So, I’ve been tracking all my food for the last ten days. I am trying to put more thought into what I put in my mouth, but I am not going crazy calorie counting or anything. I know a lifestyle change that places that many demands on my time is not going to stick. So it’s just simple, small changes. I’m eating breakfast. I’m eating lunch. I’m not eating out unless I’m out of town or something and have no choice. I’m using wraps instead of bread. I’m eating salad before dinner so I’m more satisfied, sooner. I am putting my food into Fat Secret, but only to see what my patterns are and to nip any bad habits I see cropping up. I am cooking for my family again…even the prepared foods are healthier than eating out.
I attended my cousin Jodie’s wedding last Saturday in an Atlanta suburb. It was one of the best weddings I’ve ever been to. The bride was stunning, the groom was handsome, and the love was palpable in the room. The venue was intimate and classy, and the ceremony was a lovely blend of Jewish and Christian traditions. The dinner was delicious, the wine was sweet, and the reception was fun for everyone from the teenagers in attendance to the great-grandparents. It was a good time, for sure, and I wish them a lifetime of bliss.
But something happened there, something inside me, that I am still trying to make sense of.
I haven’t seen my cousins in far too long. The best we can figure is that it’s been about 15 years, because we don’t think they ever met my son. In the years since, both of them have been quite successful. Jodie is a pharmacist. Nikka is an RN who just was accepted into a Masters Program. We used to all be chubby, kind of awkward kids. They both are gorgeous now..like, WOW, gorgeous. Jodie just married an ER nurse. I’m sure they have a lovely home, and they live near one of the coolest cities in the world, IMO. Nikka is dating a handsome doctor, and they live in Melbourne, Fl….you know, where the beaches actually have waves.
Meanwhile….I’m a single fat mom who just gets by.
I know, I know. I know everything you guys will say in protest. Karl already tried to beat it all in my head when I said it in the first place. But it’s how I feel. You know, like when your husband says you are gorgeous but you don’t believe him because you don’t FEEL gorgeous and anyway, he just wants to have sex, so of COURSE he would say that.
I had such plans for myself. I sat at a table full of lawyers and thought how I was going to be one of them. But, instead, I had a baby at 16. And not even a baby with someone I loved…I had a baby with a rebound I was hanging out with and just got too drunk to know better. I am 32 and still working on my degree. Every time I go back to school something happens and I have to quit. I have a job, but there is little security in working for a non-profit, and even less room for advancement or, you know, pay raises at least. I’m divorced. ‘Nuff said. I’ve put on seventy pounds since I became a mom….actually more like a hundred, but I took thirty off. I’ve already had one kid in a juvenile detention program for five months. I handle my money well now, but my poor financial management in the past means I have a shit credit rating.
I feel like a big fat failure.
And I know I’m just singling out the not so great things, and ignoring the things I *am* good at, but this is the reality of what I see. This is why I don’t see my friend Jamie more often…..how beautiful and successful she is makes me feel bad about how NOT I think I am. I feel frumpy and kind of useless. I had someone take a photo of my cousins and I at the wedding, and instead of seeing the smiles..the joy at being together again to celebrate..I see how my forearm is bigger than their upper arms..I see how my thighs are probably the size of their waists. I just see everything about me that isn’t what I wish it was.
I talked about one of my best friends a while ago, but I never got around to finishing our story. Since I’m feeling a little hesitant to write right now, I think it’s a good time to finish since it’s a ‘safe’ subject.
When I left off, Angel’s labor was stopped with medication for three days. The nurses were monitoring her for contractions at the beginning of each shift change for an hour, to be sure. Angel had just been taken off the monitor, and we had a pizza on the way from Pizza Hut. We played cards and chatted while we waited for the call from the front desk that the pizza was there. When it came, Angel told me she felt a little uncomfortable, no big deal. I told the nurse on my way down to get the pizza, thinking nothing of it since Angel didn’t seem concerned.
When I returned, the room was in chaos.
They had put her back on the monitor, and she was having nearly constant contractions. They had to check her dilation, even though it was dangerous with preterm rupture of the membranes, and they found she was fully dilated, and the babies were coming…quickly. She clung to my hand as they wheeled the bed into an large OR, smashing me into the doorframe and dragging me anyway. I was so panicked, I didn’t even feel it until the bruises popped up the next day. She made me promise I wouldn’t leave her….and then made me run back to the room for the camera. She was the bravest woman I had ever seen….she was facing this terrifying moment with grace and humor and strength.
She tried to push, but the way the twins were positioned made it too difficult, and too risky, and they decided to perform an emergency C-section. I had to leave, but she begged me to go with the babies to the NICU, and to make sure they didn’t mix them up. I gave the pizza to the nurses in the nurse’s station, and waited. It seemed like forever. I wasnt blood to the three people I loved in that room, but that didn’t matter at all. They were my family anyway, and I was terrified. I was scared for the babies. I was scared for my friend. And there was not a damn thing I could do but wait, and have faith in the staff working so feverishly to save them all.
When they wheeled the first baby out in this wheeled contraption taller than me, I couldn’t breathe for a moment. He was so tiny…I knew he would be tiny, but oh. my. God. I ran alongside the NICU team as they explained to me that both the boys were okay…much better than they feared, but they would be in the NICU for a loooooong time. I felt like I was on a spy mission as we barreled through an underground tunnel toward the life saving and sustaining equipment in All Children’s Hospital, both afraid to look at the baby and afraid to look away, as if he’d vanish. When his brother came along, I looked at them both and felt the relief wash over me….they were both breathing. They both had eyes. Their bodies were tiny, but they seemed to be responding to all the treatments and machines and there was no immediate threat, just a long road that lay ahead.
I tried to file away all the information the nurses and doctors were bombarding me with…so afraid I would forget some critical nugget of information. I knew Angel wouldn’t be able to visit them for several hours after she left the recovery room, and she would be starving for every morsel I could give her. I couldn’t touch the babies, but I sat with each of them and told them how loved they were and how strong they were and how we had faith that they would do this.
When I finally saw Angel again, I explained everything I knew. I assured her that they had all their parts, just super tiny parts. I showed her the Polaroids the NICU staff gave me, and we waited for the staff to give her the go ahead to get up and go to the NICU herself. She was mad at me for giving away the pizza, heh. When the time came, I wheeled her down, through the tunnel, and to her sons.
Their story doesn’t end here…there were triumphs and tragedies. But they aren’t mine to tell. I’m trying to get Angel to start blogging herself, even if only guest posting here….she is quirky and unique and wonderful, and she has that offbeat sense of humor so many of us are attracted to. Hopefully she’ll tell you the rest of their story herself.
I accidentally got pants a size smaller than I actually wear now and they fit. They will look better with another 5-10 lbs lost, but they fit without muffintop or cameltoe.
I’m starting a healthy living collaboration blog with some awesome people. (If you are interested in contributing, let me know. Whether you are in weight loss, maintenance, or just care about your body, I would love your input.)
The 50 inch plasma tv that I got, brand new, for $420 is being delivered tomorrow. Unlike my current tv, it has a pc input, so I can work on bringing that media center pc idea into fruition.
I booked a Mother’s Day weekend getaway for my mom and I. She’s always wanted to see Cher, so Vegas it is.
The Bad:
I have what I have dubbed #snotcopalypse. Very, very unpleasant.
Valentine’s Day. ‘Nuff said.
Still haven’t heard from the school board about the staffing for Christian. It’s been two weeks, people.
My pretty new comforter is falling apart at the seams.
The heater in my car started making a weird noise this morning.
My daughters’ bedroom is *still* carpeted in feathers. *sigh* So much for the carpet getting pulled up this week like we planned.
The Ugly:
The other friendship? Gah. Just trying to let it go and move on, and whenever I think I accomplish that, somehow it seems to just pop up again like a zombie.
My dear friend is experiencing a fuckload of a lot more drama than he deserves or needs to be dealing with.
Betches.
My mom was denied COBRA. I have no idea how that is even possible, but now my 62yo mom, with diabetes and hypertension, has no health coverage.
My roomie had to be taken to the hospital last Saturday night. We were leaving Monster Jam. The cold and the long walk got to him and he had a pretty bad asthma attack. Was scary.
I’ve had heartburn pretty much daily for over a month. I’m taking Pepcid daily, and it keeps the symptom manageable, but the potential implications freak me out, since I have no health coverage, either.
It’s been 26 months since I started this blog. I have 183 posts; Well, 184 including this one. I have 704 comments, and about 35 subscribers. I get about 20 unique hits a day, if I’m reading my stats right. According to Technorati, my blog has $0 value. I have 1,222 Twitter followers. Klout says I am a ‘persona.’ According to TweetValue, my Twitter account is worth $334. In other words, I am small, small, potatoes.
But I don’t even keep track of those things that so many bloggers seem so obsessive over. In fact, I had to look every one of those stats up. Because I really couldn’t care less how popular this blog is, or how high I can get my number of followers to climb. The value of my blog, for me, lies in the relationships I’ve been blessed with through having it. There are people who have come into my life that I have felt an instant kinship with, and there are people with whom I have gradually built a solid foundation for a life-long friendship. There are mothers I have commiserated with over wayward teen behaviors and funny quips from my minions, and women without children of their own that I have forged bonds with over other common ground. There are people I could instantly relate to, and others that took some time to find that relatability, which is a word I think I just totally made up. And there are even the more casual friendships that, while not as heart-gripping, have undoubtedly enriched my life.
It was just in February that I busted out of my comfort zone and started bridging my online relationships into real life by traveling by myself to Nashville and attending BlissDom with only the names and faces of a few local bloggers to remedy my social anxiety. Those women, Shash and Anissa, were friendly and warm and welcoming, and they gave me the push I needed to go into that conference without even a roommate to fall back on. I went on to attend smaller local blogger meetups as well as BlogHer09, and I have been so blessed to have done so, and to have come across the dynamic and diverse group of people I have coerced into becoming my friends.
There were other blessings in my life, as well. Emily was accepted into the gifted program. I was finally diagnosed and treated for PCOS. Faith’s grades improved this year. I’ve lost 30 pounds. I’ve entered into a new relationship that is going well. My mother retired and moved out so I’ve got my home to myself. Some blessings were tempered with drawbacks. A decade long relationship came to an end, which needed to happen, but is still difficult for everyone involved. The situation with my son’s troubled behavior left me feeling like a parenting failure. As a parenting coach, your confidence is pretty important, so my work was affected as well, and now those issues have resurfaced.
But, when I think of the challenges 2009 served up the friends I’ve made in the last 26 months, both the near and dear and the more emotionally distanced, I find myself nearly nauseous with the pain I’ve witnessed through my laptop. So, this is for you. For Kim, who lost her husband, and her father in the same year. For Heather and Shelli, who lost their children. For Chrissi and Britt, who came perilously close to losing their marriages. For Hilly and Wendy, who did lose theirs. For Shannon, whose husband fought cancer. For Lisa, who left a legacy behind that will never be forgotten. For Karl, who lost a best friend. For Jenni, who suffered at least one miscarriage this year. For Anissa, who is fighting her way out of her second stroke. For all of you who have suffered a loss.
It’s been tough for us all. I don’t want to compare our pain and decide who wins. But I do want to say that I am so, so sorry for whatever disappointment or loss you’ve experienced in 2009, and so glad for whatever blessings you find peace in recognizing. And I am praying for a year of health, wealth, and happiness, not necessarily in that order, for us all.
Edited to add: I heard this song on Pandora last night, and it made me think of all of you.
John Mayer, ‘The Heart of Life’ Lyrics:
I hate to see you cry
Lying there in that position
There’s things you need to hear
So turn off your tears and listen
Pain throws your heart to the ground
Love turns the whole thing around
No, it won’t all go the way it should
But I know the heart of life is good
You know it’s nothing new
Bad news never had good timing
Then the circle of your friends
Will defend the silver lining
Pain throws your heart to the ground
Love turns the whole thing around
No, it won’t all go the way it should
But I know the heart of life is good
(Whistle Interlude)
Pain throws your heart to the ground
Love turns the whole thing around
Fear is a friend who’s misunderstood
But I know the heart of life is good
I’m feeling a bit like a caterpillar going through a metamorphosis lately. Everything seems like it’s shifting and morphing into something new, but the truth is that the layers I’ve built up around me..for protection, out of fear, from frustration, out of hurt..they are falling away and the person that I’ve always been inside is being revealed, piece by piece.
But still, I always have this fear inside.
That I’m not enough. That I’m not smart enough. That I’m not funny enough. That I’m not pretty enough. That I don’t give enough.
That I’m too much. That I’m a know it all. That I push my humor too much. That I’m too big. That I’m too needy. That I give too much.
Too much…not enough. I don’t know what will quell this fear. But something in me tells me that the answer won’t even be necessary when the last remnants of my shell fall away.
I attended my cousin Jodie’s wedding last Saturday in an Atlanta suburb. It was one of the best weddings I’ve ever been to. The bride was stunning, the groom was handsome, and the love was palpable in the room. The venue was intimate and classy, and the ceremony was a lovely blend of Jewish and Christian traditions. The dinner was delicious, the wine was sweet, and the reception was fun for everyone from the teenagers in attendance to the great-grandparents. It was a good time, for sure, and I wish them a lifetime of bliss.
I talked about one of my best friends 
The Good:
It’s been 26 months since I started this blog. I have 183 posts; Well, 184 including this one. I have 704 comments, and about 35 subscribers. I get about 20 unique hits a day, if I’m reading my stats right. According to Technorati, my blog has $0 value. I have 1,222 Twitter followers. Klout says I am a ‘persona.’ According to TweetValue, my Twitter account is worth $334. In other words, I am small, small, potatoes.