My Mother's Day gift

My Mother's Day gift

Like for many, this year has been one of many trials and tribulations for our family.  This Mother's day I would like to place one of them here.  On virtual paper.  Close enough to let me remember but, far enough to help me forget.

Early in December of last year I was woken up by the sounds of a sick child.  It was flu season.  It was 2:00 a.m. and Zephyr was vomiting and running a fever.  At 5:00 a.m. the vomiting had stopped and she was resting.  The fever was still present but all the other symptoms had subsided.  I thought she was done with the worst of it.

Before, I continue, please know that I still carry relentless guilt and pain in my heart when I float into the memories of this day.  With that being said...

Ray and I are both freelancers.  That means when work calls, we go.  With Ray already gone, I had to decide whether or not to go in for an hour.  My girl was sick but resting and showed no signs of worsening.  I contacted friends to be on call, drove into work, did what the client requested and drove home.  Calling a couple of times to check on her.  I was gone 75 minutes.  When I arrived home, she was still running a low grade fever.  I was going to give her 2-3 hours and then take her in if there was no improvement.

That decision nearly cost my daughter her life.  After about an hour, my assistant and I heard a call from my daughter's room.  A call for mamma that was desperate and frightened.  I ran to her as she was trying to make it down the hall towards the bathroom.  It was then that the call was placed to 911 by my assistant as my daughter collapsed in my arms.  When help arrived she was slightly coherent, barely had a measurable blood pressure and was still alive because her body was pumping adrenaline as a last ditch, life saving effort.

Most of what happens next is a blur to me.  Crisis mode is the term that fits.  Everyone had their role to play.  Life saving for the paramedics, physicians and nurses.  Decision making, reaching Ray on location, support and love from me.  My assistant left to make calls . lock up and provide back up.

blur blur blur.  spin spin spin. small freak out.  blur spin again and again.

It was 4 days before she could maintain her own blood pressure.  Her organs had all taken a hit from the infection.  She was young and strong.  A swimmer and triathlete.  As soon as her body regained control of it's own blood pressure she was out of the woods.  Another few days in the PICU and a stable Zephyr would transfer to her regular hospital for the duration of her stay.

She was regaining strength, laughing and trying silly walking styles as we did laps around the ward.  Her new doctor felt as if she would do better at home.  Such great news.  I was so happy but nervous.  I think moms do that.  We drove to my parents for the holidays and she flourished.  We all had brighter spirits and were welcoming the return to school.

Short lived would be the only way to describe the brighter spirits and return to school.  She was having a difficult time physically and emotionally.  She only did one week of full-ish days followed by a couple of half day and absent two weeks.  Finally, with the help of her school counselor and nurse, Zephyr was placed in "Home/Hospital" in late January.  After a month of paperwork a teacher came to the house 5 hours a week for instruction.  Yes, I said 5 HOURS.

During all of this, Zephyr and I were feeding off of each other and both fell into a severe depression.  I'm the one that is supposed to make it all better for her.  How could I help her if I couldn't help myself?  For weeks this was the story.  Other factors would end up occurring during this time to make life seem unbearable.  All the while, my heart is telling me to take care of my daughter, myself and my husband.

We still struggle today. Zephyr is being treated for PTSD and continues to make progress.  Someday her story of strength and courage will serve her well.  I, on the other hand, still have a long way to go.  Erasing the pictures and memories of the day that almost took my daughter and learning to live with the scars that will be left in their place.

Yesterday, my strong, healthy and beautiful baby girl had her first day at school.  She was was happy and smiling when she came home.

There is nothing more I an ask for on this Mother's day.

learning curve

I'm the same but different.  I feel the same.  Have the same hopes & dreams.  Love with the same intensity.  I'm still very opinionated.  I still enjoy walking the fine line of insanity and inappropriateness.  With all that said, I am different.

Apparently, I am middle aged.

When did that happen?  Who makes that decision?  Whoever they are can go fuck themselves!

My head may have sprouted some grey.  My body is noisy and much larger than I recall.  I notice people look at me strange when I go to a "hip" hangout.

I am not offended just irritated.  I have earned every bottle of hair dye, every uncomfortable ache and every young hipsters stare.

There may be a learning curve but I don't have to study.  I will wing it as I have the rest of my life.  A creative, outspoken yet responsible rebel.  My life is just as it should be.

Roadblocks & Metaphors

Metaphor~met·a·phor~[met-uh-fawr, -fer]~noun

~A figure of speech in which a term or phrase is applied to something to which it is not literally applicable in order to suggest a resemblance.

Many of us use metaphors to describe events in our lives. For me they are ways to "lighten" the emotion behind those events or slices of time that leave wounds. I am candid about my life. I hide very few things. Yet, find myself using metaphors to lighten the tone or mood.

I recently had a "discussion" with a friend that I have never met in person. It was regarding putting yourself "out there". Like several of my friends, she is a writer. She has a brilliant vocabulary, creative genius and wise beyond her years. Our "discussion" started with a poem she had written. It opened a wound in me that was personal. Touching on something I had experienced many years ago. The kind of thing you don't really talk about. It was a moment that I wanted to keep to myself. Not many would understand this slice of time and there it was. Written. It was almost like she was there, watching me as it happened. The rush of emotion was pure, fresh and palatable. Beautifully describing a moment that left a mark on my soul.

After taking in the words, I found many other "slices of time" swirling around in my head. I wrote a brief note to her. I wanted to tell her how much I enjoyed her work. I then took a much need mental health day to the tide pools. As I sat on the shore waiting for the sounds of the waves to take away my stress and general angst, she replied with a personal thank you. Her thank you reminded me of the "roadblocks" we have in our lives.

Metaphors & Roadblocks. After 45 years of life I still deal with them on a daily basis. I have a job that is subjective to others sense of style and taste levels. I still feel like I'm applying for my first job every time I talk to a new client. I'm uncomfortable, talk too much and can barely suppress the nausea. I am aware of where it comes from and do my best not to blame the past for my esteem shortcomings. With that thought process in mind I keep pushing forward. All the while not feeling the confidence to excel to the levels I am capable of. I have to remember, I have fallen short in my eyes, not in the eyes of others.

Whatever is holding you back. Let it go. Show your true self. Be comforted in the knowledge that you have the ability to surpass your own expectations.

I'm finally in!!!

For months I have been trying to get into my blog. Nothing worked. Every combination of emails & passwords. Nothing! Today, BINGO! I'm back. I wrote it down, checked it twice and am back in business.

that next moment

As the summer nears it's end, I have a brief moment to remind myself of what matters. It's not an epiphany or something that has never been thought of. It's nothing that hasn't already been thought of millions of times throughout history.

Whatever the thoughts of you heart drift to or your soul believes in. The things that make you who you are. Our joys and sorrows are the natural order of life. The ebb and flow of the tides that our lives mimic. Those are the things that consume my mind.

For me, it is particularly important to remind myself of these things. I have battled myself since my early teenage years. Some self imposed but, all unstoppable. Sadness that washes over me like night. Creeping into every corner, seeking weakness and crushing my spirit. Difficult for others to understand and impossible to ignore. I have fought the invisible and lose ground as the years go on. It takes it's place in my life. An unwanted visitor that threatens not only my well being but the well being of everyone around me.

Then I see that brief moment. The one that let's me see clearly. Remember what matters. I try to crawl inside that sliver of time but, it is too small. All too often it spits me out and I tumble towards the darkness. Inside I can feel myself scratch and claw but, outside I shut down. I'm hollow. I'm beat. I'm waiting for that next moment.

Closure

When is it time?

After you know all the answers and refuse to believe the truth. Where do you go from there? Do you know in your heart and soul? Is it a matter of fact? When is it time to stop your heart from aching?

Unknowingly, today is that day for me. A simple Doctor appointment. Simple discussion. A not so simple outcome. At least through my eyes.

I have wanted to be a mother since I was in my late teens. With my responsible nature, I quelled this driving desire. Knowing full well the trials and tribulations of single motherhood, I made the decision to wait.

Little did I know that making what seemed a no brainer of a decision would turn out to be a epic one. As I matured, I was plagued with mystery maladies that changed as fast as I did. For years it would seem I was entering the ring with hypochondriacs.

It was after moving to Southern California and marrying my husband that I discovered the belly of the beast. Shortly after our return home from our honeymoon I was diagnosed with Lupus. It was a relief to have an answer to all the strange health problems. That relief was short lived. We were told it may be difficult and/or dangerous to become pregnant. How could it be that something I had waited my whole life for was slowly fading like a ghost. After much research and staying healthy for a year, I was easily able to conceive. It was not the typical joyful pregnancy. We had to be prepared to sacrifice our unborn child's life for that of my own if things took a turn for the worse. Not thoughts you want on your mind during what is supposed to be the most joyful of occasions. Nonetheless, we made it. With much difficulty we have a beautiful daughter.

It has always been in the back of my head that because I am capable of getting pregnant that by some miracle I would have another babe to hold in my arms. Holding on to that thought , even though it is not my reality, has been my key to sanity. The desire to be a mother of a large family never goes away. It creeps in at my darkest moments. Then I look into the eyes of my daughter and realize she needs me. I need her and my husband needs us both.

I am ashamed of my selfishness. I realize how lucky I am. How blessed. I need not be reminded of these things. My heart bursts with love. All the while the thoughts in the back of my mind ... nothing has changed, you are still able to bear children, you are exactly the way you have always been. Holding on to sanity. Living in you daydream. A protective bubble around your reality.

Until today.

I have made a consult appointment to end my daydream. Stumble unwillingly into reality and cease the nonsense that holds me together. Giving life could cause my death. That is my reality. The burden of accidental failure to stop such a situation from occurring is pulling me away from the man I love. One would think that this shouldn't require a thought process or a consult. It does. Maybe more than one thought. Maybe more than one consult.

When is it time for closure?

holding on & letting go

holding on & letting go

a mothers dilemma

a mothers duty

unknowns & fears

joys & sorrows

torn between what your heart wants

and what your head knows

a mothers dilemma

a mothers duty

I want her to stay with me forever.  I know that is the mind of a deranged parent.  I can

still think it without saying it aloud.  She is a piece of me that I cannot be without.

I know that it has gone on for millions of years.  The letting go.  The change from child to woman.  The loss of the bird in the nest.  I am painfully aware of all these things.  Yet with my mind full of knowledge and ready for action, i fall down.  Like a child myself.  My heart overpowers my mind and I lose the ability to see the difference between holding on and letting go.

It's a loss.  In my heart she should still be swaddled and protected.  In my mind, I have the monumental task of preparing her for the person she wants to become.  I don't want it.  Who said I can't keep her with me?  Who said she will move on?  Who?

Like a spoiled child, I close my mouth and hold my breath until the colors of defeat change my face.  Then, with all the strength of my soul I will again rise to the challenge of preparation.  The task at hand.

The letting go.