The Challenges Of Today: Mother’s Day

I had a burning headache from today. A few days ago, I asked my husband to just buy me breakfast from a local place for Mother’s Day. Then last night, a lot of financial issues were coming up. I wrote how to make a devil egg for my 17 year old.

I love breakfast. I work and I live here. I need to get out. I went to visit a friend. My husband went to his parents. This morning, he says he is going to the bank. Our 7 year old was asking for breakfast. I am telling her to hold on because I didn’t know what was up. Forty minutes later, he has one breakfast in his hands for me. He didn’t have enough money for anyone else. He announces the kids will have cereal.

I couldn’t believe he would do that. Another option was to just buy eggs and let the oldest try to make the devil eggs. I absolutely blew up. I took the $20 out of my pocket and went to Dunkin Doughnuts and got the kid’s breakfasts and coffee for us. He couldn’t figure out what he did wrong. The account had plenty of money… 3 hours later he apologized. The 7 years old wouldn’t let me buy her breakfast. She was scared there wasn’t money. There was no need.

It has been a long very accusatory weekend. It’s been lots of arguing. I don’t even have a bed here to sleep in as the old saying goes. We sleep in different locations, I sleep on a futon

I told him if he was so concerned to return all the gifts. He can’t do that. He would have to donate them. He doesn’t return anything.

Fine. My anxiety was so high. I want to plant flowers at my mother’s cemetery. My cousins have threatened us. I was a little anxious. Memorial Day, we are away. I didn’t want to forget my mom. I went to the cemetery myself. I hang up on him multiple times. Fine. we agree to start over. We went to IKEA for diner. My head was burning. I laid down and napped. The 7 year old trashed the kitchen when I napped. I am pulling Orbies out of the garbage disposal. It has been a 💩 day! I don’t care about FN Mother’s Day. I said very clearly he is never to do that with meals. Kids don’t get that stuff. We had the money. There was no need.

Grieving Today!

Background grief. Yes you can still grieve and celebrate a happy event. Every year, I apologize for the way my daughter was treated upon her birth. I can do is control me. I am sorry there won’t be 30 people calling your name at graduation . The few you have is cheering for you! 😢.

I term the terminology consistently inconsistent. My daughter grew into a young lady with the few she had. It was cutting myself in half to loose contact with my nieces and nephew. Grieving today. The hardest decisions I have made. May no other generation suffer. We are less than a month from graduation!

I have senioritis! Yes, I graduated from high school 30 years this year! I have determined I will feel better Maybe by October! (After we drop her off to college!)🤣😂 Questions? Good luck to my daughter today on the 1st dance comp of her senior year!

Midnight Thoughts: From My First Daughter Anniversaries (What Would’ve Been Her 19th Birthday and now is the 19th Anniversary of Her Death)

I was just thinking how much of Avery’s death impacted Hope’s young life because a group of people couldn’t get over themselves. My first daughter died the day after birth from a rare disease. They couldn’t think outside the box, which was themselves.

I had to literally rescue my child Hope as a baby from doctor who needed to live in bubble to grow a sense of any boundaries. The worst devils have the most angelic names. Trust me he doesn’t remember this anniversary of her 6 month physical, which taunts me forever. LIt separated me from my nieces and nephew forever.

I learned a lot of really tough lessons about life. I am in agreement with all I did when she was 6 months old. It was the anniversary of Hope’s 6 month physical on February 15th? What was the purpose of telling me my blood brother and sister hated me for Avery? Last time I checked we were the parents of Avery and Hope. No one has ever taken our parental rights away. The toughest choice of my life my daughter or my nieces/nephew. Legally, I couldn’t do anything. I literally cried for a year without sleep because of that decision, when Hope was younger. I see Hope graduating this year.

My brother and my sister really crossed the lines. They thought they could criticize me and tell me to stop crying, when I should have been crying. They thought they would just show up. When Hope was born, they started barking orders like they were there all along. It was the hardest thing I ever did. My heart skips beats for the nieces and nephew that I was forced to leave behind to save my own daughter. I had no legal standing and I was her mom. I understand Narcissism and sibling abuse like a few other can. You don’t want to be here.

From these huge losses, I realized how co-dependent, I was. I got myself help. I saved myself. If that nightmare of an appointment never happened, I may have not realized how much I needed to change. It was my co-dependent behavior that all them took advantage of. To quote Elton John, I am still standing!

Practicing A Delayed Sense Of Gratitude In The Pandemic

The last entry is about my oldest daughter’s birthday. It went from the new normal speed to new crisis after new crisis speed. I am literally sitting down for a minute. Not all the crisis situations were BAD. One was a life expected transition.

We decided to invest in a shed last January long before the Pandemic. Our house is a smaller house. For years now, I have been avoiding the remodel and add a second floor. The pandemic pushed our house. When Joy was born, I painted the cellar and we made a family space in the basement. It’s kind of a second living room, my office entertainment area and play area. The second half has been storage. All summer, I sorted out stuff.

I feel sad and guilty. I never mentioned my youngest’s birthday. A lot of dust has been floating around due to the cleaning in the basement and shed. This summer, we learned to kayak and we went kayaking a bit locally in local lakes. Neither of our daughters have birthday parties. We usually do something small to avoid having multiple verbal abusive family members at the house and the whole drama at the birthday screen. Usually, we do something the day of each child’s birthday. This year, I worked for both birthdays. We had decided to do a vacation in July. We didn’t go away. We did a few day trips for both girls.

My oldest ran a temperature and she was coughing and sneezing. I struggled all summer long with my asthma. My oldest got scared to the point of demanding to talk to a doctor. This whole event kind of impacted my youngest’s birthday. It also rekindled the sadness of having a loving extended family. I have been reading on narcissism (self centeredness & emotional abusive relationships). I keep reading. This narcissism in relationships finally makes sense to me.

My youngest was suppose to have a birthday at daycare. We had to change it from this fun bus event to a personalized greeting message from her favorite aquarium due to the pandemic. I brought the kids prewrapped packages of muffins. We made a ring out of painter’s tape with the packages of muffins and decorated with dolphins. They were going to celebrate her birthday a week early before the daycare went on vacation. The doctor gave the oldest a Covid test. I agreed it needed to be ruled out. I pointed out that I thought it was a sinus infection. She agreed with that.

My youngest was MAD that she couldn’t go to daycare. She peeled paint off my kitchen. She hit and kicked me. My oldest and I just fought. The youngest broke a major board in my futon. She destroyed all the eggs. We had no frosting. She was pulling items out of the cabinets and refrigerator. I had ordered groceries for delivery. The store was telling me that I needed to order $35 more to qualify for delivery. It took 4 days of until the negative test came back. We were able to take her out to eat and we had a good day for her birthday. Her behavior just continued. I ended up buying locks for the refrigerator and cabinets.

Then, Labor Day weekend we went kayaking and out with another friend. We went to my birth city and we had the best time ever. I called my aunt since it was the death anniversary of her sister. She was grandiose. She hurt my feelings a bit. I found some lint and cat waste. We went though a lot of electrical problems during the lock down. Apparently the hose got disconnected. The cats decided to use it since they electrical litterbox was out of service. I cleaned it up without a mask. I woke up with a sinus infection and bad laryngitis. It did end. I never had a fever or a cough. Guess what, my husband tells me he is drinking again. I caught him and smelled off his breath.

Two weeks later than usual, my oldest started her sophomore year of high school. She is in advance and honor classes. Literally, one day later, I walked that little girl that I had struggle for 8 years to get pregnant with. I lead to her kindergarten teacher and left with tears. Ready, the next day after the first day of kindergarten, I had my mammogram. I was 18 months due.

At first, I was told they needed more pictures. Then, the doctor walked in. I just remember how neither family could be available to help with child care for my breast cancer treatment. It was quite a battle for my in-laws who never care for my children to watch my oldest daughter for my C-section to have my youngest. She told me to do it the old fashion way without my husband. I cried for the past week. My oldest told me how the cancer impacted her life as a kindergartener. I didn’t have the strength to fight my birth family and my in-laws for help. I barely slept. I asked for help this time. I wasn’t doing it again. I had a biopsy on Wednesday. Friday the good news came in! My biopsy was normal. The oldest give me a hug in between remote classes.

My asthma is bothering me. The cellar is 80% done. The shed is organized. The kids rooms are organized. I have been cautious about finishing the basement due to my asthma and allergies. I got mad at both families and I kind of blew up. I get tired of being the “invisible child, who never does anything right.” I have been laying low from both sides. It just been a lot. I am grateful for both girls, a house/home and that I am not in active cancer treatment. I am emotional tired.

Pandemic: Adjustment and Gratitude 10 Years Later As A Breast Cancer Survivor

I had to rewrite my schedule a thousand times during quarantine. I just got time to write. Human daycare , dog daycare and high school closed. My husband working from home. Joy brought home this awful cold. In time for the Quarantine.

I witness a day at my new perdiem job before society locked down. The day went from 8AM to 8PM. I was suppose to leave at 4:30. Instead I drove home on an empty stomach to say good night to my daughters. I had worked 6 days straight. At another perdiem job, the eve of the shut down. My co-workers who testing my boundaries left and right. On top of it, I had to decide on self quarantine. How does one quarantine when you sleep on a futon in the living room with two kids at home. I have no bedroom of my own. I slept or attempted to sleep in my car parked in the driveway on a cold March night. I had to drive away so my preschool daughter wouldn’t know I was there, so she wouldn’t approach the car. My high schooler had no school that week. My preschooler had daycare for another week. A few days later, I was told the good news, I never needed to quarantine. If you know Murphy’s law, it was a good thing that I did. If I didn’t, I could see the nightmare of an ending.

At first, I had these grand ideas about home preschool and the high schooler being home. March is tough. I remember that I have a brother and sister that I am cut off from due to their mental health issues and possible addiction problems. We have a secuirty system to monitor the house not only because of a crime ridden city that I call home. It’s to make sure the rotten apples of my family does not attempt something vengeful to our cars or home. Every birthday I mourn having a family outside of the home. Worst of all, I lied to my aunt that I moved out to keep the kids and husband away from vengeful incidents to the car and house.

It’s been years, I cry to have a loving family instead of the story of escaping domestic violence.

So the youngest brought home a cold from daycare. She had conjunctivitis. A few days before my 46th birthday, I got it. She is energetic and inattentive as Early Intervention said. She is 4 now. She has had tons of nightmares about the virus.

I had multiple asthma attacks, a stuffy nose and a broken heart for my birthday. The youngest was obsessing about the cake. After 1 millionth melt down later at 1PM, I bounced the birthday cake on the table, told them to eat it and declared I would never again celebrate my birthday. I have since apologized. I don’t want to celebrate my birthday. Every year, I hate March. I mourn the loss of loving family relationships. I do have the love of my children. I discovered this year that my mother had put my sister’s birth memory in my box of stuff. I couldn’t throw it out. I see her as a living being with feelings. It seemed immoral.

My temperature went high. The oldest got sick. The youngest had conjunctivitis in both eyes now. I agreed to get a test for this virus. Three tubes of conjunctivitis meds for all 3 women. Another adult back up was unavailable. The asthma woke me at all hours. My virus test was negative. My oldest was strep positive. I was getting worst. I have worked telehealth since last summer. I felt like I was drowning to death every time I spoke. I would get air and I had to teach home preschool. That wasn’t even the coronavirus. The youngest was getting into everything. I had to buy a lock box. I had to take everything away.

My condition? DEPLETED! Nothing from nothing is? I had a double ear infection and a upper respiratory infection. I think it was viral tonsillitis and laryngitis. I kept working. The family vacation in April was canceled.

Boundaries needed to be set. I brought bike locks for the kitchen stools. I locked them together so the youngest couldn’t move them. I got a hook for the cellar door to work in my office and a foot locker to lock the items the youngest wouldn’t leave alone.

I had no tears. Tears require energy for me. My aunt promised to help me return the document and she changed her mind. My mom accidentally also gave me my father’s sister’s childhood film. I found myself calling my father’s aunt. I hadn’t called her in 10 years. I had to avoid questions about why I had no clue about my brother or sister. No way of returning it. They have not seen or heard from my father’s sister. Do they know he is dead? Peacekeeping is a difficult task. I was the only one hurt. I wanted to ask why am I hated. I didn’t. It was in my head.

You need a real projector to view that one! We are cleaning the cellar to add to the family space in the basement. Neither inpatient perdiem jobs have called me back. My husband said please don’t worry about it.

Quarantine has been a transition for me. I love my Co-Dependents Anonymous meetings. I can’t go because. I work a split shift. Some hours during the school day. Some hours at night. I had to rethink everything. I was the high school hall monitor, doggie daycare staff and the lead preschool teacher. Then, there was my paying job. My husband and I have not been close in years. It is an functional relationship.

The smell of alcohol on his breath was occurring I began to notice. Last week, I asked him if he was drinking again. He said he was. Where would I go? Where would he go? He tells he brought me something. I have a ton of things. I need another reliable adult, who will be there if cancer returns. One to drive me to my mammograms. I am not telling my oldest. This was the third time. Now, I have lost two jobs and gained three non-paying ones. There is no safety concerns. I cried most of last week late into the night. When you don’t have daycare and you make less than minimum wage what can you do? My mother would take me in if she hadn’t died.

My mammogram was rescheduled for a time when daycare is ordered closed. I need benadryl to make it through the test. I called the local hospital and the big hospital. My gut hates mammograms. They are a strange security blanket for this breast cancer survivor. I asked to reschedule to September. This week, I was suppose to take the girls to New York to celebrate surviving 10 years later after the breast cancer diagnosis. Instead, we found a park in the western part of our state and we will do take out.

The biggest disappointment has been no preschool graduation for my youngest daughter. It was a week before my oldest daughter was suppose to graduate from preschool. I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Her ABC’s were A for your angel siblings, B is for the breast cancer your mother has. C is for Chemo. I lost my hair as she started kindergarten.

When my youngest came into the world, I thought I can’t wait for your preschool graduation. I have decided we are having a preschool graduation at home. She is graduating with the dog. 🤣 It’s about time that the dog graduates, he is six now. It’s keeping me busy. It makes her happy about cake and ice cream. The youngest’s ABC’s are different. A is away 6 feet from others. B is be careful to wear a mask and wash your hands. C is for coronavirus.

It’s odd. Every blizzard, I worked my inpatient job in cancer treatment. One job was 14 years of my life. There is a real disaster and I am home. I usually running into the crisis and I feel guilt for not being there. I see names of people who have died that I know and hear of people that I know with the virus.

I did learn that every morning that I need to mediate. I need to get some form of exercise. Every Saturday, I need a good drive to call Co-Dependent Anonymous friends to stay away from my enabling behaviors and people pleasing ways.

Ten years ago, since another daughter died same rare disease. I was diagnosed with breast cancer. My mom, who loved each one of my birthdays died. For months afterwards, I would have these anxiety provoking thoughts come from no where that my oldest daughter at home had died. I would burst into tears. I rebuilt my life.

My youngest applied for the school system kindergarten my oldest goes to. There is no plan B. I think both jobs are gone. I am anxious that I will be at an memorial service every weekend after the quarantine. All those grand ideas? Reality doesn’t work that way. Preschool home school needs to be flexible. If I need Sesame Street, I need Sesame Street.

My 10th anniversary isn’t going to happen as planned. Ten years ago, I didn’t ask to be the first documented family with this rare disease that took two children away. I didn’t ask for breast cancer or for my mom to die. I lost an acquaintance at church due to cancer during the quarantine. She and her significant other happened to be at the hospital every time my oldest angel daughter had an appointment. He died shortly later. Both had cancer. Here I am with those miracle two daughters. My oldest is heart broken about dance comp season not happening and summer camp canceled. My youngest cries for her friends. A bed is a bed even if it is a futon! The dog has daycare this week. Educationally , I don’t know what this means for either daughter. I need to do something about my functional relationship. When another child died and the breast cancer came. I had the irrational thought that I was being punished. I am grateful for my life. A lot is in the air, I am going to hope for a joyful world in every home.

The Silence Of A Sunday Morning: Scream Your Secrets!

I was a teenager, when a group of friends saved my life in multiple ways by bringing me to a twelve step program.  I grew up in a very domestic violent home.  When I was 25 years old, the courts decided to make our restraining order forever valid.   My mother was very broken by her own childhood.  She repeatedly told us to stay close to one another.  In her dementia, she told people that she didn’t want to cost anyone money when she died.  My brother called it her dying wishes.  I was the one to find her dead due to natural causes.   I was told not to invite anyone.  I didn’t understand why.  I worked full time and I was in a state of shock.   I was half way into my cancer treatment, when they had her cremated and had the ashes thrown around the family gravestone.  She deserved to burred like a Queen.

That being said, I have struggled to write this blog a billion times.  Sometimes, it was a book.  Sometimes it was short.  This is not the secret, I am releasing this morning.  Both my girls live a different life.  Both live middle class and stable lives.  It’s not the hush hush place I grew up in.

I am timing myself now.  I have a few minutes of Sunday morning silence. My last aunt needed heart surgery.  She reached out to me, after my mother died.  I decided not to entitle this one a letter to my nieces and nephew.  I love them, when they were born.  I spent every bit of extra money on them.

My sister got married after my brother had a son.  Her husband is a blog to describe him.  He was engaged to someone else, when my sister dated him.   Shortly after their marriage, my sister got pregnant.  I was in grad school at the time.  I needed to just earn money.  I left my high paying job to get my internship done.  I started to work at the same place as him.  We had a co-worker with a bladder condition.  He was the ring leader in harassment  that never should have happened.  She needed someone there to go to the bathroom.  He made toilet flushing noises over the radio and then he would show up like he never did anything.

I didn’t know what to do, I told him off myself.  My sister is pregnant and he says she can get a second job to support the family?  English major get a real job.

My cat almost died.  He found it funny.  He drew a sexualized picture of me with cat liter.  My supervisor at the time was laughing about it.  This time, I went my mother.  I was so hurt.  She called my brother and sister.

My sister, who I stood up for.  They came over the house.  I was given two options.  I could never see my nephew and nieces again if I persisted this happened.  I could confess to being mentally ill to my mother and told her I needed help.

The basis for this was I had depression after being diagnosis with thyroid cancer at age 19.  In two years, my father had plans to kill the family.  I graduated highschool and I went to college.  The thyroid cancer was found.  I went on anit-depressants for a while.  It allowed me to function in college.  I was terrified of losing contact with my nephew and niece.  I confessed to being mentally ill.

I have 10 minutes left.  This summer, I asked my sister to tell me about my Aunt’s condition.  She said she would.  Earlier in the year, I actually ended all social media contact with my cousins.  I have buried babies and any time I honor these angels they say I am looking for pity.  A lot of my 12 step friends are on my social media account.  My sister started taking pictures.  This is the reason this entry is timed.  My sister and brother have been very verbally abusive.  When my oldest was 6 months old, they continued to make statements about my oldest child having birth defects.

She decided to scene shot my social media account.  I had it with her.  For years, she went out of her way to verbal abuse me.  Since my brother-in-law drew such a sexualized picture of a cat, I screen shot all my cat photos posts and sent it to her.  I also told her my oldest aware of her verbal abuse.  I told her off.  Every birthday, I cry about these people.  She didn’t show up when I had breast cancer.  My youngest bares her name for someone else.

The next night, she decides to text my cell phone.  Again telling me that I am mentally ill.  Now she is saying I am on drugs.  I am not.  Abuser have ways of making their points truths if you allow it.  I wanted to say urine test me any day.  Dear sister can you say the same?

My cousin contacted me a week later to tell me she was transferred to a nursing home after being in the intensive care unit. I answer her calls.  I don’t think she is aware of what happened.  I couldn’t sleep due to them.  I think is best that I remain detached.

My sister called me asking them “to bend over backwards” who lives 20 minutes away from me when I was diagnosed with breast cancer.  Every birthday I cry.  This year, I am celebrating.  It was through my mother’s love and being involved in 12 step programs that I survived.

It’s been a long time of them harassing us.  Some of them looking at my husband’s resume on Linked-In.  They were logged in to make sure we knew.  If there is another event, I plan to go to the court house.  My oldest was so stressed for weeks.

The truth is I don’t deserve to hold this SECRET.  I deserve better.  I will talk about it some more in other posts.  My heart gets sad because it is just the four of us for the holidays and birthdays.    I am not their victim.  They will not victimize my daughters.  My girls can’t even understand their world.  I had multiple anxiety attacks just dealing with her.    I am creating and finding the real me.  I don’t want to remember that home filled with domestic violence.  I am safe in one of the worst places to live in the state.  I love my Co-dependents Anonymous group.  This is about preventing what destroyed my family for generations.  I am looking at my girls.  We are getting some cute results!

 

 

What Menopause Means For An Infertility Survivor:

My body is changing and I am not sleeping much. Since Joy, my youngest, was born, I knew my body was different. It was clear in my mind what was happening. I uttered the word, peri menopausal. My cycles shortened. I suffered from menorrhagia. menorrhagia? What is this? I often see on other women’s posts about menorrhagia GIFS from the movie The Shinning. The one were blood pours out of the elevators. It was a scary part of the movie. Women with menorrhagia have heavy cycle days. You feel it. It’s a rush. Unfortunately, before meds, I felt it and dripped down the hall at work. It is that embarrassing. I pack spare clothing in the car like a preschooler. Now, I have a little more experience. I take my medication without missing doses. For me to miss a dose now, I would need to be-in a coma. It’s so embarrassing.

I could never have the procedure to end it. I would carry another baby. I lost two beautiful babies due to a rare disease. I could not end my ability to carry because after burying two, who am I to trust nothing bad will happen. This old bag had a plastic bottom. I carry it in my bag in case I don’t make it on time.

I am breast cancer survivor and a chemo survivor so I knew this would happen. Now, it’s been a week and my period is late. I know there is no baby. In the old days, I would have been happy dancing and buying a pregnancy test in every color. I haven’t really had friend or a sister to process what is going on with my body. One nurse blurted out to me, “it’s going to come back at some point.” It isn’t that simple for me. Even through, I am not in active infertility treatment, I feel I am grieving the losses and infertility again. I am facing a lot of emotions saying good bye to my baby making years. If this just as simple because I have hot flashes this would be a different blog. This blog would be extremely short. I would just say hot flashes suck (end of blog.)

I have been through five different pregnancy losses. For ten years of my life, I struggled with the negative pregnancy tests or learning there was no heartbeat. Good bye is such a simple word. I hated my period. No matter how the 350 other times the pregnancy tests came out negative, I always found a reason to believe I was pregnant. I hate you period for all the disappointment. I hate you for the tears and empty arms. I hate you for going back to the drawing board! I hate you for the shots and tests I had to endure. I hate you for all the pregnancy/birth announcements that were not mine. Just stay positive! Maybe the next pregnancy test will be it!

If it ends, I have truly lost my ability to have a baby. Not that we could afford another or have room for one more. It’s been a bittersweet relationship. You were a true killjoy. (In irony of my youngest daughter’s name Joy, I say that! Quite a Cinderella word.) You were a true possibility of another month after an 8 year struggle!

My period has symbolized many happy life events as well. It was my youth. It was my potential to bring ten fingers and toes into this world. It was my excuse to eat chocolate in large quantities! It was my excuse to be grumpy! It’s not just menopause! I find myself menopausal with a little girl and a fourteen year old soon to be in high school with a bunch of conflicting emotions. I am blank here! I will end this by saying (Period the end!)

I Deserve Healthy Relationships

A few months have passed since I last wrote.  My husband and I were able to straighten our finances out.  I have been working in a very unhealthy and unfriendly work environment.  I work 30 hours a week for two places.  This way I can get my oldest from school.  For this one place, I work for two different programs, which equals into 10 hours.  Something happened.   I fixed it.  Three months later, the big boss decides literally that I need to be spoken to again.  The guy was like listening to a old car sales man trying to push a dead car.  I read him blind folded.  Of course, I am  at the bottom of the list for productivity. I only give 10 hours a week where the other employees give 40.

No one is connected to one another.  Some of my co-workers feel it is okay to publicly verbally abuse you.  With us figuring out our finances, I decided to quit.   I do have another job.  We were able to free ourselves from a lot of bills.  We decided to not sell the house.  We just were able to pay for the donor conception for our youngest daughter by doing that.  I recently finished paying back my college/grad school loans.  We do live in a crime ridden city with a low mortgage.  I joke with you not if you go to youtube and watch a video on our state and the 10 worst places to live, our city’s name is in there.  I got tired of trying to move to the town next door.  All we could afford was fixer uppers.  We did so much work to our current house.  It didn’t make sense.  My marriage has been on close to destruction the last few years.

I have had my youngest in daycare for the past 3 years.  Her first daycare center was warned for neglect by the state.  Her second daycare kept just telling me she was having “perfect days” for a check.  It was when a parent threatened to tell the state for my daughter being out of control that I was told to move her.  I sit here and struggle with her hyperactivity.  The occupational therapist kept demanding $300 for every session at Christmas time.  Honestly, I think she may have ADHD.  I told the we would continue after Christmas.  My husband brought a more expensive insurance policy.  I sent them all the information.  They failed to rearrange to meet with her.

I tried to get her into public preschool.  She was declined.  The school system will not evaluate her, which is against the law.  Early Intervention recommended her evaluation. She is almost 4 years old now.  I am going to have a food allergy test done.  She has suffered with eczema all winter with rashes that I don’t even know what is causing them.  I am also getting a Neuropsychological test done on her to see if there is a learning disability going on.

My oldest continues to have vestibular migraines.  A lot of stuff.  I will be catching up on some stuff at home in the way of organization.  We are having some repairs done to stop the floods in the basement.  A few years ago, we were struggling with mold in the house.  I am going to work at my inpatient job per diem.  My plans are to spend time with the girls.  (Can you believe my oldest is going to high school next year?).  I am looking into starting my own business.

My co-workers at that one job are nastier than ever.  I have done a lot of work in Co-dependents Anonymous.  I still don’t catch the verbally abusive behavior on time.  I am setting a goal this week not to just sit there and take it.  Growing up in the domestic violent environment taught me to not make waves.  Today, I am making tidal waves.

I am hoping to start a few days a week on my own business and hopefully, maybe I don’t need to work for anyone anymore.

My husband and I have been working on it.  It takes time.  Last week, he was acting very odd on Mother’s Day.  I took my youngest to this parade that I had only dreamt of in infertility treatment.  I closed the door and left him and all the mess at home.  Unfortunately, it was raining hard during the last half of it.  A really bad weekend last week.  My oldest had a dance competition from 8:30AM to midnight.  I got sick with a chest cold.  I screaming, please let me sleep Sunday on Mother’s Day.  My 3 years old was up at 6AM and my husband didn’t want to help out.    I ended up being diagnosis with pneumonia last week.  The entire day, I questioned if he had taken a drug because of how he was acting.  It could have been the procedure he had from the week before.  Career wise stuff will work out.  My priorities are to finish working my two month notice, keep good boundaries and spend time with the girls.  We are going to be able to pay the bills with me working this one job.  My husband’s previous employer had a merger.  He was able to get a new job and he starts tomorrow.  Meanwhile, I need to work on self care and setting boundaries.  It’s about where I am growing not my perfectionism.

 

PS-Please note next Friday, I celebrate being a 9 year breast cancer survivor!

Today: A New Relationship With My Birthday

I have learned so much by going to Co-Dependents Anonymous. I grew up with a father,who had serve mental illness. We were poor. My mother and grandmother had college dreams for us girls. They didn’t push my brother. I am not in contact with my siblings due to their addictions. My brother is a businessman. He made himself. He never went to college.

College was this magically place as a child. You went there and a house, kids, jobs, white picket fences, a cat and a dog appeared after you were done. I had a lot to learn as an adult.

I had been born a beautiful healthy child. I recently looked into my baby book. I walked at a year and talked too. There was a horrible stomach virus that hit the house that year. Forever, left marks on my life. I had to be hospitalized. Some time in the night, the hospital realized my kidneys were failing. My mother did not have a phone, because my father hadn’t paid the bill. The hospital quickly transported me to a hospital with an Intensive Care Unit in Boston. They sent the police to notify my mom. I was semiconscious at times, which required multiple medical staff to work with me. They called me tiger.

I needed multiple blood transfusions. The word that I may need a dialysis was thrown around. It was six weeks of hell for my mother. She observed scenes of newly bereaved parents screaming. What happened to make the kidneys fail?

My father’s sister deemed me mental retarded for life do to the illness. My siblings became jealous of me. My well off grandparents blamed my mom for not cleaning the house. She blamed them for owning an pest control company that sprayed the cranberry bogs.

My mom decided she would put me in a play and pack with a heavy lid to keep me safe. I needed to run and play. The school system stepped in and I was sent to specialized school programs to help me catch up. I wasn’t ready for kindergarten on time. I would have been in the second grade. The school decided first grade was the best place for me. The kids wanted to know if I stayed back. I internalized all this. My mother said I was a miracle. Not everyone else felt the same.

My father didn’t want children and he verbalized it to us. When I was 18, my father gave my mother an ultimatum. I was 18. Their job was done. Leave me or he was leaving. My mother stood up for me. She said no. He stopped paying everything. One night, the landlord was going to toss us out. My father left and threatened to have us killed. We spent years in court. He would follow us in the court house when the restraining order had to be renewed. One year, I wrote a letter to the courts. We were granted permeant a restraining order. Father’s Day hurt for years. No father of my own.

When I finished my masters program, I realized that I hadn’t been raised the same as other kids. That’s when I started people pleasing. I figured that I would get ahead by following the crowd. The universe and just plan bad luck had other plans. I became a bereaved rare disease mom. Just one month after Avery, the first died, I turned 30. My cycle started that very day. I couldn’t get up. I sobbed so hard. I wanted a baby. Years of being told I was not wanted by my dad and I came home with an empty uterus and arms.

People uttered their opinions of Avery. It was not their disaster. It was our daughter. Not anyone else’s. We were her legal guardians.

I got pregnant with Addison. Addison was original due a few days before my birthday. Her nick name was, “momma’s birthday gift. She was born still a week before Thanksgiving. The same rare disease. Six months later, I became a breast cancer survivor with a mission. The tiger in me was speaking. I wanted two children. For the 8 years of infertility, my birthday became a reminder of a child that I didn’t have.

Birthdays are depressing for me. I lost two of my strong holds when I had cancer treatment. My dance teacher who battled cancer all her life died, My last cycle with my own eggs occurred in March. My best friend who suffered with infertility, relapsed on alcohol and killed himself just 14 days before my 40th birthday.

I love my pets. That’s how I survived a house of physical abuse by my father. One of my closest cats died a week before my birthday. Almost a month later, her partner in crime and mate died from stomach cancer, The second cat was our beloved Floridian Maine Coon cat. I made a risky choice to continue onward through embryo conception. It was a huge financial risk for us.

From embryo conception, we got pregnant with our daughter Joy. Her pregnancy was almost the same as our oldest daughter Hope. It was a few weeks shy of hers, because Joy was born the end of August and Hope was the middle of August. I announced Hope’s pregnancy on my birthday. In 2015, I announced we were pregnant with Joy.

The emptiness of my birthday returned. I find I grieve the lost relationship of my siblings due to addiction. People tend to forget. I would miss my mom who was her own brand of silent beautiful tiger. She would say, “I can’t wait for your birthday in spring.” She was just 15, when her mother died of a heart attack. It left her and her 4 other sisters to fight in the world to survive on her own. She told me I brought joy into her life. Sadly, a week before my birth. My cousin was born and died. My mother made my cousin my godmother.

I survive many loss anniversaries being a rare disease bereaved mom. I find it helps for me to get involved in projects geared to kindness and advocating for rare diseases. My birthday seems to echo all these lonely places in my heart.

I have been in Codependents Anonymous a year now. I went from people pleasing behaviors to social withdrawing. I am more of a introvert than I ever was. There is a piece of me that feels less than. On March 28th, my birthday, it awakens the empty places. The places of grief.

I am thinking of ways to survive March. Maybe life didn’t happen as planned. My life is not over. It is precious this adventure called life. There is lots of beauty and danger. I haven’t exactly figured out what is my personal meaning and what a healthy relationship is.

I am thinking what I need to do is lower my expectation of the day. I never give thanks for those who were there when I almost died at 14 months. Today, I am donating blood and donating money. I am hoping this rebuilds my relationship with my birthday. If I sit around and grieve the losses, I am somehow agreeing with the message that I am not okay. It’s simply not true. I need to love myself.

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.