I don’t want to know. Sign the papers. Get on my birth certificate and just lie to me.

I feel so useless.

It still hurts…

Filed Under Contemplative, Danny, Family, Love, pregnancy | 2 Comments

Today kind of sucks.

I’m trying not to let it get to me, but today is one year since I lost my baby. It’s really hard to not get upset. I know that I wasn’t that far along… But it still hurts. It makes me really sad and I have a hard time with it.

I’m trying to be positive and think about the things that happened positively… Like that I became even more resolved to fix things with my husband (at the time we were having problems) and I got pregnant with Danny shortly after… And if I hadn’t had the miscarriage, I wouldn’t have had him… I try to think of those things to keep me from being sad…

But it still hurts.

:’(

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