I have read more blogs then I can remember that at one time include a post stating "I promise to blog more often." Or something to that effect, I may be paraphrasing here. It demands a real commitment that is not obvious. Finding the time to blog, especially Mommy Bloggers, is difficult, because let's face it, life happens and it happens fast. And when you are a Mommy the days may be long, but they are busy. Even blogs created with the best intentions of updating and keeping in touch with friends and family, can sit idle for months.
Then there are the critics. Those who will read your blog because they have nothing else to do but tell you how much you've done wrong, or how you can do things better, or just that you are an awful person, just because they say so. People who can hide behind anonymity and apathy. Never mind that no one is forcing them to read your blog, they have an opinion on it and dammit you're going to hear it.
And the humility it takes to pour your life onto the page of a public forum is one of the biggest sacrifices I think bloggers make. When you are putting your whole life out there for the world to read, it's putting a piece of yourself. As bloggers we share the good, the bad and the ugly. And sometimes it gets ugly. Sure we may edit our spelling, but a lot of the time blogs are raw. That is the point. To share with honesty. Sometimes it's to vent. Sometimes it's to educate or seek help. It may even be to preach. Whatever the goal of the blog, you are most likely to be reading the honest thoughts/rants of the writer. To me that is what makes them interesting.
My blog was created for many reasons. It's a diary of sorts. Somewhere I could come and ramble on about the struggles of getting married, become a wife (which are two different things entirely, but I digress), adapting to life "in the Army", packing up and moving 860 miles away, having a baby, and all the while figuring out how to still be me while I'm at it. When I read other blogs I feel a kinship with the author, knowing the struggle it may have been to be able to sit in front of a computer long enough to jot down a compete thought let alone an entire post. And I hope that one day, my blog will actually DO something. Maybe someone will read it and be inspired to start their own. Or maybe a newlywed military spouse will stumble upon it and have some questions answered. Maybe it will connect me to others in the blogging world. Or even the real world. But no matter what it does or doesn't do, it's a part of me, and a part that keeps me from losing myself in all the other "titles" I hold. Because I will always be able to write, no matter what role I take on.
03 January 2011
02 November 2010
I Once Was Lost...
I hadn't been blogging. Not here, not on my family blog, not anywhere. There was a time where even my Facebook statuses were rarely updated. I didn't feel up to sharing. I got up, I took care of my baby, I cleaned, I cooked, I went to bed and started all over again. I occasionally fought with my husband.
And then came the much needed breath of fresh air. My husband suggested a mini-vacation to California. Ah beautiful California. Home of all my favorite things. The beach, my family and friends, and Disneyland. I needed so badly to see my family and the places I love. The state that I called home for my entire single life. The place I met and fell in love with my husband.
So we packed up the car, strapped the stroller to the roof and hit the road. We weren't on the 101, but I had the strong desire to sing "Californiaaaaaaaaaaaaa, here we cooooooooooooooome" at the top of my lungs. We left Thursday morning and after a one night pit-stop in Northern California, we made it to Monterey on Friday afternoon. It seemed quite fitting that my husband and I would be celebrating our 1 Year Wedding Anniversary in the place where we met and began our relationship. It was nothing crazy, but it was perfect for us. We attended a friend's wedding in the afternoon (yes, on our anniversary) and had dinner at one of our favorite restaurants on Cannery Row. Then a couple drinks at the British Pub we once frequented and then back home to relieve Memaw of babysitting duties. Perfect.
Hubby had to fly home that Monday to get back to work, but Livy and I were able to stay about another week and a half. It gave us time to visit with our family, and meet all the people who are so important to me and that I miss so much. Growing up my cousins were like sisters and my aunts were like friends. It is these people that make it so hard to be away from California, cause the distance keeps me from them as well.
We've been back for two weeks now, and we're still not "back to normal." I haven't unpacked everything, our routines are off, and until tonight I had only done laundry for Olivia. We're slowly but surely getting back on track. And with this renewed sense of calm that came from visiting home, comes my renewed sense of "Hooah!" I realize more than ever not just what I have given up to be a Soldier's Wife, but what my Soldier has given up for his country. I am proud to pick up his boots, and wash his ACU's and hang his awards on our walls. Because it may be a crazy life, and it may be a rough life, but it is OUR life. And we are an Army of 3.
Hooah!!
And then came the much needed breath of fresh air. My husband suggested a mini-vacation to California. Ah beautiful California. Home of all my favorite things. The beach, my family and friends, and Disneyland. I needed so badly to see my family and the places I love. The state that I called home for my entire single life. The place I met and fell in love with my husband.
So we packed up the car, strapped the stroller to the roof and hit the road. We weren't on the 101, but I had the strong desire to sing "Californiaaaaaaaaaaaaa, here we cooooooooooooooome" at the top of my lungs. We left Thursday morning and after a one night pit-stop in Northern California, we made it to Monterey on Friday afternoon. It seemed quite fitting that my husband and I would be celebrating our 1 Year Wedding Anniversary in the place where we met and began our relationship. It was nothing crazy, but it was perfect for us. We attended a friend's wedding in the afternoon (yes, on our anniversary) and had dinner at one of our favorite restaurants on Cannery Row. Then a couple drinks at the British Pub we once frequented and then back home to relieve Memaw of babysitting duties. Perfect.
Hubby had to fly home that Monday to get back to work, but Livy and I were able to stay about another week and a half. It gave us time to visit with our family, and meet all the people who are so important to me and that I miss so much. Growing up my cousins were like sisters and my aunts were like friends. It is these people that make it so hard to be away from California, cause the distance keeps me from them as well.
We've been back for two weeks now, and we're still not "back to normal." I haven't unpacked everything, our routines are off, and until tonight I had only done laundry for Olivia. We're slowly but surely getting back on track. And with this renewed sense of calm that came from visiting home, comes my renewed sense of "Hooah!" I realize more than ever not just what I have given up to be a Soldier's Wife, but what my Soldier has given up for his country. I am proud to pick up his boots, and wash his ACU's and hang his awards on our walls. Because it may be a crazy life, and it may be a rough life, but it is OUR life. And we are an Army of 3.
Hooah!!
Blog Love
A fellow Mommy Blogger has this awesome giveaway featured on her blog right now:
Follow her for occasional giveaways, I think she has one more coming up this month!
Follow her for occasional giveaways, I think she has one more coming up this month!
12 August 2010
3 Months
The last time I blogged here was when my darling daughter was 3 weeks old. And I couldn't believe it. And I haven't sat in front of this computer screen for the purpose of updating this blog until now. She is 3 months old today. I'm amazed at all the little things that have come with being a Mommy. How you know without a doubt that you will forever remember the exact date and time your child was born, how much they weighed and how long they were. But you can't remember what you had for dinner last Tuesday. How you know exactly how it feels when they finally fall asleep, because the little body in your arms becomes a little heavier. But you can't remember what it was like to go to sleep when you wanted, for as long as you wanted, without thinking about schedules and feeding times.
My life now revolves around a smaller life. A better life, I hope. I think that no matter how our lives turn out, we always want better for our kids. I wouldn't change a thing about the way I've lived my life, or where it has brought me. But I hope and pray that my daughter won't have to make the same mistakes to find the same kind of happiness.
I can't help but marvel at the little person she is. How she smiles every morning when she finally "wakes up" and realizes Mommy is holding her. How her face lights up when Daddy comes home, and it's like she all of a sudden realizes that she missed him. How she recently found her thumb, but sometimes still loses it. They way she tries to sing along when I sing her songs. The way she starts to talk, and gets angry when no one is talking back. That big, gummy smile.
I try to soak up as much of her as I can every day. I know she is not going anywhere, but these days of itty bitty baby are ending all too soon. I don't want to lose these days where everything is so simple. I don't want her to grow up. Even though I remind myself that with growing up comes getting to see her become a lovely little lady, I can't help but be a little sad about the tiny baby she used to be and is no longer. And she's only 3 months old!!! By the time she starts school, I think I will be a wreck. I have to remember that it is also exciting to see the "growing up stuff" too. To find out what she will be interested in. To see what abilities she will excel at. And to help her and be a part of it. I see a lot of me in her right now, and I think I'm scared and excited to see if she continues on that path. My wonderful mother was more than just a mom, she was my best friend. And I'm scared to death that I won't have the same kind of relationship with my daughter. What if she doesn't like me? What if she never trusts me? What can I do to prevent that? Is there anything? Or do you I just have to step back and let the pieces fall into their pre-determined spaces, and accept whatever picture they make?
For now, I will sing her songs and watch her smile. I will pick her up when she starts to cry. I will hand her to Daddy when he walks through the door. Because right now, that's how I can make her happy.
<3
My life now revolves around a smaller life. A better life, I hope. I think that no matter how our lives turn out, we always want better for our kids. I wouldn't change a thing about the way I've lived my life, or where it has brought me. But I hope and pray that my daughter won't have to make the same mistakes to find the same kind of happiness.
I can't help but marvel at the little person she is. How she smiles every morning when she finally "wakes up" and realizes Mommy is holding her. How her face lights up when Daddy comes home, and it's like she all of a sudden realizes that she missed him. How she recently found her thumb, but sometimes still loses it. They way she tries to sing along when I sing her songs. The way she starts to talk, and gets angry when no one is talking back. That big, gummy smile.
I try to soak up as much of her as I can every day. I know she is not going anywhere, but these days of itty bitty baby are ending all too soon. I don't want to lose these days where everything is so simple. I don't want her to grow up. Even though I remind myself that with growing up comes getting to see her become a lovely little lady, I can't help but be a little sad about the tiny baby she used to be and is no longer. And she's only 3 months old!!! By the time she starts school, I think I will be a wreck. I have to remember that it is also exciting to see the "growing up stuff" too. To find out what she will be interested in. To see what abilities she will excel at. And to help her and be a part of it. I see a lot of me in her right now, and I think I'm scared and excited to see if she continues on that path. My wonderful mother was more than just a mom, she was my best friend. And I'm scared to death that I won't have the same kind of relationship with my daughter. What if she doesn't like me? What if she never trusts me? What can I do to prevent that? Is there anything? Or do you I just have to step back and let the pieces fall into their pre-determined spaces, and accept whatever picture they make?
For now, I will sing her songs and watch her smile. I will pick her up when she starts to cry. I will hand her to Daddy when he walks through the door. Because right now, that's how I can make her happy.
<3
02 June 2010
3 Weeks Old
Already?? I can't believe that three weeks have gone by since little Olivia came into our world. Today is the first day that her and I have been home alone. My Mum and Dad had been here the first week we were home. In between visitors Pat was home with us on Paternity Leave. He went back to work yesterday and his mom flew back to Texas this morning. It's been pretty quiet. I feel like she's nursing more than usual, but we're doing ok. I even finished loading the dishwasher and got it running. I feel very accomplished for a new mommy. And I can't help but wonder...what did I do before this little girl was here?!
I can't even remember or imagine what life was like before Olivia. I still have all the memories of working and going out with my friends. But now that she's here, it seems like she was always meant to be. As scared as I was when I found out that I was becoming a mommy, this feels right. Even when she's crying and breaking my heart and I can't quite figure out how to comfort her, I know that it's right where I am supposed to be. We've all got to walk before we run, and right now I'm lying right next to Olivia, flailing my arms and legs, but I am confident that I will soon be off and running with that precious little baby on my hip the whole way.
I can't even remember or imagine what life was like before Olivia. I still have all the memories of working and going out with my friends. But now that she's here, it seems like she was always meant to be. As scared as I was when I found out that I was becoming a mommy, this feels right. Even when she's crying and breaking my heart and I can't quite figure out how to comfort her, I know that it's right where I am supposed to be. We've all got to walk before we run, and right now I'm lying right next to Olivia, flailing my arms and legs, but I am confident that I will soon be off and running with that precious little baby on my hip the whole way.
01 June 2010
The Story of Olivia
Olivia Genevieve
Born: May 12, 2010
17:01
6 lbs, 12 oz
20 inches
I woke up on Wednesday morning as Pat's alarm was getting him up for PT. My stomach felt a little crampy, but it was early and I was tired and told him, "my belly hurts" as I rolled over and went back to sleep. A little before 7:00 I woke up again and could now feel contractions lasting only about 30 seconds but about 2-4 minutes apart. I called Pat and he was pulling in the driveway. He was going to jump in the shower while I finished getting things ready, but we soon realized we needed to take off right away.
We got to the hospital and contractions stayed consistent while the nurses asked me questions and got me into a bed and hooked up to the external fetal monitors. When they came to do my exam I hadn’t made much progress but they didn’t want to send me away, because my contractions were steady and I was in pain. They swept my membranes and asked me to sip some water and nibble on some crackers. When they checked again I had progressed to 4cm so they admitted me. I must have looked like I was in a lot of pain because they didn’t even ask me to walk to a LDR room, they just wheeled me over in the bed I was already in and transferred me when we got there!
That’s when I heard the words no weakling wants to hear....”We can’t give you the epidural yet because our anesthesiologists are in the OR.” Oh goody. So they offered to get the tub ready, so I could try to get a little more comfortable while we waited. But the anesthesiologists came to my room less than 10 minutes later, so we were able to cancel the bath and they began prepping me for the epidural. After that, I was finally able to breathe! My nurse said it was good to see me smile.
My contractions were strong and steady and when they checked me again I was still at 4cm. They decided to rupture my bag of water in the hopes that it would help move things along. When the bag broke there was meconium in the fluid, and later on when more fluid was released there was meconium in there as well, so they were keeping an eye on that. They switched to an internal monitor and administered Pitocin to try to stimulate dilation, and they gave the baby a “saline bath”. The baby’s heart rate began to drop after every contraction so they came and talked to me about the possibility of a c-section. When they checked me again I still had not dilated any more than 4cm and the baby continued to have an unsteady heart rate. So they decided it was time to get me ready for the OR.
After that things moved pretty fast. They brought the anesthesiologist back in, gave Pat a pair of scrubs and rolled me away. Once in the OR they got me moved onto the table and put a screen up. When I was all ready to go they brought Pat back in and went to work. At 5:01pm Olivia Genevieve was born. And my world stopped for just a moment.
I heard them tell us “It’s a girl” and I felt a a joy run through me that I never thought possible. I was over the moon happy as I looked into my husbands eyes and waited to hear my baby girl cry. And I waited. And I waited. Sweet little baby Olivia was here with us, but she was having trouble breathing on her own. They began resuscitation procedures on her. And I waited. Almost three minutes after that little girl came into this world I heard the most beautiful sound a mother can hear...her baby crying. They put her in an incubator and took her to NICU as a precaution to monitor her breathing. I told Pat to go with her while I was cleaned up. He met me back in the LDR room to tell me that Olivia was breathing on her own and doing better already. By the time they took me to my postpartum room I had already been updated that she was awake and looking around, breathing on her own and that she probably wouldn’t have to stay overnight in the NICU. I got to see her as they wheeled me to my room and she was perfect. I made two trips to the NICU to breastfeed and by midnight that night Baby Olivia was released from NICU, and was right where she belonged, with Mommy and Daddy.
Born: May 12, 2010
17:01
6 lbs, 12 oz
20 inches
I woke up on Wednesday morning as Pat's alarm was getting him up for PT. My stomach felt a little crampy, but it was early and I was tired and told him, "my belly hurts" as I rolled over and went back to sleep. A little before 7:00 I woke up again and could now feel contractions lasting only about 30 seconds but about 2-4 minutes apart. I called Pat and he was pulling in the driveway. He was going to jump in the shower while I finished getting things ready, but we soon realized we needed to take off right away.
We got to the hospital and contractions stayed consistent while the nurses asked me questions and got me into a bed and hooked up to the external fetal monitors. When they came to do my exam I hadn’t made much progress but they didn’t want to send me away, because my contractions were steady and I was in pain. They swept my membranes and asked me to sip some water and nibble on some crackers. When they checked again I had progressed to 4cm so they admitted me. I must have looked like I was in a lot of pain because they didn’t even ask me to walk to a LDR room, they just wheeled me over in the bed I was already in and transferred me when we got there!
That’s when I heard the words no weakling wants to hear....”We can’t give you the epidural yet because our anesthesiologists are in the OR.” Oh goody. So they offered to get the tub ready, so I could try to get a little more comfortable while we waited. But the anesthesiologists came to my room less than 10 minutes later, so we were able to cancel the bath and they began prepping me for the epidural. After that, I was finally able to breathe! My nurse said it was good to see me smile.
My contractions were strong and steady and when they checked me again I was still at 4cm. They decided to rupture my bag of water in the hopes that it would help move things along. When the bag broke there was meconium in the fluid, and later on when more fluid was released there was meconium in there as well, so they were keeping an eye on that. They switched to an internal monitor and administered Pitocin to try to stimulate dilation, and they gave the baby a “saline bath”. The baby’s heart rate began to drop after every contraction so they came and talked to me about the possibility of a c-section. When they checked me again I still had not dilated any more than 4cm and the baby continued to have an unsteady heart rate. So they decided it was time to get me ready for the OR.
After that things moved pretty fast. They brought the anesthesiologist back in, gave Pat a pair of scrubs and rolled me away. Once in the OR they got me moved onto the table and put a screen up. When I was all ready to go they brought Pat back in and went to work. At 5:01pm Olivia Genevieve was born. And my world stopped for just a moment.
I heard them tell us “It’s a girl” and I felt a a joy run through me that I never thought possible. I was over the moon happy as I looked into my husbands eyes and waited to hear my baby girl cry. And I waited. And I waited. Sweet little baby Olivia was here with us, but she was having trouble breathing on her own. They began resuscitation procedures on her. And I waited. Almost three minutes after that little girl came into this world I heard the most beautiful sound a mother can hear...her baby crying. They put her in an incubator and took her to NICU as a precaution to monitor her breathing. I told Pat to go with her while I was cleaned up. He met me back in the LDR room to tell me that Olivia was breathing on her own and doing better already. By the time they took me to my postpartum room I had already been updated that she was awake and looking around, breathing on her own and that she probably wouldn’t have to stay overnight in the NICU. I got to see her as they wheeled me to my room and she was perfect. I made two trips to the NICU to breastfeed and by midnight that night Baby Olivia was released from NICU, and was right where she belonged, with Mommy and Daddy.
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