So I've sat so many nights, wanting to write but with the lack of mental clarity at such an hour to do just that. Life is so full it seems with the day-to-day routines of being mom, employee, mom, babysitter, cook, tutor and sometimes even a cleaner and wife that the "me" in me seems to have receded into some dark and cobwebbed corner of my brain. Every now and again - now for instance - I have a flashback to being Julie, the creative and open-minded young woman that had so many things on her Bucket List...a journey to Africa to help in a village somewhere; a theatrical success roaming the continent and beyond, honing my craft as I went; a writer of novels, maybe screenplays...young and confident with the world as my oyster. But...where did my pearl go? I have only the shell, devoid of the riches.
My greatest pledge, most constant desire was to become a mother. Family was always at the heart of my life. When God blessed us with our children I felt overwhelmed with joy. Now my life would truly begin...I would have children to be accountable to and to be a role model for. I would make the most of life and show my children how to go after what they wanted out of life, how to live being God's child...or so I thought.
How quickly "life" takes hold of those dreams and desires. How quickly being the victims of the ecomomy and losing income and losing a child and having twins changed what I had always thought would be the beginning and became what felt more like the end of opportunity for me. This was it - what life had in store for me. Don't ever for a moment think that I am not grateful for my beautiful family, although it may come across as though it isn't enough, I do know how very blessed I am...every day God reminds me of that.
No, it was a turning point for "Julie" the person, the adventurer, the ever-optimistic and confident woman that screeched to a halt with the suddeness of massive responsibility and reality of 'every day life' becoming mine.... I wasn't prepared for that. I, in fact, was going to be different! I had plans! Still, here I was...amidst diapers and demands and dishes and laundry and grocery lists and tight budgets...I had become "the average stay-at-home mommy". What a blessing and a disaster all rolled into one....
I have spent years trying to find my way through the fog of parenthood and asserting my ability to think beyond the mere poopy diaper and salvaged some of my sanity through volunteer work at school and the church. However, the reality of my impending mid-life crisis came packed with a punch when faced with re-entering the workforce. Oh, I once again was blessed with a good opportunity to work around my boys' school schedule, but at what cost? Never before had minimum wage been mine...never before had I felt so mush like a fish out of water working at a desk. I needed more, deserved more. This was it - my crisis had begun.
Thinking back to when my own mother went back to work, I felt I had missed my calling and should have completed teacher's college - I of course didn't have that epiphany until volunteering one day at the school. I loved it there; I think I smile the most when in that school helping the kids.... My mom was fortunate enough to start back to work after almost 20 years at home as a Teacher's Aid in a day care. She quickly and deservedly became a cornerstone of that daycare with her background raising three children, babysitting and older more settled outlook on life. I started thinking, 'well, I should do my ECE now and follow those footsteps so I can be in that environment with children; maybe even use my office experience to become a director of a day care one day'. Then I researched the education...too expensive, and where on earth would the time come from to study? There simply aren't enough hours in a day!
Next, I thought about adding my resume to the pile that get submitted to the board offices each week, but have been told it could take up to two years to ge noticed, if at all, then of course there are only temp positions at the entry level.... I feel too old to start so far down, besides which, I need an income. Am I sounding like a spoiled child yet?
Oh, there have been many other creative ideas that have sprung up over the past year...I would love to write stories and become a professional story-teller, or write for web-sites with the up and coming 'Mommy-Blogger' career boom...but seriously, what do I have to offer there? I know my kids, my life and I'm not even sure if I know myself so well any longer...what on earth could I write about that would be of interest? And never mind that I have no "credentials", no papers saying I have studied successfully the art of blogging or teaching or anything like that....
So here begs the question; now what?
This writing here is truly a random writing in the true sense of the words. I am blarting out everything as it has been cooped up in my head for too long and now needs to escape. I'm not really sure what of it all will make sense, nor am I concerned - to make a contemporary comparison, like a bad flu, I just want it all out of me...and onto a page (or screen as it were).
Now, I go to church more now again, and have found a wonderful home in a local church that all five of us have connected to very quickly and easily. I am learning more about connecting with God and communicating with him and being who He wants me to be. Maybe that has to do with some of my panic. I want to be the best daughter to Him I can be, and I believe and feel so strongly that I am on the cusp of something huge, of finding my true place here and fulfilling His will for me. I truly feel that somewhere within breathing range is that 'sweet spot' that will make me happy, help my family and do some good 'out there'.... I can almost taste it, yet I can't sense the flavour.... My colourful past has brought me so much variety in experiences, I just can't pinpoint my path. I suppose many a God-like figure might say that I must exercise patience and wait for God to be ready for me, but patience like that has never been a virtue of mine. I do hope God understands as I would never mean to offend!
I really feel strongly about nurturing my writing and also my desire to be around children....I must I suppose wait for God to help clear the clouds away so that I may see my path more clearly.... I have so much to offer...somehow...some way....
Ahhh, there it is - complete. 'Brain drain'. I may feel no closer to my destiny, but I definately feel further from my uncertainty!
Now for a cup of my new favorite cup of herbal tea and some rest for this weary head! If you happened to read through this posting (and made it all the way through to this statement), please feel free to comment with your suggestions or comfort from familiar experiences!! I believe everything happens for a reason, so if you've made it this far in this post, maybe it's because you have something to say too!!
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Monday, November 22, 2010
It's Been Awhile....
It's been awhile since I've been here -
A strange yet familiar place.
I've wanted to return time and again,
But life has become a hectic pace.
Instead of healing and taking deep breaths
I have been resigned to fleeting rests.
"Find the happy!" says the writing on my wall...
Obviously written through a much better time.
Now I hustle and bustle about
All the the while, just like a mime.
I've lost the momentum, the virver, the drive
That comes with feeling wonderous and alive.
Something inside has become detached
From the very soul of me, my inner self
But it's now or never - life doesn't wait
It's time to retrieve it from the shelf.
A strange yet familiar place.
I've wanted to return time and again,
But life has become a hectic pace.
Instead of healing and taking deep breaths
I have been resigned to fleeting rests.
"Find the happy!" says the writing on my wall...
Obviously written through a much better time.
Now I hustle and bustle about
All the the while, just like a mime.
I've lost the momentum, the virver, the drive
That comes with feeling wonderous and alive.
Something inside has become detached
From the very soul of me, my inner self
But it's now or never - life doesn't wait
It's time to retrieve it from the shelf.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Hermit Crab
Ahhh, the hermit crab - a charmed life. When you outgrow your environment, just crawl into a new one and continue on....
This year has been about saying goodbye to those old shells and trying to welcome change as if it was an anticipated guest. Like every year, this one has had its ups and downs, but the jury is out as to whether the downs outweigh the ups. If I look at things in a shallow light, the bad wins hands down, but if I look again with different eyes, the bad has only fostered more good, thus providing good with the win.
It's all in the perspective.
Written on the wipe board to my left are the following statements; "Work Hard Today!" "Trust God!" "Deep Breaths!" and "Find The Happy!" These are all things I both believe and have to remind myself of daily, if not hourly at times.
So, with that vibe in mind, I shall say this; I am not sure what tomorrow may bring, but I am confident with my ability to get through anything life throws at me, 5 minutes at a time.
And there's the answer...the "ups" prevail. What I have faced this year has doubled what I have learned, in both a literal and a figurative way. Nothing can ever be the same as it was, nor should it be. Time to embrace the new shell and leave the old for someone else to trade up to!
This year has been about saying goodbye to those old shells and trying to welcome change as if it was an anticipated guest. Like every year, this one has had its ups and downs, but the jury is out as to whether the downs outweigh the ups. If I look at things in a shallow light, the bad wins hands down, but if I look again with different eyes, the bad has only fostered more good, thus providing good with the win.
It's all in the perspective.
Written on the wipe board to my left are the following statements; "Work Hard Today!" "Trust God!" "Deep Breaths!" and "Find The Happy!" These are all things I both believe and have to remind myself of daily, if not hourly at times.
So, with that vibe in mind, I shall say this; I am not sure what tomorrow may bring, but I am confident with my ability to get through anything life throws at me, 5 minutes at a time.
And there's the answer...the "ups" prevail. What I have faced this year has doubled what I have learned, in both a literal and a figurative way. Nothing can ever be the same as it was, nor should it be. Time to embrace the new shell and leave the old for someone else to trade up to!
Sunday, September 26, 2010
blank page...
blank page
like the ocean
you baffle me
clear and free
of liter(ary) garb
quiet, untouched
almost beckoning
my creative mind
to make waves.
tormenting current
pulling me in
away from shore
past the middle
i continue to swim
strong, short lines
on new land
the ocean behind
i baffle no more
over the ocean
across the page
a bridge of words
like the ocean
you baffle me
clear and free
of liter(ary) garb
quiet, untouched
almost beckoning
my creative mind
to make waves.
tormenting current
pulling me in
away from shore
past the middle
i continue to swim
strong, short lines
on new land
the ocean behind
i baffle no more
over the ocean
across the page
a bridge of words
Simple Words
What do we have to offer but a few words?
A few words of wisdom
A few words of praise
A few words of support
A few words of sympathy
A few words of thanks
A few words of love
What do we have to offer but a few words?
for Jaime...
A beautiful angel flies through the sky
Hears our prayers as we say good-bye,
And carries them home to God above,
A sounding tribute of our love.
A boy so brave did grace our lives;
Brought us joy, such memorable times.
We can't forget his charming smile.
A blessing it was to know this child.
His positive outlook, his mischievous ways,
These beautiful memories will brighten our days.
To know that now he is at peace,
All the pain has now ceased,
Heals up to heal, helps us to see
The free spirit he came to be.
The chains that bound him here on earth
Have been set free in his rebirth.
For he walks now at God's side,
Each beautiful step filled with pride.
And while we here struggle in pain,
We know one day we will see him again.
So we give thanks to the time God gave
With this wonderful soul who was so brave.
Thanksgiving Grace
Today I was reminded of a moment long since silenced, but not forgotten. One moment that existed so long ago now...lives ago....
It was a time of happiness, expectation and naivety. Just like any other family, we were excited at giving our first-born a sibling. When the time came, we both wept momentarily as we realized that our family of three would soon become a family of four. Then we saw the doctor and everything began to change. I began to have issues with the pregnancy immediately. Even the doctor tried to prepare me with what only now sounds logical to my ears; "I'm not going to kid you - this could very likely be the beginnings of a miscarriage."
I don't remember ever being so frightened. I must have cried a river. I went to church to pray for strength and the health of our unborn child, already struggling to survive. I tried not to cry, to bring attention to myself, but my heart pounded with fear. My instincts were kicking in, but my heart wouldn't listen. I couldn't..wouldn't connect to this baby just yet.
It became difficult struggling with saving one baby at the expense of not being able to be a mother to my first child. He didn't understand and it upset me more. Being pregnant was supposed to be a happy time, a time to yell from the rooftops that our family was growing. Yet, here I was, afraid that people would see the fear in my eyes if I told them - it was easier not to let anyone know.
Days continued and nothing changed. I was no worse off, but no better either...which I made myself believe was a positive thing. Everything was so different from my first pregnancy that it masked the truths about what was happening - all of the signs were just chalked up to it being a different baby. All of the instincts I was having about this unborn child were underscored by some logical comparison.
Days ran into weeks, and things went up and down. When the symptoms returned so did the fear but I carried on, no idea what was on the horizon. That was Thanksgiving. Two weeks following that, the nightmare began.
The doctor didn't say much that morning, he just turned and picked up the phone to book an emergency ultrasound for me. My heart sank and the fear clutched at my throat as my stomach tied in knots. They took me right through at the clinic - an old little place that didn't emit comfort in the least, but as least there would be answers. The technician was quiet about her work and scowled at the monitor over and over. I knew something was wrong.... I tried to ask questions, but my fear grew as she explained she wasn't allowed to say anything. I begged her to show me the baby...so she relented. What I saw next was my own confirmation and the only glimpse I would ever have of our child. It was small, but it was etched into my mind forever. The technician turned the monitor away quickly and there was nothing to say. That was noon.
I waited for the reality of the doctor's phone call and hours went by. The phone didn't ring at 6, or 7 or 8 either. I called the doctor's office from our bedroom phone and left a message. there were splashing sounds of a happy toddler taking a bubble bath coming from the bathroom when the call finally came. I sat on the edge of the bed and listened...only the first few words were crystal clear; "It isn't good...." The rest trailed away as the shock took over and rawness of pain began sweeping through each vein in my body. I managed to finish the conversation, then say something quickly after hanging up before the sobs overwhelmed my voice. I ran to the sofa and threw myself into a ball in the corner of it. I had to make calls to family...they were also waiting to hear the news.... I managed to dial and spoke to my mom...but I could already barely speak. It hurt more to say it out loud. A short time elapsed before I felt mom's comforting arms around me. All I could muster by now was "My heart hurts" over and over and over again. I stayed there for hours, my heart hurting and breaking with every sob. I can't think now how it must have felt to grieve the loss of your grandchild, yet watch your daughter's world fall apart, but everyone took care of us first, without reservation or question.
I can't describe the feeling of carrying a non-living baby, however small, inside of you. The statement alone is raw and ugly. It's a bizarre and unjust thing to have to find emotions for. It was the loss of our dreams for this child - I was mourning the idea of who this child would become and how he or she would fit into our family. I was sad for our family - my husband, our son and myself - that this new child we had planned and wanted would not be.
I was strangely brave at the hospital for the procedure that morning - October 30th, 2002. I held up my chin and told myself it would all be over soon. Then when my husband had to leave and I was left alone to wait those final moments before surgery, the wall I had built around myself all morning began to tumble, brick by painful brick. I could hear the nursing station - the banter about something meaningless and I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs for them to shut up. How could anyone 'just be' when I was going through this hell?
Finally I went into the operating room. I remember clearly lying there, both arms strapped down, involuntary tears streaming down either side of my face. I said to the nurses, "I had thought the next time I would be in a hospital would be to deliver the baby, not for this...." The nurse dabbed the tears from my face as I felt myself finally drifting away....
When it was over and we went home, there was a long and devastating climb back to being myself again. The pain of the loss stung at every turn, made worse by the taunting of post-partum, which I had to endure without a baby to distract me.... Eventually I turned to friends and family to drag me up to my feet again. It was a call to my aunt - a priest - that helped me to finally let go. She knew I needed closure and suggested I name the baby in order to release it's spirit.
Grace. My Grace-angel. Never has a name come to me so easily.
I began to heal after that defining moment. I don't know at what point my Grace stopped being, but I do know that I gave her that name and let God take her home finally. And for that, God blessed me the following Thanksgiving with twins and my year had quite literally gone the full circle of life. My Thanksgiving babies...all three of them, share a piece of my heart and always will, along with my oldest baby. Grace is remembered most at Christmas now, with an ornament thoughtfully and lovingly placed on our tree every year....
Today I was reminded of my sweet Grace-angel. Now she lives here too, forever.
I love you my Grace.
Love, Mommy xo
It was a time of happiness, expectation and naivety. Just like any other family, we were excited at giving our first-born a sibling. When the time came, we both wept momentarily as we realized that our family of three would soon become a family of four. Then we saw the doctor and everything began to change. I began to have issues with the pregnancy immediately. Even the doctor tried to prepare me with what only now sounds logical to my ears; "I'm not going to kid you - this could very likely be the beginnings of a miscarriage."
I don't remember ever being so frightened. I must have cried a river. I went to church to pray for strength and the health of our unborn child, already struggling to survive. I tried not to cry, to bring attention to myself, but my heart pounded with fear. My instincts were kicking in, but my heart wouldn't listen. I couldn't..wouldn't connect to this baby just yet.
It became difficult struggling with saving one baby at the expense of not being able to be a mother to my first child. He didn't understand and it upset me more. Being pregnant was supposed to be a happy time, a time to yell from the rooftops that our family was growing. Yet, here I was, afraid that people would see the fear in my eyes if I told them - it was easier not to let anyone know.
Days continued and nothing changed. I was no worse off, but no better either...which I made myself believe was a positive thing. Everything was so different from my first pregnancy that it masked the truths about what was happening - all of the signs were just chalked up to it being a different baby. All of the instincts I was having about this unborn child were underscored by some logical comparison.
Days ran into weeks, and things went up and down. When the symptoms returned so did the fear but I carried on, no idea what was on the horizon. That was Thanksgiving. Two weeks following that, the nightmare began.
The doctor didn't say much that morning, he just turned and picked up the phone to book an emergency ultrasound for me. My heart sank and the fear clutched at my throat as my stomach tied in knots. They took me right through at the clinic - an old little place that didn't emit comfort in the least, but as least there would be answers. The technician was quiet about her work and scowled at the monitor over and over. I knew something was wrong.... I tried to ask questions, but my fear grew as she explained she wasn't allowed to say anything. I begged her to show me the baby...so she relented. What I saw next was my own confirmation and the only glimpse I would ever have of our child. It was small, but it was etched into my mind forever. The technician turned the monitor away quickly and there was nothing to say. That was noon.
I waited for the reality of the doctor's phone call and hours went by. The phone didn't ring at 6, or 7 or 8 either. I called the doctor's office from our bedroom phone and left a message. there were splashing sounds of a happy toddler taking a bubble bath coming from the bathroom when the call finally came. I sat on the edge of the bed and listened...only the first few words were crystal clear; "It isn't good...." The rest trailed away as the shock took over and rawness of pain began sweeping through each vein in my body. I managed to finish the conversation, then say something quickly after hanging up before the sobs overwhelmed my voice. I ran to the sofa and threw myself into a ball in the corner of it. I had to make calls to family...they were also waiting to hear the news.... I managed to dial and spoke to my mom...but I could already barely speak. It hurt more to say it out loud. A short time elapsed before I felt mom's comforting arms around me. All I could muster by now was "My heart hurts" over and over and over again. I stayed there for hours, my heart hurting and breaking with every sob. I can't think now how it must have felt to grieve the loss of your grandchild, yet watch your daughter's world fall apart, but everyone took care of us first, without reservation or question.
I can't describe the feeling of carrying a non-living baby, however small, inside of you. The statement alone is raw and ugly. It's a bizarre and unjust thing to have to find emotions for. It was the loss of our dreams for this child - I was mourning the idea of who this child would become and how he or she would fit into our family. I was sad for our family - my husband, our son and myself - that this new child we had planned and wanted would not be.
I was strangely brave at the hospital for the procedure that morning - October 30th, 2002. I held up my chin and told myself it would all be over soon. Then when my husband had to leave and I was left alone to wait those final moments before surgery, the wall I had built around myself all morning began to tumble, brick by painful brick. I could hear the nursing station - the banter about something meaningless and I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs for them to shut up. How could anyone 'just be' when I was going through this hell?
Finally I went into the operating room. I remember clearly lying there, both arms strapped down, involuntary tears streaming down either side of my face. I said to the nurses, "I had thought the next time I would be in a hospital would be to deliver the baby, not for this...." The nurse dabbed the tears from my face as I felt myself finally drifting away....
When it was over and we went home, there was a long and devastating climb back to being myself again. The pain of the loss stung at every turn, made worse by the taunting of post-partum, which I had to endure without a baby to distract me.... Eventually I turned to friends and family to drag me up to my feet again. It was a call to my aunt - a priest - that helped me to finally let go. She knew I needed closure and suggested I name the baby in order to release it's spirit.
Grace. My Grace-angel. Never has a name come to me so easily.
I began to heal after that defining moment. I don't know at what point my Grace stopped being, but I do know that I gave her that name and let God take her home finally. And for that, God blessed me the following Thanksgiving with twins and my year had quite literally gone the full circle of life. My Thanksgiving babies...all three of them, share a piece of my heart and always will, along with my oldest baby. Grace is remembered most at Christmas now, with an ornament thoughtfully and lovingly placed on our tree every year....
Today I was reminded of my sweet Grace-angel. Now she lives here too, forever.
I love you my Grace.
Love, Mommy xo
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)