Freedom Escaping The Cycle Of Verbal Abuse: Happy Birthday To My Oldest

My head is caught in two places today.  I grew up in a domestic violent home that the courts had to get involved with when I was 17 years old.  I had the best mom.  As my teen daughter grows older, I start remembering the court proceeding and the fear of being abused by my father.  My mom helped me to grow my inner resilient being.

Over the past few years, I have anxiety the entire month of March.  My father called me the case for legalizing abortion. My inner critic loves his voice.  Today is Hope’s birthday.  My husband’s  family remembered.  I checked my phone.  No messages!  My family had their birthdays in July and June.  Literally, my aunt says have a good summer.  Translation: I will call you on Labor Day.  I have spoken to them.  The response was, “you expect us to bend over backwards for you?” That message was uttered by several family members.

I had two children who died from rare diseases.  I choose to try.  Today is the day that I met the care team with agenda issues.  It’s been 15 years later.  I could have let it destroyed me.  Their issues were with my brother not me.  Back then, I never heard of gaslighting!  Did you?  I am slowly looking at my inner voice, my inner critic.  The one who whispers it’s March and you will be forgotten again.  I was the invisible escape goat!  I had language disabilities and written language disabilities.  My two daughters could never come home.  Both died from a rare disease.  I had kidney failure.  Their child came home.  I am working on re-parenting myself.  My mom inspired me to do everything with in her ability through the historical time frame of her life.    My brother and sister frequently told me to “shut up!” I am coming to terms that I was abused not only by my dad.  A child with language difficulties needs to be told, “keep talking.”

A group of friends took me to Alateen.  Granted neither of my parents were alcoholics.  I got introduced to the 12 steps.  I can’t thank them enough!  Thank you for rescuing me!

My grief has changed.  I am reading more.  I do not grieve them. I grieve the love of a brother and sister I did not have.  They never saw Joy.  When Hope  (my oldest rainbow, child after lost) was born the day stopped being about her.   Some of the doctors had a past with my brother.  They should have taken it up with him.  He never talked to us.  These people were verbally abusive towards me.   It became a platform about how I didn’t matter!  I need to learn more advocating for myself and my family.  I joined co-dependents anonymous.  I continued my 12 step journey.  Someday, I hope March becomes a happy time for me to look forward to my birthday.  Today if I am feeling I am being treated right.  I go to the person.  If that doesn’t happen, I bump it up.

Today is a celebration of Hope.  Let it not be anything else!  Today is about her!  Happy 15th birthday Hope!  I am keeping it short!  That is my a lot time!  Back to Hope!

The Chaos of Goodbye & Hello

I haven’t had the energy to write.  A great friend with a white heart and big black paws has died shortly after Valentines Day the night of a snow storm.  Just 11 years earlier, I had miscarried and had a D&E a few days before Christmas.  We had our 2 year old daughter Hope.  We took turns faking smiles and crying outside so she couldn’t see how broken we were.  A few days after Christmas, I was crying and clearing the snow off my car.  A heard a faint meow that forever changed my life.  “Where are you kitty?” I asked.  An older kitten came out from under my neighbor’s porch.  It was absolutely freezing out.

It was 2008, the housing market crashed.  People were abandoning their homes and their pets.  I picked up the kitten and showed my husband, who encouraged me to bring him in the house.   It ended up a neighbor lost the apartment and abandon the kitten to the streets We were trying to decide what to do on our infertility journey.  It was the third miscarriage in a row.  I looked back on my old journals.  Everything evolved around finding answers for my infertility caused by recurrent pregnancy loss.  Every now and then, there was a sentence or two about “kitty.”  I was trying to find him a home and find an answer to a mystery.

At some point, I did find “kitty” a home.  The night before he was to leave, two years old Hope was crying, “my kitty.  He’s home.”  We decided “kitty” was staying and I had to tell this person that we changed our minds.  We named him Raven.  Raven was born on one of my due dates by the vet’s estimate at the time.    He was best fur friend.  He had the personality of Tigger from Winnie the Pooh.  One vet said, this isn’t a cat.  This is a muscle.  Raven had Core strength.  One hundred percent muscle cat with a white heart on his chest.  When he walked on you, you knew it.  Just like when Tigger would pounce on Winnie the Pooh.  When I was diagnosis with breast cancer, Raven had to be put in a separate room.  He would walk all over the treatment sites.

In 2014, when I boarded that plane to the West Coast to get pregnant through embryo donation, I told God, “I am not here for any cat.” Strangely enough, I decided to leave early for my plane and have a look around before leaving.  One of the stores did this giant window display of homeless kittens and puppies.  I look at the window and said, “I have plane tickets to Boston, who is joining me tonight?” The shelter didn’t allow out of state adoption.

My friend. My comfort.  He stood through many negative pregnancy tests, miscarriages and breast cancer treatment.  I couldn’t find him one morning.  I found him an hour and half later in a tight corner by a white bureau and the furnace.  I thought he had died.  He was barely still alive.  We rushed him into Boston.  The brain tumor had advanced so much.  No more meds could keep him alive.  We went into Boston for the family to say goodbye.  My three year didn’t know what to do.  She announced to the waiting room with a smile on her face that her cat Raven was going to die tonight.  Joy has no clue about death.  After we saw him, they left the room.  I held him as he died.  Joy started singing ironically, happy birthday in the car.  My oldest was screaming at her.  For days, I couldn’t figure it out why.  Then, I got it.  Avery, my first born, who died was born on the 21st.  Generally, we go out and do something as a family.  Joy must have confused about this whole death/remembrance events within days of each other.

We were suppose to go to the water park to mark the birthday/death of Avery.  The house was a real disaster zone, we brought a new kitchen pantry.  Stuff in the basement was thrown about.  We are looking for Raven in the basement for quite sometime.  He had either another seizure or even a stroke due to the brain tumor.  All I did was sit on the futon and cried.

We had actually been talking about adopting another Maine Coon cat before Raven died.  A few years earlier, our Maine Coon cat had passed away a few weeks after my birthday.  He was very bounded to a female cat who died two weeks before my birthday.  I started looking.  We had stopped due to the remodeling of the house, Joy’s birth, followed by more remodeling and Raven’s seizure.  I stopped because it’s a lot of stress for cats to get use to one another.  Raven’s health was declining.

Valentines day, my husband and I talked.  It’s been a rough few years in our marriage.  I resigned to being legally married to a room mate.  He was touched by the 50th birthday party.  He took me out to get my makeup done.  He brought all this expensive makeup for a chap stick girl.  All along, I am thinking this stuff is expensive, but he wanted too.  I am thinking I just talk our oldest out of this designer make up kit for Christmas.  I made a choice to give our marriage a try.  Maybe I am hanging on too long.  When it comes to rare diseases and marriages, it’s like this.  We have been through a disaster together loosing our two daughters, all the miscarriages and infertility.  It was only our lifeboat that made it.  I am not sure I want to cut off the only person that was there.

Yes, it is a codependent pattern of behavior.  I can’t keep going on like it’s a room mate situation with a legal title.  Is that closeness?  Life is suppose to filled with precious attachments.  I have been living withdrawn for too long.  So, I let a lot of surface friends people go.  Once again my heart and trust is on the line.  I am going to try again to bring the spark back.

This year for rare disease day, we had a pottery shop willing to donate a percentage of proceeds to the National Organization For Rare Diseases.  I posted it everywhere.  I don’t know how well it did.  The night of what would have been Avery’s 15th birthday, we went out and painted pottery.  Our vet did the nicest kindest act.  They sent us flowers for Raven’s death.  It arrived on what would have been Avery’s birthday.  We painted a mug for the vet and filled it with candy.

We spent that week after Raven died looking at animals at shelters.  Good news spraying and neutering is working.  Now, our state is flying in cats from other places.  Avery’s birthday was a good family day with the girls.   I took them out for breakfast and lunch. We dropped off 15 roses to her grave.  I said pink.  Joy said red.  Hope said pink.  We mixed them up.  Unfortunately,  15 is a odd number and the woman behind the counter kind of gave us a hard time because she had to open up different dozens roses to make the count.   The last one, I said just add a white one so neither side won.  Avery got her roses.  We headed off to a mall near a old shelter that I had worked at.  The shelters had a hard time finding a kid friendly, dog friendly and another cat friendly cat.  I started looking on line.  I found a few scams.  They didn’t get money from me.  Amazingly, Microsoft called us all concerned about our computer.  Obliviously, this was another scam.  I thought ironically maybe there is a connection.  I excitable said, “I am so happy you called.  Let me put you on hold.”   I hang up the phone.

I quickly stopped by at a local shelter to pick up an application.  I had one of those what to do parenting moments.  There was this incredible loving cat with dog experience.  The cat went from one lap to another.  We found our girl.  We are verbalizing this is our cat.   Joy ran and cornered the cat.  All of a sudden Joy is bleeding from her face.  I had to tell the oldest not this one.  Both left in tears.

Second attempt at the waterpark, we were in the parking lot.  Both girls agreed to give up the waterpark to go back to the shelter.  We left and it was a mess.  First cats who are dog friendly aren’t dog friendly.  It was almost one and Joy hadn’t had lunch.  As a parent with a child with sensory disorder this is a disaster in the making.  Any small child would be having a melt down.  One is too late and off routine.  It was close to lunch when we went and an hour later we were still there.  The woman insisted Joy stayed.  I don’t keep vaccination records of our animals on me.  The vet was closed.  I was calling a few places open that would have them.  We got one immediately from the boarding place my cat stays.   The dog boarder it is hit or miss.  She is with the dogs.  Sunday is a non doggie daycare day.  I am saying let me take the kid out to lunch.  I will keep trying to call her.  This woman got infuriated with me.  No, the child needs to stay.  I want her to spend more time with the cat to see what the cat does.  I am like no, we aren’t doing that.  I told we would be back.  I am pulling into the driveway to see if I have the dog’s vaccination records.  You need them for the license renewal in the city.  She calls me and abruptly says, “don’t come back.” Now I am angry.

I lied and told we weren’t planning too anyways.  I did get one call back for the number of inquiries from private adoption.  The person stopped answering my texts.  I called it another scam and called it a night.  She texted me the next day.   I spoke with her for a bit.  It seemed legit.  We made plans.  I am picking Hope up from school and I am telling her that I found a kitten.  I went to the ad.  There is the kitten listed at a higher price.  I start freaking out I found another scam.  She told me that it was a misunderstanding between her and her husband.  I made plans.

My oldest Hope has had an increase of vertigo. Right before vacation, I couldn’t take Joy to her last play group because I had to go pick up Hope sick from school due to the vertigo.  I wasn’t going to leave my oldest alone having dizziness.  Joy and I stayed home that day.  Only one neurology appointment left on a work day after school vacation week.  It was that or wait another good month.  I took it.  It was suppose to snow the night I was getting this new kitten.  Hope knew about the kitten.  We didn’t tell Joy incase it was a scam.

I have spent most of my time this week putting life back together after Raven died.  We had the new pantry assembled in the living room.  Out went the old one into yard before another snow storm.  Apollo gets along well with the dog.  The other cat Sweetie is tolerating him.  Something mild is going on with his stomach.  After my mammogram tomorrow, Apollo meets the vet.  Now that is March it seems to be snowing more than ever.

I drove from Boston back home to get Joy from daycare.  Then, we had to drive to the NH border to meet the person.  My husband had to work late.  We hit construction.  Right before a snow storm, they are tearing a bridge apart.  We got there and I was scared a little.  I didn’t know this person.  In her arms was this tiny meowing creature.  The only name we could agree on was Apollo as a family.  The snow started 5 miles of the home exit.  We made it.

The doctor wants Hope to have an MRI.  Tomorrow is my yearly mammogram.  It’s almost been nine years since I was 36 years old and just diagnosis with breast cancer.   It was my first mammogram.  I am anxious.  I have been very itchy.  The doctors did a breast exam. The only thing they found was dry skin.   They recommended an earlier Mammogram.  I wasn’t able to with all the appointments for Raven.    I sat anxious.  Mammogram day have not been a good connection between my husband and I.  This year, I am going by myself on the train.  Joy has gymnastics anyways.

I understand the brain MRI is routine.  I felt anxious because my mother-in-law got confused she had some genetic rare disease disorder brain tumor.  I struggled with it for a long time.  Finally, I had a heart to heart with my husband concerning mammogram day behavior and the heaviness of wondering if Hope is okay.  My mother-in-law’s  personality has changed.  I can’t ask her directly anymore.  He clarified it with her that she doesn’t have a rare disease.

I have been asking for help with my anxiety.  These upcoming days are tough.  Hope has a brain MRI on Sunday.  I have my mammogram tomorrow.  It’s tough, because I know I don’t have a lot of healthy support on these days.  My 45th birthday is coming at the end of the month.  I think I am going to end this with my saying for strength.  My daughter Avery fought so brave in the NICU unit for her life.  A day later it was not meant to be.  We had to choose to stop life support.  I always say Avery Bravery.  I will be glad, when it is Monday next week.  May Hope have Avery Bravery to get through that brain MRI.  May I have Avery Bravery to get through that Mammogram tomorrow.  May all this anxiety be for nothing.  Let Hope’s vertigo disappear in time for comp season.  Avery bravery let nothing bad happen to your sister and your mother during all these routine tests.

Why Isn’t There An Answer For Cancer?

I’m incredibly frustrated right about now. It’s been about a week since Raven, the cat was diagnosed with a non-cancerous brain tumor. Today, he meets the acupuncturist. I am in tears. This time last year, the ferret was dying. Naming the blog Why Isn’t There an Answer for a Meningioma had no ring to it. I never saw this coming until he had a seizure. I have owned many cats. Most died at 14 or 16. Raven is 11. It’s been a string of phone calls to get him somewhere quick! The accident Egyptians died from colds. My oldest is doing an history project on the Black Plague. No answer for brain tumors today. I got that negative thinking just going and going. I am the mother of Hope and Joy. I will try to let this meningioma steak my Hope or the Joy of the time left with Raven! Overview, the cold usually clears up in a week. The Black Plague is now a rare disease! What’s the deal with cancer and brain tumors? 💔

Remembering Mary: A Mentor

For many years, I had this good friend at church named Mary.  When Addison, my daughter died, she reached out to me.  Mary was in her late eighties.  She had died due to cancer.  She suffered from infertility, infant loss, being diagnosis with cancer all her life and witnessing the death of one adult child/grandchild die one after another.

Mary was the head cheer leader when I left for the West Coast seeking embryo donation. The result was my daughter Joy was conceived by embryo donation.   She was quite a pillar of strength.  I made diner for her over the summer.  We spoke so much about loss.  I was at her memorial service.  There was so much more I didn’t know.  She had a daycare in the 70’s.  She took all children in difference of ability.

The church was so packed.  I had to drive around the place several times to find a parking spot.  I am local.  I navigated and found the hidden one!   What was amazing is…  She died the day I was at a holistic fair.  My attention went to a bereavement book.  I gave this book to her surviving husband.  I have difficulty going to church since Joy was diagnosis with hyperactivity and sensory disorder.  I woke up on Veteran’s Day with a you must go to church today attitude.  I did not know before hand.  I lite candles for the girls a celebration of their accomplishments.  I asked for help for Joy.  Next person talked about her death.  I couldn’t breath.  I watched Hope march in a parade.  My heart was broken.  It felt like hours.  My eyes begging to cry.  I was fighting it so hard.

She was also a cancer survivor mentor.  She was only in her twenties, when she was diagnosis cancer.  Back in those days…  It was chemo or radiation…  Mary was a part of a study trying both chemo and radiation.

Her pregnancy loss stories are the bases for why we are not separated from our children.  She lost two or three infants.  I am not sure.  The children was whisk away.  It’s not clear what happened.  Heartbreaking is one child was born healthy.  The child was given penicillin upon birth.  The doctor overlook Mary had a penicillin allergy.  The child died.

Why she is important to me?  It’s going on 15 years, that Avery was born and died.  Today’s CODA reading was being truthful and Santa Claus.  My three years old found Avery’s picture.  I was asked why couldn’t Avery breath.  I said to her.  I promise to tell you when you are older.  I don’t know how to explain #CampomelicDysplasia to my three years old.  How do I explain we have normal SOX 9 genes and Avery and Addison didn’t?  I remember taking building blocks to explain to my oldest Hope what a gene was.  She was five.

Mary had an enormous strength.  Often, I used the affirmation I am a rare beautiful mother.  The death of Avery and Addison effect my sense of worth.  Both children died horrible deaths due to their bell shape lungs.  My lungs are normal.  So isn’t Joy’s and Hope’s.  She has often criticized for not letting them be forgotten.  Mary was not isolated.  She grieved publicly.  For me, it’s about ending my isolation.  I may have every parking lot full like Mary at a ripe old age.  I am afraid that isn’t today.  I need to see it’s okay to grieve and live.

I often joke with my kids.  It’s not Merry Christmas.  My real name is Mary Ellen.  I joke like I am Santa, “Mary Ellen!” It’s Christmas without Mary.  Mary Christmas Mary.  She often told me, “I love you!”  Mary, I love you!  

Thoughts:

The trip went okay.  Our cat has a seizure disorder so medication needs to be given on time.  I had an argument with my husband the night before.  He closed his bedroom door and went to bed.  I just couldn’t sleep.  The trip had awoken several emotions in me.  Between the grief of the death of daughter going on nine years this year and the man who was my biological father, it was an emotional roller coaster.

I had done everything in my power to make sure the cat seizure medication was done on time.  I have experience a lot of lost.

My own mother was hit by car and the police failed to notify me.  I was 13 years old and home alone.  We didn’t have cell phones in the day.  It was 11PM, when finally everyone stopped passing the responsibility around and I was told she was hit by a car.  My mother was never late.  She would never leave me alone.  I walked the streets looking for her.  I had gone to a Halloween Party instead of our usual Friday night ritual of going out to eat and walking over to grocery shop.  She was hit crossing the street.  I freaked out, hit redial by accident and ending up calling a friend’s house.  The mother asked me if I was okay.  I was 13 years old.  I didn’t know what to do so I told her what happened.  She came and got me.  For many years, I blamed myself.  After all if I was there, maybe I could have pushed her out of the way of the car.  She never walked the same.  Over the years, she could barely walk.  She died at 72.

Let’s add the grief of loosing two children due to a rare disease.  I am trying to grasp the concept of the Serenity Prayer.  My inlaws were suppose to just drop off the cat at the kennel and they were suppose to medicate the cat.  I am presuming because the cat was in their kennel not ours that they were an hour late because they drove home to get their kennel.  This is the way communication goes.   Since my mother-in-law was diagnosed with a non-cancerous brain tumor about 10 years ago.  I can’t talk to them directly.   All communication needs to go through my husband.  I freaked out about the cat.  I called at 10AM when we were down the street from the amusement park.  He wasn’t there.  Today we have cell phones, so I got the word that they were almost there.  I was really angry.  I had to push it a side because here was my dream about to come true.  We tend to think these are going to be big moments.  I was rushing in for the bathroom upon entry.  Laughing!

Joy had the best time.  Hope was bored.  At 4PM, Joy had no nap.  She was laying on ground in a line.  We got tickets for next year because 6 of the rides were out.  I almost said did you see my blog about no more trips?  It had it’s touching moments.  I had an ornament made with all the names of the babies that I lost on it.

The next day, we got up and it was raining.  We weren’t going up any mountains like I promised the oldest.  Joy had quite the melt down at the mall.  I came home and I had planned to take my husband to Albany, New York for his 50th birthday this year.   I canceled it. It was a third of the cost of this trip to have the dog and the cat at a kennel.  Literally, no one wanted to pet sit for a seizing cat.  My own vet was telling me that I was going to get charged an extra $50 if the cat gave them any fight for an extra person.  Raven took his meds no fight.  The other kennel loved him.  This cat is just this loveable character like Tiger from Winnie the Pooh.  They were amazed how this blind cat could figure out his surroundings.  All the pets came back in good health.  No issues.  Meanwhile last week, my dog went to the vet for a routine exam.  It took four staff members to hold down the beagle for blood.  Not because he was aggressive.  He wanted to play with them.

I have given it more thought.  I have redecided to go to a more local place for my husband’s birthday that is in a 40 mile radius of the house.  When he turned 40, I surprised him and took him to New Hampshire for a weekend get away.  He is a December baby.  There was a blizzard one way and another blizzard on the way back.  Hope was 3 at the time and we were scared the entire way.  I only had that Saturday off.  We get home in one piece.  The next day, we went to daycare.  It was icy.  I picked up Hope to carry her in because I didn’t want her to fall.  I slipped banged my knee and hurt my lower back.  I was screaming in pain.  Not one soul heard me cry for help.  What stopped me was Hope decided she was going to get me tissue.  I spent Christmas on crutches that year.  It was so icy.  I gave up on them.  Never will I wear these cool dress boots.  The uglier the better boots are!   We are keeping it local, so that way I have control of the cat’s medication.  I think I need a to find a sponsor for this co-dependent issue I have.

It’s not that I hate him.  I find I am angry about a lot of past events.  I struggle with holding this secret that the psychologist had to tell me about him having high functioning autism.  It isn’t I couldn’t love someone with autism, because I could.  I don’t feel he entered the marriage quite telling me everything.  Our emotional divorce has gone on long enough.  I am no angel either.  I know he is a good person.  How many more times does someone need to request marriage therapy?  From my breast cancer survivorship and as a bereaved mother, I am telling you life is too short to be so miserable.  It isn’t enough to have the basics, I want an adult relationship with love both ways.  I am not looking for a supermodel or the perfect rich man just someone who…

I haven’t figured that one yet.  Anyways, it’s going to cost me more money.  It’s what feels right for me to stay local verses 2 and half hours away.  I literally had the biggest anxiety attack when the cat was over an hour late for his seizure medication.  It kind of points me to explore my need to control what I can’t.  Baseline: Serenity Prayer.  I can only control myself.  I need to explore what a healthy relationship is as well.

Rambling on.  The sentence should read I am not looking for a supermodel or the perfect rich me just my soulmate.  Someone I can connect to.  Not someone who is always going to agree with me.  Someone who loves me.

Another Goal Done? The Bucket List After Cancer Treatment

Hope was just 4 years old.  I was in my second trimester with Addison and we went to a local children’s amusement park.  I ran into one of my old co-worker at the time.  This is the type you do not speak to.  After I witnessed my first ever human die, which was my daughter Avery, he decided to bring his newborn twins in on my original due date, while I was at work.  So years later, I didn’t go near him People never understood that I suffered from flash backs of Avery’s death.  The pain of it all… Here it was my brain was trying to heal by repeating processing her moments of death.  All these happy couples with newborns couldn’t get, I couldn’t hold or look at their babies.  It had nothing to do with them, but the fact that I was grieving.

I was very careful not to get on any of the rides at the park since I was pregnant with Addison.  It would be the last time Hope would ever go in her early childhood.  It was Columbus Day weekend and I was hoping for a miracle.

The memory…..  Sweet Addison….  The doctors said it would never happen again.  Her sister Avery died of Campomelic Dysplasia, a rare disease.  A few weeks later, I was heart broken looking at the ultra sound screen.  Addison looked like Avery.  It was October 30th, the day before Halloween.  Our conversation to the hospital that day before learning the news was filled with dreams.  I pointed out a mini van at a used dealership.  I was going to have a dog too.  It was like watching the Titanic go down.  A week before Thanksgiving, Addison had died in utero.  In 10 months, I lost my baby, job, got a job, got diagnosis with breast cancer and buried my mother.

When I was in cancer treatment overlooking the Charles River in Boston, I had a bucket list.  I was a pretty active cancer patient.  We did Girl Scouts. I worked 32 hours per week.  I helped my kindergartener through homework.  I had what I call Charles River dreams of after cancer treatment.  Please pass me my magic wand!  I was going to the happy maternity ward!  When the baby was old enough, we were going back to the amusement park.  It was 2009.  In 2015, my dreams came true.  I had another rainbow.

May I say this affectionately?  My daughter Joy, the second rainbow has attentional issues.  I say this with gratitude for her life.  She appears to have a sensory disorder and she is a thrill seeker.  It’s like having someone on suicide watch 24/7.  If one item is not right, she finds it.    Joy is a bolting hazard.  I suffer from nerve damage on my left arm due to cancer treatment.  She can never be left alone.  It’s a struggle to get her in the shopping cart.  She unbuckles herself and stands up.  I promised the girls this trip to NH.  Again the leash part to back pack harness is missing again.  This time, I brought handcuffs.  Not real ones, They are actually called wrist links for toddlers.  “You are only going if you wear these at all times.” I tell her.  I am getting an understanding Joy is in constant Fight or Flight due to the sensory overload.

This trip has made me consider stopping the overnights.  Today, the dog needed to be dropped off.  We have a cat with seizures now.  Every pet sitter said no.  I only found a kennel.  They open at 9AM.  It’s a three hour drive.  Once again, we have to beg our in-laws, so we can leave at 6AM.  The kennel says come in and fill out a packet.  I already see the Joy scene in my head.   I drove by to drop off the paperwork.  I hand write out the feeding and medication instructions.  They closed until 5PM.  My husband is confirming with my inlaws.  I am timing the seizure medication on the cat.  I get there at 5 to review the paperwork.  The time I pick is not good.  These one night trips are just not worth it anymore.

I am getting my dream to return to the amusement park after a day’s worth of phone calls to find someone.  Our vet wanted to charge us an extra $50 if another tech needed to come in.  The hospital our cat was admitted wanted $212 for medical boarding.  Here I am packing for everyone just saying this isn’t worth it anymore.

I have also been looking at my co-dependency issues more.  I am not as close to my husband anymore.  I was going to try to take him to Albany NY for his birthday.  My village in life is who I pay for.  I had a huge argument with my teen ager about cleaning her room before the grandparents come over.  I am just not enjoying myself on this mini gateways anymore.  A promise is a promise.  I pulled my oldest aside and said this isn’t worth the energy that goes into making these trips happen anymore.  Now, I am on the mercy of people who have canceled before.  My oldest, I am planning to take to a mountain named after her school mascot.  Here I am seeing myself rush around a mountain to get through traffic to get to two animals located 15 miles apart from one another.  I can’t do this anymore.  Disney World is in stone next summer.  I done with this.

I also have a lot of sad memories of NH due to my bio-father.  The man did what he could to tell me that I wasn’t worth it.  Since his death, I have worried if he was buried or not.  Last summer, I woke up and discovered he was buried thanks to the internet an hour away from where we are going.  It’s been an emotional day of should I go and say good bye.  I have thought this over.  It’s not the right time for me.  It’s going to be an emotional roller coaster to just get through the gates of the amusement park.  I have been overwhelmed most of the day today.  It needs to be at a time where I am with someone to console me. I need someone to undo the message that I don’t matter.   If I went this weekend, I would be driving the only car and leaving the family at the hotel.  Not a good combination.  I let that one go.

This weekend, let’s honor the memory of Baby Addison.  She never got a turn.  How much I loved my angels!  Leave unfinish biofather business for another day.  Let the next 12 hours be a moving moment to remember Addison and fun for Joy and Hope!

Embracing Rare As A Inward Beauty:

Out of the billions of people who live in the world, my family was the first documented family of dominantly carrying this horrible rare disease called Campomelic Dysplasia.  As a teen my mom warned me of teen pregnancy, I thought it was a given that if you behaved so to speak that children would just come and live happily ever after.  When I decided it was time for my husband and I to have children, I had a pre-pregnancy glow.  Everything had to be perfect.  After all, a little prince or princess was sure to come.

On November 14th, 2003, I lost my innocence about pregnancy.  Here we were compilating if we should ask if it was a boy or a girl.  The ultra-sound tech was silent almost cold.  I was on top of the world.  My husband and I had not gone on a honey moon after we married.  Five years later, I had the baby I always wanted and we had plane tickets to London, England for a honeymoon the following day.  My world was shattered.  Fate choose us.  The doctor pulled me into the room.  I am still asking well is it a boy or girl.  She told me the ultra sound showed multiple birth defects.  They didn’t think I would go to term.  They didn’t think the baby would survive birth.  A part of me died on the spot, I arose and I was born a mother of child with a rare disease.

We went through all the genetic testing and we went to London England.  In the early morning hours of this devastating news, I made the argument to my husband, “If the baby is to die, let’s show this baby the world!” We went to London.  I fell on my knees at Westminster Abbey to all the great royals and I begged for my child’s life.  Avery was born late February unexpectantly since she was due in April.  She died a day later in the arms of her parents.

Afterwards we talked about the hell it would be if it ever happened again.  We had Hope our oldest in 2005.  She was perfect in every way.  Hope was a name we were going to use for Avery.  The doctors had difficulty figuring out Avery’s gender.  Neither of the names that I choose were the right name for this child.  I picked Avery instead because it was a unisex name.  It wasn’t that popular in 2004.  Both my daughters Hope and Joy have friends named Avery.  I see it as a spirit of Avery finding these girls to add friendships to her sisters’ lives.  One of Hope’s friends has sisters.  One named Avery and the other Addison.

We went on to have try again for another child.  I had repeated late miscarriages.  People had opinions not always the path I choose.  I am remembering my own sister telling me if I miscarried Hope to be glad because after all we wouldn’t want genetically inferior babies.  She told me to embrace my losses because it was Mother Nature’s way of making sure only the genetically pure survived.  My mother FYI repeatedly stood up for me.  She warned us against such statements.  My brother told me that I shouldn’t cry because I was told by the doctors.

I lost many jobs, friends and social statuses due to my convictions.  Avery was my child.  This was my tragedy.  None of my losses are to be used to address social issues.  It was up to my husband and I to decide as her parents the best course of action.  After so many losses, people get inpatient.  COME ON JUST BE GRATEFUL FOR HOPE!  GO ADOPT!

Often in life, we have our own choices.  As a society, we need to work on accepting others have choices.  It is their choice.

I went to work full time.  I could not find childcare for my daughter Hope so I could presued infertility treatment.  The genetics once again chopped my losses into statistics.  It look like just pure bad luck.  Our health insurance would not pay for the medications. We live in a mandatory state for infertility insurance the procedure was covered.  However it was a bad economy at the time and the insurance policy for pharmacy meds was not in state with laws about fertility coverage.  There was the legal loop hole.  I switched jobs and we saved.  We finally had the $5000 for the medication for one cycle.  I didn’t get pregnant and my RE looked at my meds and told me there was not enough meds for another cycle.  My husband’s sperm count got better.  We were told to keep trying on our own.

In July of 2009, just a few days after our 10th wedding anniversary, the pregnancy test was positive.  Sadly October 30th, we broke medical history.  The one event which could never happen again did.  Our child Addison had the same rare disease and she was expected to die.  Addison’s nick name was Momma’s Birthday Gift.  She was due a few days before my own birthday.  A week before Thanksgiving, I was induced.  She had no heart beat.  I held her cold body that day. Here I was vaginal giving birth, when all I knew was a C-section.  Six months later the blood on my bra was a breast cancer tumor.  A week after chemo, we learned our family had broken medical history and there was a dominant carrier.

It was not an easy switch to go from active in fertility treatment to cancer treatment.  I was scared out of mind.  In the early days of my cancer treatment, I thought it was a sign from God that I should die with my daughter Addison.  In those irrational days, I felt like a failure as a human being.  Then through divine intervention, I had a great dream.  I was at Plymouth planation having a picnic with all my babies (including those I lost.)  The sky was blue and I felt so peaceful.  Then the nightmare began.  A knight out of no where began to attack only me.  I ran into a cave.  This knight had no mercy.  When I was defensiveless and fearing my own death, the knight reveal it was my paternal grandmother.  She grabbed me by the chest, “You don’t really want to die.” She threw me the sword.  It’s laughable because I am not athletic at all.  I grabbed the sword.  I was ready to fight.   She called me by my real name, “Get in there Maryellen and fight!  It will kill you!  Let me care for the babies.” Just like that I grabbed the sword and I was ready.  It was a horrible noise coming for me.  I can’t describe it in words.  I knew I was surrounded.  I was convinced I could win.

I survived with a kindergartener, working full time and breast cancer treatment.  My mother died half way through chemo.  In 10 months, my baby was dead.  Beloved pets died. I had to switch jobs fearing the loss of another job and my mother died.  I was in cancer treatment with conviction, “someday, I am going to the happy maternity ward.” I carried this bib that said my mother is a breast cancer survivor to keep me inspired.

I have been reaching to other bereaved parents.  I am not going to lie.  After cancer treatment, the pain of the losses taunted me.  I had my convictions.  There is another child and I was going to find her or him.  I stopped talking to others.  I became the queen of small talk.  When I was allowed into infertility treatment again, I shallowed the pain of negative pregnancy tests.  Hope cried every time some one had a baby or became a big sister.

Finally, I was told by the local infertility treatment would not continue.  I internalized all these failures.  I stopped caring and cleaning (laughing).  My days off were spent looking for answers to bring that other child home.  In 2013, I boarded a plane to California.  The first cycle failed during a family vacation.  I spoke to no one but a trusted few.  On March 28th, 2015, I got to announce a new pregnancy.  Joy is three years old now.  I have never felt quite right in my skin.  I feel different.  Does it need to be ugly different? There was a different disaster brewing at home.  All of sudden in the mist of this miracle, I was staying up all night to scrub walls and trying to kill off the black mold.  Finally this year, we have not seen signs of mold.  (Cross your fingers.  The basement has flooded a few times this summer.) We are aware of the other disaster.  My husband’s uncontrollable drinking.  Sometimes the answer is deeper than you want.  The answer is not just the object of desire.

I have spent these last three years trying to rebuild Camelot.  My husband has been sober a year now.  The effects of all these battles have other losses.  I went back to a support group.  I am at a fork in my own road of rebuilding.  I hate being the mother of the first documented case.  The loneliness is crippling.  The anger can be strong.  The sadness can pull you beyond the pit of despair.  I saw myself and my existence as ugly.  My oldest suffers from social anxiety and puberty.  My youngest has a sensory disorder, which no one in the medical community acknowledges.  There is the work/home balance which I struggle with.  Life is not a perfect condition.

I do have a sense of humor.  Somedays, I say in my tour guide voice.  This is the famous tiny house of the C family.  The mother didn’t believe in housework.  Over here, they threw everything in a pile, which is famous for the shape and texture of making not caring into sculpture artwork of hating house work.

In my fork, I am in this place.  This one all of me that screams I am ugly.  I lost multiple pregnancies and the last thing I want to do is be a “normal” member of society.  I made a promise to a God that now I am agnostic and I question.  It was a promise to my angel babies.  I could have shut down and let death take me at the end.  In reflection, my soul died in 2009 to 2011.  It flatlined.  On August 25th, 2015, I became aware of what my pain had caused.  I owe both my children the biggest apology.  I can no longer travel this road unattached to society.  For three years, I have put this house and each member back together.  This time, I need to embrace myself as a rare beautiful mother, grieve my losses and live life to the fullest with interactions with others.

The Lemons and Lemonade of Summer: Now Fall

Unofficially, summer ends on Labor Day.  According to the planet, we have a few more weeks.  This summer was way better than last year.   (Can you tell I started this one a few weeks ago.  It’s now Fall.) There was the lemons, all the plain accidents amongst family members that everyone has recover from.  No need to recap.

August is the rainbow parade of birthdays for our family.  Hope, my oldest is an teen ager now.  Joy had her first dry day of potty training on her big sister’s birthday.   She is not perfect.  She is having an accident a day. A few days there are none. I thought, I brought both home yesterday in infant carriers.  It’s a new school year and with it a new school year resolution.  So far, we have been arriving at the school with 10 extra minutes.  Her anxiety was high.  The oldest Hope will be in high school next year.

It seemed like the summer of health issues for the fur babies too.  We are facing a real life threatening crisis with our cat Raven.  The week of my youngest’s third birthday, I got a hysterical facetime message from my oldest Hope that something was wrong with the cat.  I watch his body flip around on the floor.  Hope was crying so hard.  I said to Hope it was either a seizure or a stroke.  I ended up leaving work.  A neighbor came over to be with Hope.  His vet said it was a seizure.  We ruled out poisoning.  We had to drive him to a local 24 hour hospital.

The vet bills have been high since the ferret died in May.  They told me he could have an MRI to rule out brain cancer.  I kept saying this cat is only seven.  I was corrected he was closer to 10.  Remember Raven is the cat, I found after my Christmas miscarriage.  An MRI is between $2,000 to $3,000.  The local 24 hour hospital had no vet neurologist.  The cat had another seizure.  An MRI seemed too expensive.   We decided to drive him to a veterinary hospital in Boston with a neurologist.  He came home the night before Joy’s 3rd birthday and he was blind.  I set up Joy’s play n pack and slept with one eye open.  The moment she woke up she said, “Raven is home for my birthday, momma.”  The other option was to try a combination of medication.  His symptoms also were common for a type of infection.  I talked it out with a few people.  We have to wait 6 months to see if he has another seizure.  If he does, it may be brain cancer and at some point the seizure medication will fail.  

Raven, a month later, is still blind.  Over the passing week, he has full range of the house now.  He navigates it well.  We are tapering his meds and hoping for the best.  The seizure med is for life.  The blindness will never go away.

Joy completed Early Intervention the day before her birthday.  My husband and I have gone back and forth about whether the school system should be involved.  We are rolling the dice and not involving the school system.   The Early Intervention had loaned her a compression vest to address her sensory issues.  We had a lot of issues between what Early Intervention had believed about the company on Joy’s last day.  She handed the loaner vest to the occupational therapist on her last day. It was a big moment for Little Joy.  Bless Joy! Thankfully, I placed the order before the occupational therapist suggested it.  It was coming from a foreign country, which held up the delivery.  We resolved the issues for a long time I thought I ordered the wrong one from the wrong company.   The president of the company was kind enough to call me back.  We had a learning moment for everyone.

It was a long wait for Joy for one week. and you could see her tension building.  First, her cat is on his death bed for all we know.  Second, it was her third birthday. (FYI: Thankfully, because she is three, she did not connect the idea that Raven was so ill before her birthday. I pulled the oldest side and told her not to connect the dots for Joy.  With her toddler innocence, she loved her birthday.  Raven’s illness was a separate incident. I peeled my eyes open from the lack of sleep and we had a good time. ) Third, the daycare was closed for vacation.  We kept to her sensory plan.  Joy surprised me.   I sent a lot of emails about obtaining her vest. It came that Friday of Labor Day weekend.  I took Labor Day weekend off.  We had the best time on day trips.

Hope had anxiety going into her last year of middle school.  Driving the cat from vet to vet costed her time on her summer reading and the worksheet packet.  Somehow, the outfits were brought. The school supplies was gathered.  Her hair got cut.  The reading packet was done late that night.  She started school the week before Labor Day as the school system in the next town over signed a law school is starting earlier.

I looked into possibly starting my own business all summer.  It’s a continuing to be a  working process project.  We are still waiting for the referral for Joy to be written for her to see an occupational therapist.  It’s been like pulling teeth.  The school system is not going to offer me something that doesn’t interfere with my work schedule.   I can’t afford lost work at this point anymore.   I am waiting to see how much we are going to owe on this new occupational therapy practice.  We owe up to $2,000 dollars on a deductible.

I got so tired looking for new homes in the town Hope goes to school in.  I was being turned down by my husband before ever seeing a house that I stopped asking.  It happened like I thought.  I put my back into fixing the house up to put it up for sale and he has thought of every excuse in the book.  In good news, no mold returned.  It took two years for us to clean the house to this point.  I also moved the family into the 21st century and got a dishwasher.    If there is ever a next time, I am demanding a home loan and professionals to help.  I actually relearned how co-dependent I was.  My husband learned how important it is to stay sober.  He has been for over a year now.

As for us, we function well as co-parents.  We are emotionally divorced.  I do love him just not in the same way.  Somedays, I grieve what was and what is our lives.  About two years after the breast cancer and the death of Addison, the drift started.  Other than having a loving guy with a twinkle in his eye for me, there is nothing missing in my life.   No one is being abused.  Next year in July, it will be 20 years.  I have been continuing to have a night out for myself with various hobby groups.  I continue to grow socially after being withdrawn for so long.  Sadly, the one problem in the universe I said we would never have, we do.  We turned into roommates.

Right before breast cancer surgery number 2, I arranged for the reverend who married us to come to the house to renew our wedding vows.  I knew we were about to find out who the carrier of the rare disease that killed our children was.  I wanted him to know that I would marry him again.  It’s not forever, but we are.  I continue to be a member of a support group and live my life, because I got the message after surviving breast cancer.  Life is too short.

We also did some wonderful donations in honor of our children recently.  The city had a Halloween costume drive for low income residents.  Unfortunately, all of Hope’s was inherited by Joy.  I brought some used ones.  The woman was kind enough to include more when I told her about our project.  There was a few Joy wouldn’t use.  I think it ended up being a hand full of costumes donated.  They plan to name one of the collection monsters Ariel (The name Joy picked and display the names  In Memorial to Avery, Addison and Haven Crompton.)

Sadly, an older child died from the Campomelic Dysplasia group.  Some of the money from the angel fund (the fund of collecting change donated in memory of our children) went to her funeral.  I cried a lot last week.  I am heartbroken for the family.  Then, the doggie daycare did a drive for the recent hurricane victims so items were sent there.

We ended up staying home this weekend.  I got a cold with multiple asthma attacks so I couldn’t finish my work day yesterday.  I slept most of yesterday.  We were suppose to go to a medieval fair for Hope’s history project.  My husband has been concerned about his bank being sold to another.  In the mist of all of this, I felt better enough for a local activity a touch a truck. (Joy loves school buses.  They didn’t have one.  She loved the trucks. )

It all connected to rare disease.  I did not speak of my concern for years.   I sat on this for a long time.   In the world of infertility, breast cancer and rare disease, it is all connected.  I am thinking of my wording here.  Neither husband or oldest child has access to this site.

There are developmental milestones as we women experience in puberty to get ready to bear children.  Hope is 13 years old.  We have had the conversation about birth control and going to the doctor’s prior to this.  I reached my milestone at the age of 11.  Hope it never happened.  My husband and I began to panic that perhaps this pointed to Hope being infertile.  Remember, the medical community is just guessing it will never effect Hope that she is a carrier of this rare disease.  They believe it is isolated to just our generation.  Hope reached that developmental milestone today.  When I did, I was spoken to about never getting pregnant until I was old enough by my mom.  It’s really hurt when I needed a fertility clinic.  I am not putting my mother on the spot.  My mother had every right to be concerned. There are a lot of family members, who had teen pregnancy.  I congratulated Hope for reaching that milestone.  I did not revisit the issue of birth control and seeing the doctor before having a baby to get updated about the rare disease.  I wasn’t ever ready to be apart of the first documented family.  I did not lecture how we were for the first documented case of carrying a fatal rare disease.  Not today, no need to damage another generation about the beauty of her body.  I hope the doctors are right.  Campomelic Dysplasia testing is in the US now.  I wish for Hope a life with wonderful career in whatever makes her happy, a long close relationship with that sister rainbow, for her to find love that lasts a lifetime, a child when she wishes with no fertility center needed and long living parents to drive her nuts!  After starting this post, 3 weeks later it is done! Amen from the agnostic mother of Hope and Joy!

Your Pink Elephant Is Real!

I sat through two appointments today about what to do with my youngest, who is 2 year old and having attentional/sensory issues.  This week has been a whirl wind.  I am trying to catch up after having a bad case of the stomach flu.  My oldest had an appointment too, due to her anxiety over middle school.  She is going to be going to counseling for  a bit.

It’s like this. Last fall, we paid a $1000 for the front end of my car to be rebuilt after a tire popped on the highway.  Thankfully, we walked away. I started hearing more noises lately.  It’s an inspection sticker month.  I asked them to look for the source of these noises.   I am hoping they just say your crazy lady.  I returned to get more $1000 estimates on more work to be done.

I was hoping the day of my 2 1/2 year old evaluation I was hoping to hear I was crazy too!  My gut is often correct.  The worry is setting in.  She is two and half and she needs services for attentional/sensory issues.  What is her future going to be like?  What will kindergarten be like?  I feel the guilt, the worry and the blame.

Remember something, my first daughter died from Campomelic Dysplasia.  I was a Rare Mom first.  I learned rather quickly how to advocate for Avery in the 14 weeks we knew.  It happened again.  I advocated for Addison.  Shortly later the breast cancer came.  We are not talking a rare disease or cancer.  Weather it’s migraines or sensory/attention issues, this rare mom is up for the challenge, because Avery Bravery taught me so.  Even through these are more common problems, my brain is on it!

Next week will be a little emotional for me.  It’s my birthday.  I am not grieving getting old.  I grieving my losses.  My father was extremely verbally abusive.  I knew that I was not wanted at an early age.  My mother gave me all she had.  It was my saving grace.  There is still a piece of me that makes me feel like a loser.  It is at this time a year, I miss my mom and my angel children the most.  I see what others have.  The negative thinking is having a field day in my mind. The empty parts of me light up with intensity.   My sadness has lessen compared to other years, when I would wake up in tears around my birthday.  Some days the emptiness of his words punch through.  I have plans to quietly celebrate my day.  This weekend with friends.  Next week, I will celebrate with the girls on the actual day.

Lately, my career path options has been popping up.  My resolution was to bring our family to a healthier path.  I signed papers for the school system to look at my youngest daughter.  She only has about 5 months with Early Intervention.  More time pressures on my schedule at work are possible.  This week was filled with antagonistic comments. I couldn’t fight them.  I feel like I work harder than I need too.  There are other options to make my life easier.  I don’t claim to have the perfect balance.  After Campomelic Dysplasia and Cancer, I don’t have the same priorities. Surely, there must be more options.  Life can’t be this hard.

There is a housing shortage.  All this hard work to get out of this city.  The houses without needing work are too expensive.  The thought of moving out of this house into another fixer upper depresses me.  We put so much into this house.  It may not be this year the big move.  I am hoping.  The last big project is the bathroom being redone.  No house is without work to be done.  Hopefully, we find that dream house and move on.  The other town is top preference.  I was told if my daughter could walk to a bus stop, they would consider transporting her.  Not so much is up in the air as compared to other times in my life.  I am going to hope.  I may take a plunge into a new career move.

PS-The doctor thinks Joy may have some milk protein allergy going on.   She is doing way better on milk free milk like Almond milk.  The eczema cleared up on her skin Her acid reflux meds are fine.  She recently had regular milk by accident.  Her behavior was uncontrollable and she had diarrhea.

Life Did Get Better: So Did Joy

PLEASE NOTE: I STARTED THIS ABOUT 2 WEEKS AGO.  IT NEVER GOT FINISHED.

I think I was ready to have a nervous break down with Joy.   Somehow! Someway! Little one’s light turned on!  I was constant and last weekend.  The little girl, who barely made it through dance class, she spent the entire class by herself and listening to the teacher.  My jaw dropped!  There she was out on the dance floor by herself and LISTENING TO THE TEACHERS!  WOW!

It wasn’t just dance school.  I heard from daycare that Joy did a 360.  The little one who couldn’t hitting others is listening.

We saw the hematologist.  I was the first family documented in the world for a rare disease.  I know doctors have to bring up all possibilities.  When her iron levels were normal and her blood cells were small.  They had to tell me the other possibility that she was a carrier of a blood disease, if the cells did not grow bigger after another month of iron.  I literally couldn’t breath at times the day of the appointment.  No one was more happier than me to hear she was fine.

Her behavior improved a few weeks ago.  Something clicked for Joy.  The doctors say the anemia had no effect on her mood.  Where did the 360 come from?  The other week after 8 years to put the crib up, we took it down and put the toddler bed up.  I had to redo the room.  It looks like a “BIG” Girl’s room.  I emailed the leader of the parenting group for Joy’s IVF clinic with all the good news.  When Joy went to dance class all by herself, we canceled the evaluation for Early Intervention.  She need constant consequences for her behavior.  The woman who runs daycare wasn’t doing that at all.  Unfortunately, I blew up at her.   Unloading repressed anger gracefully isn’t my strong suit.

I am trying to stop working split shifts and two jobs.  One, as tired as I am, I can never seem to sleep after working during the day and evening.  Two, it screws up my taxes so bad that I might as well deliver pizza for a living.  We do keep trying to look for a house we can afford.  We can’t find one.  We have an argument now.  Either way, the bathroom is getting done this year.  There is a huge possibility of mold growing behind those walls.  I am not risking our health and well being anymore.

I agreed to take more hours at the better paying of the two demons that I work for.  I cut my hours to once a month at the other job.  My medical oncologist office switched to a new hospital affiliation.  I had an appointment schedule for this year during last year’s appointment.  They failed to notify me that one the doctor is no longer there.  Two, a new hospital took over the practice.  Three, your appointment was canceled.  Monday, I had to work extra hours for a no show appointment on their end.  Then, the next day, they told me that I was a “new” patient and they couldn’t find me in the system.  My anxiety has been high.  Cancer patients want reassurance.  Grant, I do freak out with annual exams from an oncologist and a mammogram.  It is like whew cancer is not back today.  I got very angry.  I called a new cancer center in my town.  The new cancer center said, we have quite a few people transferring from over there.  I called whoever they are now and told them I want my records!  They insist they sent a letter.  They insist it must be my fault.  Well, the “quite a few people” are getting one more.  It was a nightmare to leave work early and go driving out in the snow to be stood up by the practice under a new hospital affiliation!  I don’t really care!  Just treat me right!  I am stressed about it!  It’s not good to be a cancer survivor with no mammogram or medical oncologist  appointment.

Tomorrow, Joy starts at a new drop in child center.  She is staying at her daycare center with the school system hours.  I have enough problems sleeping and remembering my own schedule.  I am not hiring another baby sitter to screw up my schedule.  At times, I didn’t know who hired who.  I am not working 6 days a week to pay someone with that type of treatment.  This drop in place is for childcare when I am in a pinch.  That way, I can do my trainings and get my medical appointment done.  As I have said, I am done complaining and hoping someone fixes it.  It’s about what I can do.  It’s also about me not taking on everything as my responsibility.

My oldest is having migraines.  Now, she looses vision for some time. Preteens are tough.  Unfortunately, chocolate is a migraine diet no-no.  I try the best I can as a prying mother!  (laughing!) I don’t have all figure out, but I keep trying.