a new beginning; chapter refresh

I started writing this as a simple Facebook status update, but realized it was too much and too long, and ultimately too important not to blog on.
I've been dropping lots of hints, and a lot of people in my life already know my big life changes, but I want to start documenting my journey. So here we go.

This will be Eli's last week at his current daycare. It's been a good fit until now, but is no longer right for either one of us. I'm not going to delve too deeply into that, at least not now. But, while it is a perfectly fine daycare, and most likely a fabulous fit for a lot of parents and children, there are core beliefs that are not in line with my parenting. And I am finding it increasingly hard to maintain a continuity in his life, between my parenting and the daycare setting.
Beyond that, I have always struggled with him being away from me 8+ hours a day. It was not my parenting plan, nor is it an option for us anymore. The last few weeks have felt horribly wrong, dropping him off with big tears for us both. My heart in my throat, trying to convince myself it was 'normal', and 'other parents can do this'. It's not for us. I finally listened to myself and my sweet boy.

I am starting the process of becoming a licensed in-home daycare provider. This is a huge leap of faith, adjustment for both of us, and all around risk. I have no idea how the pieces are going to come together. I decided to take this journey less than a week ago. But that's how I am - once I decide whole-heartedly in something, I dive. Head first. And that's how I know it's right.
I was applying for full time outside-the-home jobs, had been for almost 2 months, when I finally stopped and stood still. Looked myself in the eye and asked "why has this not been happening?" I was very halfhearted in my job search, and something felt vibrationally off. It came in a big rush of relief and tears: that was no longer my path. I said to hell with it and to hell with the doubts and most importantly to hell with the naysayers. I meditated and prayed and reminded myself of promises I made us both. I got shaky and worried about the logistics and what a big leap this is, and mind-dumped to my mom. In typical fashion, she told me to follow my heart, and it will all work out. I wouldn't be able to do this without her.

I'm starting my STARS online course today, and signing up for CPR classes. I hope to finish at least my STARS training this week, while Eli is in daycare for these last 4 days. From there, paperwork like crazy.
The biggest hurdle right now is finding the perfect house. It's hard and frustrating and I almost throw in the towel every time I look at Craigslist and come up empty handed or dreaming of something out of my price range. So I walk away from the frustration and play with Eli and breathe.

I close my eyes and dream of the perfect house, with the perfect yard. Warm and bright, cozy and clean. Full of love and laughter and growing up. Where Eli can grow and learn, where I can be a part of other childrens' lives - to nurture and respect and teach and love.

The idea of being present every day to raise my child has left me in joyful tears today. I've missed too much already, and his baby days are flashing by.  I cannot stand to be apart from his journey anymore. And to couple that with the chance to be a part of other childrens' journeys, and ease dear parents' minds at who is helping guide their children - well, it's a dream I didn't know I was dreaming.

It's a long road I'm speeding down, but my heart is leading me, and I'm following faithfully.

Back, and home, and brand new

3 am is not an ideal time for blogging. And yet, I know sleep will not claim me until this:

My world shook. Hard. I dreaded, expected, anticipated, mourned over this moment. The moment that shook me beyond words. I played over and over in my head; I have for over a year, how I would react. Cool, calm. A punch. But, the overwhelming get the fuck out did not occur to me. I felt blind, tunnel vision. Physical response so severe my friends had to hold on to me and tell me to breathe. I, oh, I have no words for how grateful I am for those two lovely ladies. Who broke all the rules, bummed me a cigarette, and turned my night back around.

I, well, I cried harder tears, doubled over in the street, than I have in over that same year. I cried for things I couldn't word, things I can't understand, and mostly? Maybe? To let the fucking shit go.

I don't feel like saying anything to him anymore. I cried hard and deep until the tears dried up. I spun, and laughed, and somewhere in the haze of smoke and indiscriminate eyes, I let go.
I, head held high, came back. Fearless. With a smile and did not ignore, but simply was done caring.

Tonight hurt in a way that is impossible to describe, and yet, cleansed me deeply.

I hold my sweet sleeping baby boy and realize that no part of him is anything but me, biology be damned.

And?

Life does get better. There is some quiet hope in the dim. If I close my eyes and smile wide, I don't notice the lights go up.

Tonight, I think I came back.

beyond the package; a little irony

We are all, more or less, seeking that other person who...well, what? Perfectly compliments us? Or utterly matches us?

I feel this battle, this internal debate near constantly. They say that opposites attract, but I think we've all learned that mere attraction only runs so deep. And your "perfect match" is "out there" (Match.com anyone? Been there. Lived that.), but if someone absolutely matches me, that is a recipe for boredom.

If my current not-really dating life, it's so much different than BB (Before Baby). I'm not just going with the flow or 'seeing where this leads' or even, really, completely, 'living in the moment'. Probably not good. But, right now, if there isn't a solid future potential there's just no point. I don't have the time or energy or head/heart space for that.

I have finally perhaps become the I Want A Husband girl. I really didn't intend to be this girl at 24. Or, maybe, ever. But I want a home, with a man to come home to (or oh goodness, who comes home to me), babies under foot, white picket damn fence.

And as I write this I think woman, this is what you've always wanted. Since I was toddling around kissing my babydolls. I am made to be a mother, and made to be a wife. Made to make a home. It is my heart.

Thus, a husband. Am I avidly searching? No.

But in half-assed 'dating' attempts, I realize and question so much. (Data gathering, right mom?)

How much 'perfect match' vs 'intriguing opposite' do I really want in a partner? And where does blind love take you? I know that really out of control love can lead you (me) down imperfect roads. Hard roads. And animal attraction? It's fun, but it's ultimately lonely. I have dreams of who I might end up with, and it's all lovely. But reality? Reality is that love is so undefinable, and uncontrollable.

Will I fall in love with a man who shares my every parenting practice? Who is my awkward blend of hippie and redneck? Will I find a person who wants exactly the same type of house I do? The same number of kids? The same taste in music and love for literature?

Probably not. And how much do those things matter? I've blamed those differences for a failed relationship, for...years. But then I realize it was so.much.bigger.

So what is really the key combination? I know there are no answers, but my questions are so so huge tonight. They feel as if they take all the space inside me. Push the air and fear out and oh how I dream dream of love. I doubt it, maybe still a little. But never fully. I half hearted worry that I'll dive down the wrong path again, get hurt all over. End up 'wasting' another year. Get caught up in how something looks and what could be and push too hard. Because it's all really heavy.

And then, I focus hard on how I want it to feel. And try to trust in the delivery.

clarity; comprehension; compassion

I'm working oh so hard on January. Trying to love a month I don't naturally. Trying to find a balance and peace in life limbo. Trying to love and accept myself, to grow.

My world these days is big and wide and sort of lonely. Long days at home while sweet baby is at daycare. Trying (so much trying) to keep up a routine for when I am working again. I think so much in these days. The emotions are big and hard. And sometimes great. And then I see this boy's face split open in a grin that's just for me and my world shrinks down again to slobbery kisses.

Late at night I sit and think and can't sleep. It's quiet. It's still. The tears pour, and my heart seems more sure. Light of day can blind and awaken, but nighttime is the time for warm dreams.

I didn't start this year with resolutions simply because it was a new year. This was a giant shift, a transition time in my life. From living the life that was handed to me, to choosing deliberately where next to step.

This year, this time in my life, is about a few things. Big things.

Forgiveness. Not for anyone else, but for myself. Forgiving people who have hurt me, hurt the ones I love. Abandoned, betrayed, disappointed. And ultimately, it's about forgiving myself. That one is the absolute hardest.

Trust. Forgiveness and trust walk hand in hand. And so, not only and not so much, do I intend to learn trust for other, but mostly and absolutely I have to be able to trust myself again. That trust, in my own judgement, was so violently shaken in the past 2 years, that I have a hard time believing myself.  It will come, I believe, in time.

Love. Forgiveness and trust wrap love up in a big warm hug. Of course, I will forever dream, dreamer that I am, of the Big Love. But, my love for everything, for life, is blooming again. I focus, quiet my mind, and let the love pour out. For my son, it is easy. Oh, he has taught me love again. Love like nothing else. But I learn also, again and again, to love myself.

And the present, the gift of the now. I am such a dreamer, that I am always remembering the past or fantasizing about the future, and sometimes I'm letting the present moment slip by my eyes and by my heart. Again, I take a beat and look at this little being who is growing upsofast and my heart skids to a stop. Forget everything else. Live right here in this big little minute forever with baby laughter games and big big eyes that look at you like you're his whole wide world. Every day, every single day.

And ultimately, newly for me, the challenge of action. I am not a woman of action. I am a woman of thought and dreams and pro/con lists. I am a follow-my-heart-but-only-after-years-of-deliberation woman. I don't want to wait years, anymore. I want to take big bold action. It's muddled up with trust, again. Trust that if I fall I'll be okay. Because, honestly: I thought I fell too hard to survive. Instead, I made two lives.

2014, I'm ready for you. I'm ready for everything.

moment to moment

I haven't blogged in so long. Life took over, and really, there are so many things I should be doing tonight instead of this. Or different posts I could be writing. Instead, this heaviness is on my shoulders. And I need to share it.

I wish someone had told me. Not the hard parts. Not the sleep problems, the frustration, the worry, the heartache. I wish instead, someone would have been able to convey to me that absolute love.

I wish I could have told the me then exactly how it would feel, and what to say when asked "why would you keep this baby?"

He is made for me. Out of starlight and fire and the ocean and all the good things in the universe. He is mine and mine alone. This baby is the whole breadth of my soul. I was made to make him. I've said this a million times before, and realize each time that words don't come close.

In the midst of sleepless nights and big emotions for us both, I check myself. Walk away, reset, apologize for mamas shortcomings, and kiss pudgy cheeks. I breathe in his warm milky breath, and soak up his laughter and big big smiles just for me. My heart has no more room in it, and yet grows wider with every day.

I wish I knew back then to say "Because I am ready for unconditional love".

I look at our little, flawed and faulted life, and take the moments needed to realize all he needs is me. And to be present. To say fuck the dishes and all the 'should be done's. Forget what isn't happening, just for this moment. Lay in bed at 6pm and let him bat at your face. Snuggle snuggle snuggle close and don't worry about tomorrow or yesterday.

Today, today is always ours.

just keep swimming

I started this blog with bold intentions. But sweet baby Eli lovingly demands my attention more.
And work, as glorious as it is, drains me some days. The knowledge that all this information I'm cramming into my brain and all the hard work I'm putting in will only be for another 30 days, and then I'm out. And boy, I'm sad.

And, baby. This kid. He's so perfect.
My life isn't. I feel scattered and tested and worn thin. I should be asleep, but I stay up eating milk cookies and drinking beer in hopes of boosting my supply. Okay, beer and cookies aren't really that awful.

2 weeks of sickness on top of sickness (my fever, Eli's constant congestion to the point of puking), and then yesterday full on monster teething hit. We've been sort of angling at it for a good month now, but I can see his first tooth coming through (WHAT? He's still my newborn. Stop it.) and he just falls apart at the drop of a hat. Tries to hard, wants so badly, to be his normal happy goofy self. But the pain wins over sometimes and he loses it. And then I lose it. And then we all fall down.

Hyland teething tablets. 5 minutes later, and he's out. I sure wish I had these yesterday.

And, my television isn't working. It's annoying and a bummer and booooring 'round here sometimes without it. BUT? I have found myself in a beautiful silence. One I needed. For the good and bad. I needed to be quiet with myself and reflect. Converse, connect, redirect.

I feel okay, I feel like my head is only barely barely above water. But I'm still swimming ever forward. And that's, well that's that.

just like the first time

A year ago today I found out I was pregnant.
A year ago today was one of the single hardest days of my life.
A year ago today I came close to terminating my pregnancy.

 I don't really talk about that day. Because it soon became to irrelevant.

But, it is, really, very important. And worthy of a celebration. And tears.

A year ago today, I finally went to Rite Aid, bought two pregnancy tests, and told myself I was just paranoid. 3 long long minutes later I found myself on the floor. Sobbing is not an accurate measure.

Without the full story, which is something else entirely, Eli's biologic father is not, was not, won't ever be, a fit father. I knew that, but the hopehopehope was so strong I couldn't help but dream of a family.

Oh, the tears.

A year ago today I stared at 2 pink lines that I thought couldn't be true. My first thought, in fact, was "get it out". A year ago, I looked into exactly what an abortion entailed.

I am not against abortion in the broad sense, exactly. But I always 'knew' it wouldn't ever be a valid choice for me. But there I was, researching it so clinically. And then dissolving in tears and pain. And quiet almost-acceptance.

I had to have this baby. God, the Universe, my own whatever, gave me this collection of cells. And it was mine. And maybe for a while I viewed this as my consequence.

It destroys me a little to admit this, but I really didn't want to have this baby. I resented it, hated myself, hated my ex more than anything. Even farther than most people know, even once I made it public, I was so angry. Even, honestly, after Eli was born I struggled with the anger. Sometimes, even, still. It's a part of the story.

But back then, a year ago, I couldn't see anything good. I saw pain and struggle and anger and survival.

Now?

Everyone knows how deep my love and pride run for my little man. But what people don't know, never will understand, is how much I needed him. He made me a better person, and continues to every day. I live for him. I am stronger and more courageous. More loving and patient and honest. More bold, more sure, more confident. Love of my life.

And to think he almost didn't happen. To think I almost never got to meet him, look into those huge brown eyes. I almost never got to feel his hand reach out and hold on, hear his laughter, know his heart. I cannot fathom a life without this boy.

What I've never shared is all my guilt. It is worthless, but it is there. Over the terms of his conception, the choice of a bio father. Over my almost-termination of his life, over my anger and denial. It's big and strong and hurts to admit. But it's there. Guilt over all he hasn't had, and might never have.

I try my hardest to give him all the love and nurturing I can. I will, forever and always.

I'm just...floored, tonight. I look at his sweet, rosy cheeks as he sleeps so peacefully. And...my heart cannot contain this.

Sometimes I wish I could talk to my year-ago self and say you're about to fall in love for the very first time.

Nothing on earth ever prepared me for this.

Eli, my sweet baby boy. You are meant for me. I am meant for you. I am honored to be your mama.