I finally got some kind of answer about the boys' upper GIs. After waiting until Thursday to start my daily calls (after the appointment had been on Monday...), and getting "oh, I see you've already called" on Friday (ugh! Yes, I already called. But no one called me back. Do you not understand the I'm going to call til I get an answer thing? Cuz I'm sure I'm not the first Mom to try it!), I decided to try being a little sneaky on Monday. (You know, cuz it's not like I'd been waiting a whole week for some kind of answer...) Since the boys are four months on Friday (SOB!) I called the ped center to ask about feedings. When the nurse called me back (since they always answer for a question like that) I asked her if it would be ok to start cereal, since that's the age I had been reading online was the typical start time. She said it should be fine, then asked a few questions. When she asked if they spat up, I told her that we think they have acid reflux and are waiting for upper GI appointments. She said that they don't suggest starting cereal until that is figured out, because it can make it worse (which is weird, since they tell you to put cereal in their bottles...), and then said she would look into the appointments for me. When she called back a few hours later, she told me that she'd sent the referral to UMASS (a whole week and they hadn't even sent the referral yet!!! ARGH!) and to give them until the end of this week to contact me to make the appointment. So at least we're getting somewhere. I'm still beyond frustrated though. At least she gave me their number, so I can call them Friday. I just want to get the boys seen. I hate this.
So, a little sneakiness paid off. I don't care. I'll do what I have to to take care of my boys. Speaking of which, Monkey's getting fussy so I think he needs to eat. SUPER SHORT BLOOOOOOGGGG! Yeah... later.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Friday, May 20, 2011
"I'm not tossing the baby out with the bathwater here" "I've totally done that"
Again, it's been a while since I've posted. This time due more to stress than anything else. We've been having such issues with the boys. I took them to the doctor (since they've had this cold for well over a month, and all the issues we're having with feedings) and she gave us nebulizers to break up the congestion of the cold, and wants to make appointments for upper GIs to diagnose reflux in the babies. Due to my history of moderate to severe acid reflux, she's pretty sure that's what it is, but we have to wait for the tests in order to get any kind of medicine. As of right now, we don't even have a date on the appointment. I'm calling them every day until I get some kind of resolution. I don't even know what STATE the appointment will be in. They may send us out of state to one of the bigger hospitals. I'm just so upset, because they are having such problems. Ben nearly drove Darius to the ER the other day, because the boy was screaming in pain for so long. It's a fight to get them to eat, and yesterday they only had about 20 ounces. That's it. I've been told at this age the minimum they should be eating is 30. What am I supposed to do? If I try to feed them when they aren't crying for it, they will not eat. Even when they ARE crying for it, they don't eat much. I'm so frustrated. I worry about their brains developing properly, about their growth. If I can't get them to take at least 6 ounces before going to bed, they're up every hour. We have to keep going down and giving them their binkies. And they fall right back to sleep. So it's not even like we could feed them more. They'd just pass out in the first few sips.
I'm getting run down. My lungs started hurting again, I wake with a headache (today was migraine level pain) just about every day, I'm getting body aches - maybe from getting sick, or perhaps just how I'm sleeping. When I actually sleep, I fall so quickly into such a deep sleep that my body doesn't move. I'll usually turn over a few times during the night, which I think keeps my muscles a little loose. When I stay in the same position all night, I wake up feeling sore and hurt all day long. I've gotten to the point where I'm sleeping through them crying because I'm just that tired, and poor Ben jumps up to take care of them until he's so wiped he has to wake me. This morning he came to wake me up because Micah was at the point of hunger and not just fussy for a binky, and I was in so much pain from my headache, and it felt like I'd only slept a few hours. I truly thought it was midnight. I looked at the clock and saw it was 4:45 - normal wake up time for one of them. I'd slept all night, and it felt like I hadn't really slept at all. It was a bad morning. Mikey ate fine, but then was awake and just so babbly. All I wanted was for him to go back to bed so I could try to get a few more hours and hopefully be more awake/in less pain by the time I got up again. At 5:30, he was ready to go back to bed, so I got him down, laid down myself, and slept another one and a half hours. My headache is less, but still so very there, and both boys are currently napping again.
We've tried cereal in the bottles to help with the spit up/reflux, but then the problem was that the nipples would get clogged, and they would scream out of hunger and frustration. Ben bought cereal nipples, and they couldn't suck hard enough to get the Y-cut to open. Again, screams of hunger and frustration. No more cereal in the bottles, but they only have really bad spit up on occasion. They'll spit up almost every feeding, but it seems to be less (especially since they're on the soy - the doctor wants them to stay on soy for now). The biggest problem we have with them (especially at night - I read that GERD symptoms tend to be worse at night, joy) is the arching and pain cries. Ducky usually does the screaming, Mikey just arches so bad he nearly tosses himself out of your arms/the chair (he would if he wasn't strapped in), and doesn't want to eat. Infants with GERD either want to eat all the time (it soothes the pain as they're sucking) or very little (the food agitates the reflux). It seems like they go back and forth with it, but mostly don't want to eat. They're gaining weight ok, and I think that makes the doctor feel like it's a slight enough case that they can take their time with it. I'm sorry, but hearing my kids scream and watching them arch so much I wonder if they're going to snap in half is NOT something I can keep doing day after day! I know what it's like to have a fire in your chest. To be so hungry it starts the reflux, and then have it continue because you've eaten. They're just babies. They shouldn't have to suffer. I'm so upset, but I can't make them give me medicine. But I can call them day after day until they get so annoyed they give me the appointment. The boys need to be seen. I need to have them not be in pain all the time.
The weather is not helping. I want to take them outside on walks - get us all some fresh air and get me out of cabin fever mode. But the dreary, rainy, somewhat chilly weather keeps us homebound and I hate it. I hate being cooped up. Adding insult to injury, it just makes me antsy and, I feel, tends to make me get frustrated easier. I have no outlet except for complaining on facebook, and don't get me started on that. I hate feeling like all I do is tell the world I hate my children. I love them, but what we're going through is stressful and I don't know how to handle it. I honestly think that some of my FB friends think I hate my kids. I just need to get it out, for fear I'll explode otherwise. Maybe facebook isn't the best outlet, but I don't think feel like I have any other way.
This is just a phase. It will come to an end. I keep reminding myself that this will not last forever, even though it feels like it will sometimes. Eventually this will just be a memory. One day the boys won't scream every time they eat. ... One day...
I'm getting run down. My lungs started hurting again, I wake with a headache (today was migraine level pain) just about every day, I'm getting body aches - maybe from getting sick, or perhaps just how I'm sleeping. When I actually sleep, I fall so quickly into such a deep sleep that my body doesn't move. I'll usually turn over a few times during the night, which I think keeps my muscles a little loose. When I stay in the same position all night, I wake up feeling sore and hurt all day long. I've gotten to the point where I'm sleeping through them crying because I'm just that tired, and poor Ben jumps up to take care of them until he's so wiped he has to wake me. This morning he came to wake me up because Micah was at the point of hunger and not just fussy for a binky, and I was in so much pain from my headache, and it felt like I'd only slept a few hours. I truly thought it was midnight. I looked at the clock and saw it was 4:45 - normal wake up time for one of them. I'd slept all night, and it felt like I hadn't really slept at all. It was a bad morning. Mikey ate fine, but then was awake and just so babbly. All I wanted was for him to go back to bed so I could try to get a few more hours and hopefully be more awake/in less pain by the time I got up again. At 5:30, he was ready to go back to bed, so I got him down, laid down myself, and slept another one and a half hours. My headache is less, but still so very there, and both boys are currently napping again.
We've tried cereal in the bottles to help with the spit up/reflux, but then the problem was that the nipples would get clogged, and they would scream out of hunger and frustration. Ben bought cereal nipples, and they couldn't suck hard enough to get the Y-cut to open. Again, screams of hunger and frustration. No more cereal in the bottles, but they only have really bad spit up on occasion. They'll spit up almost every feeding, but it seems to be less (especially since they're on the soy - the doctor wants them to stay on soy for now). The biggest problem we have with them (especially at night - I read that GERD symptoms tend to be worse at night, joy) is the arching and pain cries. Ducky usually does the screaming, Mikey just arches so bad he nearly tosses himself out of your arms/the chair (he would if he wasn't strapped in), and doesn't want to eat. Infants with GERD either want to eat all the time (it soothes the pain as they're sucking) or very little (the food agitates the reflux). It seems like they go back and forth with it, but mostly don't want to eat. They're gaining weight ok, and I think that makes the doctor feel like it's a slight enough case that they can take their time with it. I'm sorry, but hearing my kids scream and watching them arch so much I wonder if they're going to snap in half is NOT something I can keep doing day after day! I know what it's like to have a fire in your chest. To be so hungry it starts the reflux, and then have it continue because you've eaten. They're just babies. They shouldn't have to suffer. I'm so upset, but I can't make them give me medicine. But I can call them day after day until they get so annoyed they give me the appointment. The boys need to be seen. I need to have them not be in pain all the time.
The weather is not helping. I want to take them outside on walks - get us all some fresh air and get me out of cabin fever mode. But the dreary, rainy, somewhat chilly weather keeps us homebound and I hate it. I hate being cooped up. Adding insult to injury, it just makes me antsy and, I feel, tends to make me get frustrated easier. I have no outlet except for complaining on facebook, and don't get me started on that. I hate feeling like all I do is tell the world I hate my children. I love them, but what we're going through is stressful and I don't know how to handle it. I honestly think that some of my FB friends think I hate my kids. I just need to get it out, for fear I'll explode otherwise. Maybe facebook isn't the best outlet, but I don't think feel like I have any other way.
This is just a phase. It will come to an end. I keep reminding myself that this will not last forever, even though it feels like it will sometimes. Eventually this will just be a memory. One day the boys won't scream every time they eat. ... One day...
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
God could not be everywhere and therefore He made mothers. ~Jewish Proverb
The boys are growing by leaps and bounds. Ben will often comment that he'll come home from work to find them different. They're doing wonderfully, but there is still so much that we are just learning.
On Saturday we started the boys on soy formula. After three weeks of unbelievably hungry babies who screamed through every nighttime feeding, we knew we had to try something different. At their 2 month appointment, we had told the doctor how gassy and spit uppy they were, and he suggested trying different formulas. But since we are on WIC, I told Ben we couldn't do that. So we went through many nights of screaming matches, stress, and some anger. Finally I asked Ben what he thought about trying soy. We figured, it can't hurt to try, right? So we tried soy Saturday night and for the first time, Micah drank a full 4 ounce bottle without a peep. Ben was so happy that he cried. (Talk about melting your heart. It brought tears to my eyes to see him like that) And, for the first time, Mikey took 8 ounces before finally falling asleep. We've had him on soy ever since. Darius we weren't so sure about. We thought that maybe he still needed regular but after Sunday where he was pretty grumpy, we've got him on soy too. They're still gassy and have spit up, but it seems to be less of an amount than they used to. I still might make a doctor's appointment for them, though. Not only are they STILL super congested, but they will spit up hours after eating. I'm not sure if that's normal...
Sunday was our first Mother's Day. It was also the first day that we put the boys in 3-6 month clothes (talk about an unhappy Mama. I was mad when they grew out of Newborn stuff!) Not only were they in matching outfits, but Ben and I had gotten shirts the same color as what they were going to wear. Yes, we did make sure to get a family picture. And, of course, Micah has to look minorly grumpy in the one where we look the best. It has to be someone, right? :P
Our first Mother's Day was pretty busy. We went to first service at church so that we could go to the nursing home to see my grandmother for noon. My parents bought Chinese food for everyone, so we had a nice lunch with her. After visiting with Grandma L, we went to my in-law's to have birthday cake. Ben's mom had made one for Jack, since he would have been 31. It was the first Mother's Day that fell on his birthday since his passing, and so it was a very difficult day for her. I truly hope that having some time with the babies managed to brighten it for her. Not only did Mikey tell her lots of stories, Duck Man fell asleep on Dad. And Grandma Joan got to snuggle the Monkey and make him laugh.
By the time we finally got home, I was wiped. Going to an earlier service made the day seem so much longer, but at least we got some time to ourselves at home.
Monday night the boys went to their Nonni and Pepe's house. Luckily, they were well behaved and slept really well for them. I always feel bad when they have a hard time. But everyone enjoyed their sleepover. And Mommy and Daddy enjoyed a night of uninterrupted sleep.
Yesterday was not the best of days. Well, it was good until the end. I went to MOPS, picked up the boys, went to buy formula, then had to exchange it (the WIC checks have to be used for the regular formula, since that's what they list, but luckily Wal*Mart will exchange regular for soy), got the boys home and fed them, then went on a walk with Auntie Cassie and Lillie. Once we got home from that, my car had to be taken to the mechanic for an oil change, and when Ben got home we had dinner. After that we were able to video chat with my mum for the first time! It was really nice to be able to see her.
Once that was all over, the trouble started. The boys had been napping, but when Micah woke up he was very unhappy. I started his bath, but he had been straining, so I checked his diaper to find he needed a change. Not surprising, since he hadn't pooped yet that day, and they usually go at least once. When I went to change him, he was screaming bloody murder. I laid him down, and it got even worse. For the first (and hopefully only) time, I saw some blood in his stool. I made Ben call the doctor while I changed him, and the poor thing screamed the whole time. He was still trying to go, but it just wasn't working. It was hard as a rock and very difficult for him to pass. I felt so bad, I nearly cried. But after getting a new diaper on, and picking him up, the crying stopped. In fact, once he got into the tub, he was downright cheerful (amazing how babies can bounce back, huh?). Ben was told by the doctor (or nurse, whoever called) that it could be from the change in diet, or even because we had been trying cereal (we gave it an attempt to try and get them to go longer that 2 hours in between feedings. Hasn't worked. Giving up on cereal for now), but that we could give them juice. 1 ounce per month old per day. So right now they can have up to 3 ounces per day. Apple and pear work best, so after putting the boys to bed, Ben went to the store to buy juice. I'll be trying it once they wake up. I hope that it helps (Ducky never pooped yesterday, so I'm nervous about him), because I can not go through that again. My poor little boy.
It's nearly 6, and neither one has woken up yet, though I've been hearing some fidgeting. They went to bed between 8:30 and 9 so I'm not surprised they're still sleeping. We may start putting them to bed later, if it will help them to sleep in. They'll be going to bed late tonight because we're going to try going to Mini Church again. I hope it works out. I really hate not going.
Time to go make coffee.......
On Saturday we started the boys on soy formula. After three weeks of unbelievably hungry babies who screamed through every nighttime feeding, we knew we had to try something different. At their 2 month appointment, we had told the doctor how gassy and spit uppy they were, and he suggested trying different formulas. But since we are on WIC, I told Ben we couldn't do that. So we went through many nights of screaming matches, stress, and some anger. Finally I asked Ben what he thought about trying soy. We figured, it can't hurt to try, right? So we tried soy Saturday night and for the first time, Micah drank a full 4 ounce bottle without a peep. Ben was so happy that he cried. (Talk about melting your heart. It brought tears to my eyes to see him like that) And, for the first time, Mikey took 8 ounces before finally falling asleep. We've had him on soy ever since. Darius we weren't so sure about. We thought that maybe he still needed regular but after Sunday where he was pretty grumpy, we've got him on soy too. They're still gassy and have spit up, but it seems to be less of an amount than they used to. I still might make a doctor's appointment for them, though. Not only are they STILL super congested, but they will spit up hours after eating. I'm not sure if that's normal...
Sunday was our first Mother's Day. It was also the first day that we put the boys in 3-6 month clothes (talk about an unhappy Mama. I was mad when they grew out of Newborn stuff!) Not only were they in matching outfits, but Ben and I had gotten shirts the same color as what they were going to wear. Yes, we did make sure to get a family picture. And, of course, Micah has to look minorly grumpy in the one where we look the best. It has to be someone, right? :P
Our first Mother's Day was pretty busy. We went to first service at church so that we could go to the nursing home to see my grandmother for noon. My parents bought Chinese food for everyone, so we had a nice lunch with her. After visiting with Grandma L, we went to my in-law's to have birthday cake. Ben's mom had made one for Jack, since he would have been 31. It was the first Mother's Day that fell on his birthday since his passing, and so it was a very difficult day for her. I truly hope that having some time with the babies managed to brighten it for her. Not only did Mikey tell her lots of stories, Duck Man fell asleep on Dad. And Grandma Joan got to snuggle the Monkey and make him laugh.
By the time we finally got home, I was wiped. Going to an earlier service made the day seem so much longer, but at least we got some time to ourselves at home.
Monday night the boys went to their Nonni and Pepe's house. Luckily, they were well behaved and slept really well for them. I always feel bad when they have a hard time. But everyone enjoyed their sleepover. And Mommy and Daddy enjoyed a night of uninterrupted sleep.
Yesterday was not the best of days. Well, it was good until the end. I went to MOPS, picked up the boys, went to buy formula, then had to exchange it (the WIC checks have to be used for the regular formula, since that's what they list, but luckily Wal*Mart will exchange regular for soy), got the boys home and fed them, then went on a walk with Auntie Cassie and Lillie. Once we got home from that, my car had to be taken to the mechanic for an oil change, and when Ben got home we had dinner. After that we were able to video chat with my mum for the first time! It was really nice to be able to see her.
Once that was all over, the trouble started. The boys had been napping, but when Micah woke up he was very unhappy. I started his bath, but he had been straining, so I checked his diaper to find he needed a change. Not surprising, since he hadn't pooped yet that day, and they usually go at least once. When I went to change him, he was screaming bloody murder. I laid him down, and it got even worse. For the first (and hopefully only) time, I saw some blood in his stool. I made Ben call the doctor while I changed him, and the poor thing screamed the whole time. He was still trying to go, but it just wasn't working. It was hard as a rock and very difficult for him to pass. I felt so bad, I nearly cried. But after getting a new diaper on, and picking him up, the crying stopped. In fact, once he got into the tub, he was downright cheerful (amazing how babies can bounce back, huh?). Ben was told by the doctor (or nurse, whoever called) that it could be from the change in diet, or even because we had been trying cereal (we gave it an attempt to try and get them to go longer that 2 hours in between feedings. Hasn't worked. Giving up on cereal for now), but that we could give them juice. 1 ounce per month old per day. So right now they can have up to 3 ounces per day. Apple and pear work best, so after putting the boys to bed, Ben went to the store to buy juice. I'll be trying it once they wake up. I hope that it helps (Ducky never pooped yesterday, so I'm nervous about him), because I can not go through that again. My poor little boy.
It's nearly 6, and neither one has woken up yet, though I've been hearing some fidgeting. They went to bed between 8:30 and 9 so I'm not surprised they're still sleeping. We may start putting them to bed later, if it will help them to sleep in. They'll be going to bed late tonight because we're going to try going to Mini Church again. I hope it works out. I really hate not going.
Time to go make coffee.......
Ever'body Like Parf- ... Cake
For those of you who used to follow my old blog, you'll know that I sometimes get a little lax in my blogging. Weeks tend to slip by unnoticed before I sit down to write again. What I can say about the past few weeks, however, is that this is not the case. I have been purposefully avoiding my blog, but not for the reason you might think.
This blog, while titled about my babes, is not for the sole purpose of my children. It's about my life, my thoughts, and whatever I feel like recording at the time. To be true to that purpose, I have to write about the first of this month. It's not going to be easy for me, and I might gloss over a few things, but it has to be done.
As most of you know, Ben's brother committed suicide on his birthday in 2007. It was the year he turned 27, and so is listed in the "27 Club" - a list of musicians who died at the age of 27. His birthday was May 8th, so it was on Mother's Day this year (more on that in my next blog). Even though I never met Jack, I took his loss hard - he was the one person I could call my brother and have it actually be true. I had been waiting to get married with excitement at finally having siblings. But by the time I met Ben, the man who was supposed to be my brother was already gone. I was angry, and had to grieve in my own way. One of the things I was most angry about was that I felt that Jack had stolen from my children. They will have plenty of aunts and uncles through our friends, but they will never have their one true uncle, or any cousins. It was very upsetting for me. I tell you this, so you can understand my state of mind for what happened May 1st.
My friend, Sam, took his own life.
We hadn't been close for quite some time, but years ago, Sam and I called each other sibling. He wasn't the typical super-close-awesome-guy-friend-so-I'll-call-you-my-brother kid. He was half super-close-awesome-guy-friend-so-I'll-call-you-my-brother kid and half I'm-going-to-bug-the-crap-out-of-you-just-like-a-REAL-little-brother kid. Sam and I had our ups and downs, but he was the type of person who no matter what he was going through, would drop everything and be there if you needed him. After his first suicide attempt, he was in the hospital and told to write down a list of people who were allowed to visit him. He wrote two names. One of them was mine. I immediately got in the car and went to see him. And once I got there, he just looked at me and asked, "How are you?" There he was in the hospital, and he was worried about me. Not only me, but some of the other patients. He met a little 9 year old anorexic girl, and convinced her to eat by promising to make her things. Half a donut? He made her a shrinky-dink. Sam spent his time recuperating by helping others. That was Sam. Also known as Sammycake, Sam My Cake, or just Cake.
One of the hardest things for Ben and I was the similarities between Jack and Sam. Both were musicians and artists. Both were addicted to drugs. Both would change their look about every 6 months (or so it would seem). In fact, every color that Jack dyed his hair, Sam had dyed his hair. Both went through the goth/punk eyeliner phase (there were pictures that looked exactly alike). Unfortunately, because Ben had gone through the loss of Jack, he was the perfect one to help me through my grieving for Sam. Everything I said, Ben understood without judgement. And, unfortunately, my loss of Sam made me better understand how Ben felt when he lost his brother. For the both of us, there had been a separation before hand. I had drifted apart from Sam, and not wanted to get closer because of his drug addiction (I couldn't put myself in that kind of relationship when my family was beginning), and Ben had pretty much given up on Jack because of his drug addiction. One major difference was that Sam was sober, and fighting to stay that way. The other is that Ben and I saw Sam two hours before it happened. Jack had been states away from his family.
One thing that is of a comfort to us is that we know we'll get to see them again. I don't believe that people who commit suicide aren't allowed into Heaven. My God would not make that one sin worse than any other. People who lie before being hit by a bus aren't any more likely to be kept from Heaven than those who commit adultery before having a heart attack. Sin is sin, and God looks at the heart. Jack and Sam made professions of faith at one point in their lives. I fully believe I will see them again.
Until then, every time I hear thunder, I'll think of Sam and Jack rockin' out in front of Jesus.
This blog, while titled about my babes, is not for the sole purpose of my children. It's about my life, my thoughts, and whatever I feel like recording at the time. To be true to that purpose, I have to write about the first of this month. It's not going to be easy for me, and I might gloss over a few things, but it has to be done.
As most of you know, Ben's brother committed suicide on his birthday in 2007. It was the year he turned 27, and so is listed in the "27 Club" - a list of musicians who died at the age of 27. His birthday was May 8th, so it was on Mother's Day this year (more on that in my next blog). Even though I never met Jack, I took his loss hard - he was the one person I could call my brother and have it actually be true. I had been waiting to get married with excitement at finally having siblings. But by the time I met Ben, the man who was supposed to be my brother was already gone. I was angry, and had to grieve in my own way. One of the things I was most angry about was that I felt that Jack had stolen from my children. They will have plenty of aunts and uncles through our friends, but they will never have their one true uncle, or any cousins. It was very upsetting for me. I tell you this, so you can understand my state of mind for what happened May 1st.
My friend, Sam, took his own life.
We hadn't been close for quite some time, but years ago, Sam and I called each other sibling. He wasn't the typical super-close-awesome-guy-friend-so-I'll-call-you-my-brother kid. He was half super-close-awesome-guy-friend-so-I'll-call-you-my-brother kid and half I'm-going-to-bug-the-crap-out-of-you-just-like-a-REAL-little-brother kid. Sam and I had our ups and downs, but he was the type of person who no matter what he was going through, would drop everything and be there if you needed him. After his first suicide attempt, he was in the hospital and told to write down a list of people who were allowed to visit him. He wrote two names. One of them was mine. I immediately got in the car and went to see him. And once I got there, he just looked at me and asked, "How are you?" There he was in the hospital, and he was worried about me. Not only me, but some of the other patients. He met a little 9 year old anorexic girl, and convinced her to eat by promising to make her things. Half a donut? He made her a shrinky-dink. Sam spent his time recuperating by helping others. That was Sam. Also known as Sammycake, Sam My Cake, or just Cake.
One of the hardest things for Ben and I was the similarities between Jack and Sam. Both were musicians and artists. Both were addicted to drugs. Both would change their look about every 6 months (or so it would seem). In fact, every color that Jack dyed his hair, Sam had dyed his hair. Both went through the goth/punk eyeliner phase (there were pictures that looked exactly alike). Unfortunately, because Ben had gone through the loss of Jack, he was the perfect one to help me through my grieving for Sam. Everything I said, Ben understood without judgement. And, unfortunately, my loss of Sam made me better understand how Ben felt when he lost his brother. For the both of us, there had been a separation before hand. I had drifted apart from Sam, and not wanted to get closer because of his drug addiction (I couldn't put myself in that kind of relationship when my family was beginning), and Ben had pretty much given up on Jack because of his drug addiction. One major difference was that Sam was sober, and fighting to stay that way. The other is that Ben and I saw Sam two hours before it happened. Jack had been states away from his family.
One thing that is of a comfort to us is that we know we'll get to see them again. I don't believe that people who commit suicide aren't allowed into Heaven. My God would not make that one sin worse than any other. People who lie before being hit by a bus aren't any more likely to be kept from Heaven than those who commit adultery before having a heart attack. Sin is sin, and God looks at the heart. Jack and Sam made professions of faith at one point in their lives. I fully believe I will see them again.
Until then, every time I hear thunder, I'll think of Sam and Jack rockin' out in front of Jesus.
Friday, April 29, 2011
I'll Be There For You
First same day blog. I usually don't update for a least a couple days if not longer, so this is pretty new for me. But I find myself unable to sleep, and once again I have swirling thoughts in my head.
I feel like I have no friends. In fact, I feel like I have all of one person that I could call without the worry that I'm bothering them gnawing in the back of my head. She's the only one I've invited over within the last month, and the only one I've actually been able to make plans with, with any sort of ease. (Love you, Mama Cass!) I have been able to visit with a few other people within the last couple weeks, and I really enjoyed myself. But I'm now looking back and wondering if any kind of real connection was made.
I feel stupid trying to talk about this with Ben, so I haven't bothered bringing it up. I just really don't think he'd be able to understand. He's had the same group of friends since he was, like, 5. And even if he hasn't talked to one of them in three weeks, a single text between them and nothing has changed. He has managed to hold onto friends in a way that makes me, I'll admit it, jealous. Aren't girls supposed to be the ones with the life long friendships that start in preschool? Yet here I am, with not one same close friend as when I first met Ben.
I love going to the Mom's Group. And I can see some potential friendships there. But I walk in every meeting, and sit by myself until someone else starts a conversation. Or I stupidly stand by a group of women, just to look like I'm not alone. It may not seem it, since I'll share just about anything and I'm super talkative, but I am painfully shy. Every time I open my mouth, when someone else hasn't asked me a question first, I feel like a complete and total idiot. I'm just waiting for the other person to look at me like there's a chicken growing out of my head and ask why I'm talking to them.
I talk a good game. I say "I'll definitely give you a call if I need anything!" "Oh, we should so get together sometime." "All I do is sit at home, bored. We'll have to have a play date." "Let's get our families together! I bet the guys would really like each other too!" But I know it's not going to happen. I'm certainly not going to make the first move. Because I'm positive that you have absolutely no interest in me.
There are so many women that I respect and admire and just adore. But everything inside me says it's all one way. They don't care about me. And why should they?
It's happened just too many times. I've made these super close friendships, found these girls who are like sisters to me. And now I have no idea what's going on with them. I've lost them, one way or another. Maybe I'm afraid of getting hurt again, of losing another friend. Or maybe I'm just scarred. The only thing that was the same in all those relationships was me. What is it about me that makes so many people just walk away?
I can't put a number to the times that Ben and I have left Mini Church on Wednesday night, and I have spent the whole ride home feeling like no one cares, completely unwanted, and just plain awkward. When we go, I pretty much keep to myself because I feel like no one wants to hear what I have to say. People ask me questions about the boys and I answer, sometimes I try to add to conversations, but there is this dynamic that has been there for so long ... I feel like an intruder. And it's the same at Mom's Group. All the women have these stories, these memories, their kids love each other. And then there's me. Don't get me wrong, all the women are so welcoming. But I feel like an outsider. Like I don't matter.
So I guess there you have it. If I say I'm going to make plans with you, or I say I'm going to call you, don't expect it to happen. Because before I can pick up the phone, or type out that Facebook message, I have to get over the voice in my head that tells me I'll just be annoying you, the one that says I'm not worth your time. And past experience has shown that it's nearly impossible to get over that voice.
I feel like I have no friends. In fact, I feel like I have all of one person that I could call without the worry that I'm bothering them gnawing in the back of my head. She's the only one I've invited over within the last month, and the only one I've actually been able to make plans with, with any sort of ease. (Love you, Mama Cass!) I have been able to visit with a few other people within the last couple weeks, and I really enjoyed myself. But I'm now looking back and wondering if any kind of real connection was made.
I feel stupid trying to talk about this with Ben, so I haven't bothered bringing it up. I just really don't think he'd be able to understand. He's had the same group of friends since he was, like, 5. And even if he hasn't talked to one of them in three weeks, a single text between them and nothing has changed. He has managed to hold onto friends in a way that makes me, I'll admit it, jealous. Aren't girls supposed to be the ones with the life long friendships that start in preschool? Yet here I am, with not one same close friend as when I first met Ben.
I love going to the Mom's Group. And I can see some potential friendships there. But I walk in every meeting, and sit by myself until someone else starts a conversation. Or I stupidly stand by a group of women, just to look like I'm not alone. It may not seem it, since I'll share just about anything and I'm super talkative, but I am painfully shy. Every time I open my mouth, when someone else hasn't asked me a question first, I feel like a complete and total idiot. I'm just waiting for the other person to look at me like there's a chicken growing out of my head and ask why I'm talking to them.
I talk a good game. I say "I'll definitely give you a call if I need anything!" "Oh, we should so get together sometime." "All I do is sit at home, bored. We'll have to have a play date." "Let's get our families together! I bet the guys would really like each other too!" But I know it's not going to happen. I'm certainly not going to make the first move. Because I'm positive that you have absolutely no interest in me.
There are so many women that I respect and admire and just adore. But everything inside me says it's all one way. They don't care about me. And why should they?
It's happened just too many times. I've made these super close friendships, found these girls who are like sisters to me. And now I have no idea what's going on with them. I've lost them, one way or another. Maybe I'm afraid of getting hurt again, of losing another friend. Or maybe I'm just scarred. The only thing that was the same in all those relationships was me. What is it about me that makes so many people just walk away?
I can't put a number to the times that Ben and I have left Mini Church on Wednesday night, and I have spent the whole ride home feeling like no one cares, completely unwanted, and just plain awkward. When we go, I pretty much keep to myself because I feel like no one wants to hear what I have to say. People ask me questions about the boys and I answer, sometimes I try to add to conversations, but there is this dynamic that has been there for so long ... I feel like an intruder. And it's the same at Mom's Group. All the women have these stories, these memories, their kids love each other. And then there's me. Don't get me wrong, all the women are so welcoming. But I feel like an outsider. Like I don't matter.
So I guess there you have it. If I say I'm going to make plans with you, or I say I'm going to call you, don't expect it to happen. Because before I can pick up the phone, or type out that Facebook message, I have to get over the voice in my head that tells me I'll just be annoying you, the one that says I'm not worth your time. And past experience has shown that it's nearly impossible to get over that voice.
Wash Away The Thoughts Inside That Keep My Mind Away From You
Let me start with the promised recap of our first playdate at the W's. Unfortunately, the boys were complete and total crankypants, and didn't want to let us eat in peace like they did on Easter. It was, however, really nice to see some old friends. I hadn't gotten together with both W's since... gosh, before they were married! And their sweet little babe is over 7 months now! So, yeah, it had been a while. It was Ben's first time hanging out with them, and I would love it if they became a good couples/parents friends of ours. Dinner was wonderful, and the conversation was really natural. Their baby was mildly interested in the boys, as long as Mommy wasn't holding one! And since they only have the one, Mrs. W had a hard time with the whole "brothers" thing. She'll get it when they have another. :) It was a great time, and I hope to get together again some time relatively soon. We've already been invited for a game night at some point. (The only reason I'm not using names is because it could cause some issues for them. Someone we both know has a problem with me, and I'd rather not cause drama for them. I'd like to say they're the only ones who know someone who has issues with me personally. That's not the case. But I'm glad it doesn't stop people from being friends with me.)
I suppose it's time to move on to my main point for this blog. Admittedly, I am a paranoid glass-is-half-empty type. How I wish that were different! I don't like the pessimistic way I view the world, the way my fears worm themselves into my brain and dig their claws in so that there is no way to remove them. Sometimes airing out my thoughts helps to eradicate them (as was the case with my previous blog where I raked myself over the coals. Within 10 minutes of writing, I felt infinitely better), though sometimes rehashing my thoughts only suffices in solidifying them. I never know which way it will turn out, so don't be surprised if you often read some brutally honest things. My blog is not a place to hide things - I'd rather own up to what I think. Even if it means that some people will think less of me.
Lately the thought I've been having is the endless wonder of whether or not I am properly bonding with the boys. I mentioned it to Ben, and his response was incredulousness - that they LOVE me. Yes, they watch my every move, often ignoring Daddy when he holds them to instead look my way. I can get them to smile in ways that no one else can. But my thoughts are not of them bonding to me, but of me bonding to them. It pains me to say this, but sometimes I just don't want them to be so in need of me. (And they're not even at the point where they can follow and hang on me yet!) I find myself getting irritated when they begin crying for my attentions. Mikey especially will cry until I look at him and say something. Then he just starts smiling and laughing. Instead of enjoying that I can make my son stop crying with just a look, I'm so annoyed that he's crying just for attention. I don't have the time to interact as much as he wants, because he's not my only baby. I'm tired of washing bottles and feedings and diaper changings every few hours. Sometimes I just need to step out of the room, and they begin to cry because they are alone. I don't like that they want me around so much. I know it's not separation anxiety yet, but just the fact that they need someone in the room with them all the time (and I'm the only one here most of the time) weighs on me heavily. If I need to take a shower, I pretty much have to wait til they're asleep, wait til Ben gets home, or know that they will be screaming by the time I'm done. I'm sure that part of my irritations and lack of patience has to do with the fact that I am majorly PMS-ing right now. (I've also got a cold) But this isn't something that has started within the last week. I've felt this way for a while.
Don't get me wrong, I love my kids. I would never wish to not have them. But sometimes I miss the freedom of not being a Mommy. I had so much more time to myself even when I was just pregnant. I know babies are needy, but having two little demanders is so tough. I also think that maybe I wouldn't worry about my bonding with them if I had never worked in daycares. I so loved the munchkins I took care of. And right now, I don't see a whole lot of difference in the way I love my own. If I had one, maybe the devotion I could give one-on-one would clearly show the difference. I could never choose just one baby (as in - say I wish we'd just had Monkey, or I wish we'd just had Darry), but having the two of them so reminds me of my days in the infant rooms of the daycares I worked in. Two-on-one does not make for easy days. I know that just one is hard, and so many women have a lot of trouble handling it. But there is a part of me that just does not understand how one baby can be that hard. There are times when I can't help but think how much easier it would be with just one baby. Again, I could never choose between my children. But two in the same stage is beyond anything I could have thought I could handle. (I can't even IMAGINE how moms of triplets do it.)
I hate this about myself. I wish I was one of those women who just loves being a mom - every part of it. After all, this is the job I always wanted. And there is a huge part of me that is so happy with the way things are. I love my husband, I love my kids. I love that I have my own family. But sometimes these thoughts circle in my brain, and the weight of my job bears down in ways I never expected. I'm not just a babysitter, watching two little boys. I'm the one who is responsible for who they will become. I'm the one instilling morals and teaching God's love and acceptance. I'm the one they'll be blaming all their issues on (after all, isn't it always Mom's fault later in life??). No one is a perfect parent. But I just stress so much about making mistakes with them.
Ben is beyond understanding. I really have lucked out with him. He comes home and takes over with the boys, or does dishes or cooks if I'm just so exhausted from the day. Just the other day he came home and cleaned the kitchen while the boys napped and I just watched a TV show on the computer. He totally gets that my days are exhausting and I can't always get to the house upkeep that I want to. I have the very best husband. I am so grateful to God for providing me with His very best. I may not always deserve him, but I so love my husband.
I know that things will change. The boys will grow. There will be new hassles, new stresses, new marvels. It will go from crying for a bottle to crying because they've fallen off the bookcase (I'm pretty positive my two will be climbers from the very start... -_-). I'm sure that one day I will look back on this and laugh about how I thought I wasn't bonding with them. They'll wake up one day and call me Mama, and my heart will be so melted I'll wonder why I ever feared. I love my children. And that love will change and grow as they do. They're my boys, my babies, my heart. Even now, as Monkey babbles away in his swing, I feel the tears well in my eyes. I love them so very much. I still can't believe that they came from me, that they're actually mine. God is so good to me.
All I know is, when I'm in full swing PMS mode, I pretty much become my mother-in-law. I question myself, I cry at a song or just they way my little men are smiling at me. If you know my mother-in-law at all, you will understand what I'm saying. And you will know that I am in no way putting her down or upset at the parallels. Ben and I often talk about how similar we are. And he and I are both ok with that. :) She's a great lady.
I can only hope that one day my sons will find a girl they love, and be ok with the ways she's similar to me.
I suppose it's time to move on to my main point for this blog. Admittedly, I am a paranoid glass-is-half-empty type. How I wish that were different! I don't like the pessimistic way I view the world, the way my fears worm themselves into my brain and dig their claws in so that there is no way to remove them. Sometimes airing out my thoughts helps to eradicate them (as was the case with my previous blog where I raked myself over the coals. Within 10 minutes of writing, I felt infinitely better), though sometimes rehashing my thoughts only suffices in solidifying them. I never know which way it will turn out, so don't be surprised if you often read some brutally honest things. My blog is not a place to hide things - I'd rather own up to what I think. Even if it means that some people will think less of me.
Lately the thought I've been having is the endless wonder of whether or not I am properly bonding with the boys. I mentioned it to Ben, and his response was incredulousness - that they LOVE me. Yes, they watch my every move, often ignoring Daddy when he holds them to instead look my way. I can get them to smile in ways that no one else can. But my thoughts are not of them bonding to me, but of me bonding to them. It pains me to say this, but sometimes I just don't want them to be so in need of me. (And they're not even at the point where they can follow and hang on me yet!) I find myself getting irritated when they begin crying for my attentions. Mikey especially will cry until I look at him and say something. Then he just starts smiling and laughing. Instead of enjoying that I can make my son stop crying with just a look, I'm so annoyed that he's crying just for attention. I don't have the time to interact as much as he wants, because he's not my only baby. I'm tired of washing bottles and feedings and diaper changings every few hours. Sometimes I just need to step out of the room, and they begin to cry because they are alone. I don't like that they want me around so much. I know it's not separation anxiety yet, but just the fact that they need someone in the room with them all the time (and I'm the only one here most of the time) weighs on me heavily. If I need to take a shower, I pretty much have to wait til they're asleep, wait til Ben gets home, or know that they will be screaming by the time I'm done. I'm sure that part of my irritations and lack of patience has to do with the fact that I am majorly PMS-ing right now. (I've also got a cold) But this isn't something that has started within the last week. I've felt this way for a while.
Don't get me wrong, I love my kids. I would never wish to not have them. But sometimes I miss the freedom of not being a Mommy. I had so much more time to myself even when I was just pregnant. I know babies are needy, but having two little demanders is so tough. I also think that maybe I wouldn't worry about my bonding with them if I had never worked in daycares. I so loved the munchkins I took care of. And right now, I don't see a whole lot of difference in the way I love my own. If I had one, maybe the devotion I could give one-on-one would clearly show the difference. I could never choose just one baby (as in - say I wish we'd just had Monkey, or I wish we'd just had Darry), but having the two of them so reminds me of my days in the infant rooms of the daycares I worked in. Two-on-one does not make for easy days. I know that just one is hard, and so many women have a lot of trouble handling it. But there is a part of me that just does not understand how one baby can be that hard. There are times when I can't help but think how much easier it would be with just one baby. Again, I could never choose between my children. But two in the same stage is beyond anything I could have thought I could handle. (I can't even IMAGINE how moms of triplets do it.)
I hate this about myself. I wish I was one of those women who just loves being a mom - every part of it. After all, this is the job I always wanted. And there is a huge part of me that is so happy with the way things are. I love my husband, I love my kids. I love that I have my own family. But sometimes these thoughts circle in my brain, and the weight of my job bears down in ways I never expected. I'm not just a babysitter, watching two little boys. I'm the one who is responsible for who they will become. I'm the one instilling morals and teaching God's love and acceptance. I'm the one they'll be blaming all their issues on (after all, isn't it always Mom's fault later in life??). No one is a perfect parent. But I just stress so much about making mistakes with them.
Ben is beyond understanding. I really have lucked out with him. He comes home and takes over with the boys, or does dishes or cooks if I'm just so exhausted from the day. Just the other day he came home and cleaned the kitchen while the boys napped and I just watched a TV show on the computer. He totally gets that my days are exhausting and I can't always get to the house upkeep that I want to. I have the very best husband. I am so grateful to God for providing me with His very best. I may not always deserve him, but I so love my husband.
I know that things will change. The boys will grow. There will be new hassles, new stresses, new marvels. It will go from crying for a bottle to crying because they've fallen off the bookcase (I'm pretty positive my two will be climbers from the very start... -_-). I'm sure that one day I will look back on this and laugh about how I thought I wasn't bonding with them. They'll wake up one day and call me Mama, and my heart will be so melted I'll wonder why I ever feared. I love my children. And that love will change and grow as they do. They're my boys, my babies, my heart. Even now, as Monkey babbles away in his swing, I feel the tears well in my eyes. I love them so very much. I still can't believe that they came from me, that they're actually mine. God is so good to me.
All I know is, when I'm in full swing PMS mode, I pretty much become my mother-in-law. I question myself, I cry at a song or just they way my little men are smiling at me. If you know my mother-in-law at all, you will understand what I'm saying. And you will know that I am in no way putting her down or upset at the parallels. Ben and I often talk about how similar we are. And he and I are both ok with that. :) She's a great lady.
I can only hope that one day my sons will find a girl they love, and be ok with the ways she's similar to me.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Alive, Alive, Alive Hallelujah
Welp, yesterday was Easter. They boys' first one! Of course, we had to dress them in matching outfits. ^_^ Unlike some twin parents, Ben and I don't like dressing the boys the same all the time - just on holidays/special occasions. I had wanted to get them those super cute vest/dress shirt combos, but I couldn't find any when I went to Wal*Mart last weekend (except in the older boy section. Grrr.) so we just picked up polo onesies and blue pants. I know I could have gotten them at Babies R Us (since I had seen them there the last time I'd been there) but I just couldn't justify spending $20+ an outfit when I was able to get both for $12 at Wally's. Sorry, but when you've got two little ones and one income, you need to be a little careful with money.
We have yet to put the boys in the nursery when we go to church. The first week we decided to do it, we had to skip church because I was waiting on the pediatrician to get back to me (I wasn't sure if I'd have to bring Darry in and didn't want to get ready for church if we weren't going to be able to go) and by the time the doc called back, it was too late to go. Last week Ben stayed home because he was sick, and so I'd asked his mom to help me bring them. I didn't want to put them in the nursery without Ben (I don't know why. I'm weird. :P). And then yesterday was Easter, so we didn't want that to be their first week in the nursery. Hopefully next week will work out. I like having the boys in the nursery so that they can get some socialization (and be used to being taken care of by someone else). They already spend time in there on MOPS days, so hopefully the transition on Sundays will be an easy one.
After church (and being stopped by many many people who had to fawn), we went to Donna's family's house. Auntie Maria made a wonderful Italian Easter dinner (seriously, you could get full just on the appetizers. Then there's the pasta course, and then the normal Easter dinner foods.) The boys were pretty well behaved. They got mad once we got off the highway on our way, since there wasn't as much motion lulling them to sleep and they were hungry. But once we were there, they were well-behaved. They even took a nap during dinner (which made it so much easier to eat in peace!) I can't believe how many pictures we took. Since we don't typically dress them alike, I tend to take a lot of pictures when they're so adorably similar.
Once we left, we made an appearance at Ben's parents' house. Grandma Y. was coming over so we stayed until she got there. She hasn't gotten to see much of them yet, since she lives in FL, but hopefully she'll be able to see them a lot while she's here for the summer. We weren't able to stay very long since Mikey started crying for a bottle and it was too close to bathtime to feed him (our nightly routine is bath at 6:30 - whoever is fussier gets the first bath - then bottle and then bed. Typically they get into bed around 8). So we just headed home and gave the boys and early bath. They were both in bed by 7:15, so we actually had some time to ourselves before we needed to go to bed. (Once the boys are in bed, we usually just get ready and go to bed ourselves - typically by 8:30) It was a nice end to a busy holiday. I love the few moments I get alone with Ben. It reminds me that I'm not just a Mommy. It's during that time that I get to be a wife again. It's such a recharge of my batteries. Man. I love my husband. <3
I suppose I should have written about our first playdate at the W's on Saturday before writing the Easter blog, but Easter was more on my mind. I suppose I'll just include it in the next blog. Unless I forget. I'd write in now but Monkey's already up with me in the living room, and Ducky is waking. Time to go be a Mommy. ^_^
We have yet to put the boys in the nursery when we go to church. The first week we decided to do it, we had to skip church because I was waiting on the pediatrician to get back to me (I wasn't sure if I'd have to bring Darry in and didn't want to get ready for church if we weren't going to be able to go) and by the time the doc called back, it was too late to go. Last week Ben stayed home because he was sick, and so I'd asked his mom to help me bring them. I didn't want to put them in the nursery without Ben (I don't know why. I'm weird. :P). And then yesterday was Easter, so we didn't want that to be their first week in the nursery. Hopefully next week will work out. I like having the boys in the nursery so that they can get some socialization (and be used to being taken care of by someone else). They already spend time in there on MOPS days, so hopefully the transition on Sundays will be an easy one.
After church (and being stopped by many many people who had to fawn), we went to Donna's family's house. Auntie Maria made a wonderful Italian Easter dinner (seriously, you could get full just on the appetizers. Then there's the pasta course, and then the normal Easter dinner foods.) The boys were pretty well behaved. They got mad once we got off the highway on our way, since there wasn't as much motion lulling them to sleep and they were hungry. But once we were there, they were well-behaved. They even took a nap during dinner (which made it so much easier to eat in peace!) I can't believe how many pictures we took. Since we don't typically dress them alike, I tend to take a lot of pictures when they're so adorably similar.
Once we left, we made an appearance at Ben's parents' house. Grandma Y. was coming over so we stayed until she got there. She hasn't gotten to see much of them yet, since she lives in FL, but hopefully she'll be able to see them a lot while she's here for the summer. We weren't able to stay very long since Mikey started crying for a bottle and it was too close to bathtime to feed him (our nightly routine is bath at 6:30 - whoever is fussier gets the first bath - then bottle and then bed. Typically they get into bed around 8). So we just headed home and gave the boys and early bath. They were both in bed by 7:15, so we actually had some time to ourselves before we needed to go to bed. (Once the boys are in bed, we usually just get ready and go to bed ourselves - typically by 8:30) It was a nice end to a busy holiday. I love the few moments I get alone with Ben. It reminds me that I'm not just a Mommy. It's during that time that I get to be a wife again. It's such a recharge of my batteries. Man. I love my husband. <3
I suppose I should have written about our first playdate at the W's on Saturday before writing the Easter blog, but Easter was more on my mind. I suppose I'll just include it in the next blog. Unless I forget. I'd write in now but Monkey's already up with me in the living room, and Ducky is waking. Time to go be a Mommy. ^_^
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