Archives for May 2008


Do you know that right now I have two baby announcements sitting in my in-box? One was born yesterday and the other one will arrive some time today. Both of the e-mails had pictures, which I love, but it also strikes a little cord with me.

All of those “first” pictures show the women in their hospital beds with their babies. You see dads standing nearby and maybe even machines or medical equipment. There’s talk of labor and pushing and epidurals.

I can’t help but wonder if I’m a just a little damaged because I can’t make myself view these moments as happy times. Yes, babies are a good thing–I’m not talking about that. It’s just that for me, the birth process was extremely traumatic. There was no happy running to the hospital, no eager anticipation. Instead we had fear. I actually cried right after I delivered Charlie and they weren’t tears of joy. They didn’t even let me see him–I got a glimpse of a blue-ish foot before they whisked him away. Later, I had my husband go take a picture of him at Children’s Hospital so I could see what he looked like.

So, I want to be happy for people, and I am happy for them. I just can’t help feeling a rock in my stomach as the big day looms near.

I plan on having at least one more child (maybe two), so I don’t know what this means for me. Will I spend my next pregnancy on pins and needles? Will I be able to enjoy it, or will it be nine months of stress? My husband has suggested that maybe it can be a time of healing for the both of us. I sure hope so.

Here’s a picture of me at the end of my pregnancy.

A Moment

Today is Charlotte’s birthday. If you’re the type, please take a moment and say a prayer for her family. I have no doubt that this is an extremely tough day for them.


Let me apologize for the blurry image. Buster wasn’t really feeling like a photo shoot today. Today, he got hit by a car in front of my house. Thankfully, he seems to be doing well, but we did have to spend a couple of hours at the after-hours emergency place.

The after-hours emergency place is possibly the worst place in the world. It’s not just the sick animals, it’s the dogs being put down, the people crying, and the bits and scraps of humanity who show up. Two women showed up with a flea-infested Pomeranian who wasn’t acting herself. They had only fifty dollars and were arguing because the up-front payment is eighty-two. Ugh. I would hate to have to argue with people about whether or not you could treat their animal, but I guess that’s the business they’re in.

Buster is home. He has no broken bones, but he did damage some teeth. We have to go see our regular vet in two days to see if any of them need to be removed. In the mean time, we just need to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t show any sign of fluid on the lungs. The people from the vet are going to think that I just let my animals run free and wild. This time, however, it’s all the Hubby–I wasn’t even outside when it happened. I’ve had Max for over six years and Buster for over five and I have never had this many problems in such a short span of time.

In other news, Charlie’s physical therapy evaluation went well. She didn’t go over every specific with me, but seemed pleased that he grabs things with his right hand (new trick), and puts weight through his legs. This is actually a brand-new pediatric clinic and she is still getting it off the ground, so I didn’t get a real good idea about what things will be like. She is nice, though, and I think we’ll like working with her. She set an immediate goal of independent sitting within three months, an intermediate goal of getting in the crawl position, and a long-term goal of pulling to a stand. This is the second time someone has mentioned pulling to a stand, so I’m going to have to get together some strategies for that one. She’d like to see Charlie once a week minimum.

Movin’ right along!

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