"I'm sorry" just doesn't feel like enough

My dear son,

I have tried to write this countless times. Yet, each time I try to write, there are truly no words to express this profound guilt I carry with me. Each time, I'd maybe muster a few sentences, but it always fell short.

The words, "I'm sorry" simply do not feel like it's enough. I don't feel like there's anything I can say that will help make up for what I've done.

When you were born, you were perfect. Not that you're any less perfect now, there was just no true need for what we did. And after nearly losing you while pregnant, I can't believe I chose to put you at risk for losing you again.

I had chosen to have you circumcised. When I learned what it truly was when you were 9 months old, I cried the hardest I've cried in a long time. I cried every day for weeks. Three years later I still cry about it, but not as frequently. But there isn't a day that goes by where I don't hate myself for the decision I made.

Every day I live in fear that you will grow up to hate me for taking away your right to choose. It is your body. It was not my right to decide for you.

I am angry at myself. I wouldn't circumcise my daughters - I won't even pierce their ears. I don't like anyone else telling me what I should do with my body...Why would I be such a hypocrite?

As a mother, it is my duty to protect you, and I willingly let someone cut off a part of your body. I feel like I've failed you. I feel like I've failed as a mother. I am eternally sorry. 

From the time that you were 4 months old, you wouldn't allow anyone to clean you there. You would cry out in pain and writhe away, and I know this is my fault.

I should have done more research myself. I wish I wouldn't have let myself feel overwhelmed at all the info out there. I had hoped that the nurses would have been able to provide better information, considering...you know...they had seen it everyday. But she had minimized the procedure. I asked that they use some sort of anesthetic, but they brought you back screaming, and I knew they did not.

I was always unsure about it. I should have trusted my instinct.

And with the new baby on the way, a new fear has arisen. If it's a boy, I have already decided not to. I had made that decision a long time ago, actually. However, I worry that as the two of you grow, you will resent the fact that he was left intact and you were not.

I can only hope, that if you are upset with our decision, that you can forgive me.

Disclaimer: This was a very difficult post to write. I'd rather not have to deal with inconsiderate comments.

Linking this post up with Shell's P.Y.H.O. 

P.Y.H.O. Facebook Idiots

If my memory serves me correctly, I seem to remember seeing something about how most people are annoyed by their friends on Facebook.

I am often the annoyed, but usually I can just shrug it off. I actually left Facebook for a bit because I was so pregnantly hormonal and couldn't tolerate it. I felt like the idiots were taking over.

I've since returned and have gotten past my bitchiness. Well. Mostly. There's still one thing I cannot stand.

Parents who won't shut up about all the weed they smoked, alcohol they drank, and ass they scored. I find it...disturbing. They will literally go from one post touting their love for their kid(s) to five minutes later (or less) talking about one of the aforementioned subjects in gross detail. And usually, these sort of updates are daily...

Now, don't go thinking it's jealousy talking... I have had my fair share of fun, and still do. Frankly, I don't care what people do. But, I also don't care to hear constant updates about it. Nor do I think most people want to. You're really not that interesting. Not saying I'm that interesting either. I just feel like certain things should be kept separate from our kids. Whether they're going to read it or not. Kids and crassly discussing drugs/sex do not belong in close proximity to each other.

Just stating my opinion...

P.Y.H.O. - "New" mom fears and random babble

We're moving in four or five days. There's still so much work to be done, but I can't get much done with three kids. Or anything. In fact, I'm lucky to keep the house clean by the end of the day.

The youngest, I lovingly call Bratosaurus, wants attention constantly. And if she doesn't get it, she will let you know she's not happy. She's 15 months, going on three. She hasn't been sleeping well lately. I think, because of her teeth. She hasn't been falling asleep until between 10:00 and 12:00, and must fall asleep next to me. We have a couch pushed up next to our bed that she sleeps on, but insists on laying on top of me in order to fall asleep.

I'm really worried about how I'll fare on my own once the new baby comes. When she's in a good mood, she's the sweetest, cutest thing ever. But if not, she pulls hair, swats at you, throws things, and screams loud and high enough to break glass.Ok, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but I'm sure she's close to actually doing so. Nighttime is not the right time here. Trying to cook dinner, clean up, and get everyone in bed (and keep them there) has been very stressful here lately. She's usually very cranky by 8:00. And lately, she cries non-stop unless you're rocking her or laying down and constantly rubbing her belly, back, or forehead. But you have to find what she wants otherwise she'll keep crying.

She's a very determined baby. She takes after me too much. She even  says "oooh" when she's mad. I can't put a baby gate at the bottom of the stairs since the window goes into the stairwell about two and an half steps in. So I have two chairs laying on their side in an L-shape, a box, her wooden highchair, and a hamper full of clothes all Tetris-ized to barricade the way. Did it stop her? No. She squeezed her way in, pushed the hamper and high chair with her butt until she could sit down and use her legs to push herself and everything back. Pulled out each chair, and then climbed up the stairs to play with her brother and sister. It didn't take her long at all. Less than a minute. Should I have stopped her? Yes, but I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

She also likes to flop around, like a whale in water. Except, she's on land and on top of whoever. Or she'll crawl around all over me. I'm really worried about this once the new baby comes. I know there's going to be lots of breastfeeding (I'm hoping not, but my boobs don't work like they should), and she can't be doing that. I'm trying to stop all this, but like I said, she's a very determined child.

I know a sling a will come in handy once the baby's born, but I can't use it all the time. And I'm seeing her become extra clingy with all this packing, it's going to happen again once the baby arrives. I'm not too worried about her hurting the baby. Well, sort of. But I know she's super sweet in general...unless she wants something.

I am genuinely worried about my sanity. Still... Even this past weekend, while my husband was home, it was still pretty much all me taking care of the kids. Every Tuesday night I have broken down in tears. How on Earth am I going to manage four kids?? I will get some help while living with my in-laws, but I'm not sticking it all (or even a fourth) of it on them.

Don't be fooled by the cuteness!

I will be a "single" mom for as long as he works there. Because even with his time here, it's more like hired help. The only time I'll really get to see him is his one week vacation that he'll get in 2013. And if he decides to work Saturdays, he may as well not even exist. The pay will be really good, but I'm questioning is it all worth it? Now, I have to get my license, which is a whole other post itself...

My apologies for this post having little continuity...but it's a good example of how my mind's been lately. lol.











Brought to you courtesy of Shell.

P.Y.H.O. - Stressed and Scared

Yesterday was not a good day. It started out decent enough, but things started to unravel about the time my husband left for work and my eldest came home (he leaves about 30 minutes before her bus gets here).

• I tried to get dinner started at 4:00, but the stupid garlic bread was frozen together and I had to wait for it to thaw. 
• I figured while we were waiting, the kids could help me clean the kitchen and do the dishes. They just made a mess of the water and wasted the soap. 
• I messed up my spaghetti. How do I mess up my spaghetti?! I know I'm not a bad cook, yet for the last two nights, I've completely mucked up dinner. 
• I tried giving all the kids a bath last night. Put the baby in first, then put the eldest in, told her to wash up and that included her hair, came back downstairs, went into the basement to get my eldest daughter some clothes. I forgot I left my plate out. The baby got into it. Washed the baby again.
• Dia didn't wash her hair. Told her to get back in the tub. She washed her hair with the homemade bar soap. I got upset, because I know she knows how and what to wash her hair with. She says she's stupid. I stop to talk with her. 
• I still need to wash clothes because some twat colored on Dia's school pants with a hot pink marker. The girl was a lot bigger than her, too, I guess. I'm pretty pissed off...
• Gathered some laundry together. Came back upstairs, the baby got into the kids' spaghetti. I told them to take care of it earlier. By this point I'm beyond sick and tired of repeating myself. 
• By 9:30ish I get the kids in bed. But of course, they can't get a long. Make several trips upstairs. 
• Kids' DVD player in their TV broke. 
• All I want to do is go to sleep, but can't because of the stupid laundry. Remind myself that the kids need clothes and my husband needs new work boots (even though we just bought him a pair) and some gel inserts.
• Discover my bra is broke. You're kidding me?! I can't afford a new one right now! Break down crying. 

I'm scared. I don't know how I'm going to manage all this by myself. Every day. All day. Is every day going to be like this?

I know I just need to find a balance, but I've been working on that for over a year now. How am I going to manage four kids? A special needs child, a son who I'm pretty sure has ADHD, a toddler who's very attached to Mommy, and a baby...And I don't know how the baby's going to "turn out". I worry because it reminds me of my pregnancy with my eldest (the one with Asperger's).

Every night I hurt. I'm only 19 weeks and I feel like I'm about 30 weeks. My ribs feel like they're turning inside out, my pubic bone is incredibly sore by the end of the day, and throughout the day my hip just gives out whenever it feels like it. My kids just want to play and I'm getting to the point where I can't. Well, I can, I will just be hating life. 

And with Dia's teacher coming for a visit, I am struggling to get ahead with cleaning. And I still need to pack for the move. I'm scared we're not going to be ready. 

And I already miss my husband. I miss talking to him, even if it was about stuff I could care less about. I miss sleeping next to him. Sometimes, his snoring is what put me to sleep (as long as it wasn't loud). I'm already so lonely, it's not even silly. I'm not a needy person, but my husband is my best - and pretty much my only - friend. I don't drive, so it's not like I can go visit someone, or even go to the store. I'm scared this job driving my husband and I apart.

I'm scared of slipping into a depression I can't climb out of.  

P.Y.H.O. - My source of strength

As messed up and uncertain things may be at the moment, feeling these little baby kicks and seeing my children's smiling faces make it all better. Granted this is not what I want for them, but they're the reason why I continue on.

Ten years ago, I was the last person you'd imagine with 3 (4) kids and loving every minute of it. Well, most...not fond of cleaning up poop from the furniture. I was reckless. I was homeless. I didn't date due to a previous horrible relationship, and when I finally did, they'd maybe last three months. Even I didn't think I was going to have kids - and if so, just one.

Then I met my husband and it all changed.

Things have been rough for us for most of the time. I have struggled with depression since I was very, very young. I used to write, but no longer could. It's through these times when I've relied on my children as my source of strength.

In those dark moments when I'd allow my depression to take hold of me, I would think about my kids. I would think about how their life would be without me, and I found the strength to push through it.

I think about that sparkle in their eyes when they smile or laugh. I utterly adore their laugh.

I think about their tiny hands in mine, even if they're trying to squirm away.

I remember back to the day they were born. Even if I was terrified and unsure of how I'd fare as a mother...

I recall how my heart beamed at their first steps, first words, and first times they danced.

I love our silly conversations. I look forward to more.

I love discovering  and watching their interests grow. Even if I don't understand them or find them annoying.

I love the expressions they make and the silly things they do. I would rather watch them than tv.

I never imagined that someone so tiny could have such an impact on me.

Sure, I may be considered "boring" now. Sure, I may annoy you with how much I talk about my kids.  Yes, I do miss "me" and I'm struggling to find that person I once knew. But, my kids have literally saved my life. And when all hope seems gone, I look to them and know this is not true.

P.Y.H.O - Finding the silver lining

Having had some time to come to terms with yesterday's post (well, the other day now), we've found some good in my husband losing his job. Granted, this means we have to move while I'm pregnant, into my in-laws', and find a caretaker for our cat (I refuse to give her up). I'm concerned about my daughter being able to attend her school...I'm concerned if I will be able to give birth at the birthing center...but I think this will all turn out.

Contains mild language

P.Y.H.O. - Writing for Therapy

I am not one who finds it easy to talk about my feelings. Not the superficials of health, music, etc. I'm talking about deep feelings. The things that have affected me profoundly; the things I'll probably carry with me for years or even the rest of my life. It just doesn't come natural to me. I will generally avoid it at all costs or minimalize it when forced to confront them. I'll shove it aside in an effort to placate what few relationships I have left.

Is it to save them? Us? Myself?

I haven't figured it out yet.

Instead, I write. I used to keep journals of these hidden feelings. Sometimes scrawled in rage and frequently tear-stained. Once I got married, I stopped for fear of my husband finding them. A lot of changes happened within the first two years of our relationship; we moved around a ton and our first child was born. Most of my notebooks are stashed away in a garage. The few I started up again frequently got commandeered by my children. Scribbles of trees and my children's names replaced the tear soaked feelings that quite often consumed my teen years.

I stopped writing. Almost all of my poems are gone. I used to be really good at it. I still struggle to get back that creativity I prized so much. It was my release...my therapy.

While I love looking back at my children's early drawings, I still miss mine.

Which is why I turned to blogging. I can finally start writing again without worry of Kool-Aid stains or it getting lost.But, I am still struggling to recapture my voice. I still cannot get that same feeling of release as I once did.

Which is why I'm thankful for your blogs and memes such as Pour You Heart Out (courtesy of Things I Can't Say). As you may or may not know, this pregnancy has had me hermitting myself away, isolating myself from what few relationships I have left. However, in my isolation, I have begun to confront feelings I thought had been resolved, but usually remained dormant. In one blog of note, Lost and Forgotten, I have made some profound breakthroughs (in the comments, I posted as Mea F (@Mme_Guillotine). I thought I had completely come to terms with things...Other blogs, like My Mad Mind and Names Will Not Be Changed to Protect the Innocent have helped mein ways I cannot begin to count. And others still, like Elohssanatahw and Boobies, Babies and a Blog (among countless others) have given me a good laugh when I've needed it.

Yet frequently, I will start to comment on your posts, but delete them for fear of it being misinterpreted in a multitude of ways (in meaning, in intention, etc.).

While we may never meet, nor will I ever be able to pick you out in a crowd, and you may or may not see this...Thank you. Even if I haven't mentioned you, or have yet to discover your blog, your writing has more influence than you know...

I am all, I am nothing (Pour Your Heart Out)

I think I'm going to start participating in another meme since there's some things I want to get off my chest. This one's hosted by the mind behind Things I Can't Say. I've read her blog before, a long time ago, but apparently, am not a subscribed reader. I thought I was...