There's No Need to Make Me Feel Guilty. . .

. . .I do a good enough job of that myself.

Life has been a little crazy around here lately. Full of uncertainties, instabilities, stress, stress, stress and, the need to finally announce our surprise of a pregnancy to all.

Life hasn't been easy. But, as life goes, there is always someone who is worse off right? Don't get me wrong. It's both humbling, and touching, to hear on the news, or read a story, about someone who overcame an impossible situation with strength, faith and traits that are admirable. Knowing that people have survived the most heart wrenching of situations is always a good reminder to me. It reminds me to be thankful for the challenges that are mine. It reminds me that it's possible for someone to make it through a hard, and desperate, situation and not be known for the failures that brought them there, but for the character shown in overcoming their hardships. But sometimes I wonder when my story will be told with that hint of, "Just be grateful you don't have to deal with what she's going through".

I don't want to be babied. I don't want people to feel sorry for me. I just don't want people to feel they have to lay on the guilt or teach me a lesson. I personally think its a bad tactic. Stories of the less fortunate should serve as humbling reminders. They should be personal revelations, and each of us should be allowed to interpret them in our own way. When they are used to cake on the guilt I find myself turned off. I get angry and upset. Sure, I understand their point. I know I could have things a lot worse. I try to remind myself of that everyday. But my experiences are my own. I have a right to my feelings, and don't appreciate being told they are wrong. Anyone could find themselves in my situation and discover they feel the exact same way.

I read in a book that God knows us, and knows how we learn. So when he has a lesson he wants us to learn he will teach it to us in a way that will be well received. That is such a comforting thought to me. God will get his message through, and he knows I'll listen if it's presented to me in the right way.

This pregnancy has brought some interesting feelings about. To say it's been a struggle is an understatement. I can't believe the baby lived past the first 12 weeks. Life was so awful then. I felt so torn between emotions. I didn't want to have this child alone, but my marriage lie in uncertainty. I wanted my husband to be with me, but having a child with a man I couldn't trust was heart wrenching. I begged to understand why I was having this baby. Why now? We weren't a family. We needed to learn how to be a husband and wife again. How could we have a child together in the situation we were in? At times I didn't know if the baby had survived. At times I thought it would be better if it didn't. It seemed so unfair to bring another child into our world of uncertainty. The baby did live, and that did make me happy. But it still brought about so many more fears and stresses.

Amongst all of this the "Be Grateful-s" rang through my head, and sometimes out of people's mouths. Be grateful you can have kids. Be grateful that it's healthy. Be grateful that you didn't loose the pregnancy. Be grateful, be grateful, be grateful.

I try hard everyday to be grateful. When they couldn't find the heartbeat I knew there was no good way to give that kind of news to a mother. I had tried to prepare myself because I hadn't been that sick. I even assured the doctors that if they had to deliver that news it was OK. When they did the ultra-sound and showed me the heart beat I was so relieved. They gave me the pictures, and I was just so excited. I wanted to show them to everyone. That was my baby, and it was perfect and wonderful!

But sadly I'm a woman, and I can experience more than one emotion at a time. Along with excitement came the knowledge of the hardships this pregnancy would bring. This is just a really bad time to have a baby. We are poor beyond belief. Our future is still very uncertain at this time. And, even though my husband and I continue to work on our marriage, it is still in a kind of volatile state. I'm so excited for my baby, but I can't just be excited. There are so many things raining down on us right now that the reality of our situation has to be faced.

I've come to be OK with the imperfections of our situation. Though I don't understand how, I know things will be OK. I have realized that I can have this baby with my husband, even if the trust in our marriage is a little unstable right now. I am grateful that I can have children. I'm grateful that I have three beautiful little boys already. And I can't wait to hold this new little bundle of joy. I know I'll be tired. I don't know how I'll survive raising 4 kids under 4. But I'm sure I'll learn that I was capable all along. And I'll come out on the other side having learned something new about myself.

I hear stories all the time of people who have lost children, people who can't have children, people who lost everything in a fire, etc. and I thank God everyday for blessing me with so many wonderful things. I thank him for my beautiful kids, who are happy, healthy and strong. For allowing me to have a decent home to raise them in. That, against all odds, we have managed to still piece together something of a life thanks to friends, family and the church. I always feel so sorry that others must be asked to go through the trials they are given. It seems so unfair. Why them? Why am I allowed to enjoy so many wonderful things when they must be asked to endure so much?



I have a pretty good understanding of what I should be grateful for. I remind myself every night when I put my kids to bed. I feel the guilt every time my little boys bring me a flower after I have yelled at them. I feel it whenever I have spent the whole day trying to clean the house, and telling them to go away, and then realizing I didn't even take a few minutes to enjoy them that day. I'm a mom. I feel guilty and grateful every second of my life. But I also feel a lot of other things and those feelings deserve some validation too.

I love everyday I spend with my family. I love watching my three little boys. Though I didn't always think it felt right to have 3 boys and no girls, I really love it. I love that the twins get to have a little brother. And I love the things they are learning because they have a little brother. It just seems to fit so well into our little family. I have also finally figured out why I so desperately want a girl. And it wasn't the selfish, unappreciative, ungrateful version people tried to tell me it was. It was simply because it was something I had pictured my whole life. Something I had saved all my toys from childhood for. Something I felt was so real, I reserved a room in our house, from the very beginning, for my baby girl. Loosing something like that would be hard for anyone. It didn't mean I didn't want boys. It didn't mean I loved boys less. It just meant I had lost something that had felt incredibly real to me my whole life, and I had to come to terms with that part of it.

As far as this baby goes, we do know the gender. But I have just felt so many uncertainties about the baby, that I almost feel like I don't really know. I've told people what it is, but as time goes on it gets more and more awkward. So I've decided to hold off on announcing it online. The pregnancy has been so different. The way the baby sits and moves seems so strange sometimes. The other night I put my hand my tummy and I could feel it moving. Everything felt so real and defined. I have never felt a baby in my tummy in that much detail before. It's so hard to believe it's just inches from touching my hand. It's right there, responding and moving to my touch. It feels so much more real to me in that way than my other babies, and yet I know so much less about it. I can't decide on a name, colors or clothes. I don't see things in the store that just yell at me that they belong to this baby. It's just so different from my other pregnancies in that way. Anyway. . .tune in around September 16 if you want to find out what we had!

Silly Complex's

Motherhood brings on a lot of unexpected things. I think some of the most unexpected things for me are those silly little thoughts and complex's. What's most interesting is, when faced with certain situations, you feel things that you never dreamed you would. For example when we were faced with unemployment a couple Christmas' ago, and needed insurance because of our upcoming bundle of joy, we talked about my husband enlisting in the army. I, of course, felt the expected things like nerves, being anxious and wondering if I could handle being an Army Wife. But, along with that, came a feeling that people might think I was selfish to risk my husbands life just so we could have money and benefits. I don't know why I felt that way. I certainly don't think that of any woman I know who's husband has joined the army. I mostly just admire them and their strength. But still I felt it, and I never expected it.

I can't say I ever expected wanting to be pregnant-- and I mean ever. Nor did I expect wanting another baby so soon after having twins. But here I am with three kids, 18 months apart. It's not something I would recommend, but I have to say I personally like it.

Now that I have been pregnant it's hard to go back to those days of simply having a monthly cycle. Now so many mixed emotions have to come with my monthly gift. Even now, when I may be on my way to thinking of another baby but certainly not ready for another pregnancy, I find every month I'm anxious to know if that lovely thing will show it's face. It doesn't help that the symptoms are the same. I get moody, thirsty, my chest swells a little, tired, etc. These signs show their face and I start calculating when my last period was. I'm usually a week away. Then the tension starts.

"Is it going to come? Do I want it to come? Will I be happy or sad if it comes?" These are the questions I always ask myself.

Usually it's right on time. I can handle that. I know it isn't our time to be pregnant and I'm OK with that. But then there are the months that it's a little late.

"Just take a test," my husband says.

I hate taking the tests. I don't like to take them unless I'm 95% sure they will say yes. I don't know why. I'm really not ready for another pregnancy. But even so, it's the same now as it was right after I had the last one, I don't like to see the negative result on that test.

This happened this month. I finally decided to take the test. I was pretty late. Seconds after the test read negative my monthly gift showed up. I mean really. Does taking the test somehow trigger it? Not only did I waste the money, but I wasted emotional stress.

Sometimes I wonder if I feel this way because my moodiness and tiredness being linked to bringing another miracle in this world would at least bring about a greater sense of worth.

It's bad enough that each month I have to face the fact that my emotional outbursts have no merit, but I've also been struggling with being a little backed up lately and this brings on another whole set of fun complex's. Realization of this problem came about when it got so severe one morning I visited the emergency room. Ever since I've really had to watch my diet and try to take in a lot of fiber. The problem is no fun, and one of the most embarrassing things I've had to deal with yet. But that's not the worst part. Along with it comes nausea, aches in my hips and back, hot flashes and movements in my tummy. This makes the problem itself much more difficult to face. Feeling pregnant is so much easier to handle when it's about bringing a child into the world-- not about being unable to go to the bathroom.

Another complex I'm facing lately might seem a little strange to some. I have three beautiful boys. And I mean beautiful. I know this sounds like bragging but my motherly adoration's have been confirmed on several occasions. My OB commented on the twins all the time. He even said they could date his daughter. All of my boys have been mistaken for girls on several occasions. And I get told a lot that they should be in a magazine.

My youngest one in particular is one of the most beautiful babies you've ever seen. I used to look at him when he was a newborn and just think, "You are so nice to look at. I could just look at you for hours."

He has fair skin, blue eyes and blonde hair. He gets mistaken for a girl even more than his brothers did. The problem with this is that he was supposed to be my girl. When I got pregnant with him I just knew I was going to have a girl. OK maybe I didn't know it would be a girl, but another boy just didn't sound right. When I found out he was a boy my heart dropped. Not simply because he was a boy, but because I felt I had lost my girl. When we finally met him last September I just looked at him and thought, "I'm glad you're here. And I'm glad you're not a girl, but it was just so hard to get you here. Couldn't you have brought a sister with you?"



I don't spend my days wishing he was a girl. There were very colicky times when I may have wished I hadn't had that crazy idea to get pregnant. But I honestly don't wish him to be a girl. But still when he's mistaken for one my heart sinks a little. Here these people think I have two boys and a girl when really I don't know what it's like to have a girl at all. To them I do, but I know I don't.

Sometimes I look at him and say, "You're just too pretty to be a boy."

I get a little sad again. Sometimes I find it hard to look at him. I know that sounds crazy but it's true. I guess it just reminds me that, pretty as he is, I still don't have a daughter and I may never have one.

We've had a rocky road this baby and I. When we first met I wasn't sure if he wanted to be a part of our family. We struggled through the first 3 months. Both hoping things would get better. I let his Dad take on a lot because I just didn't have the patience I needed for him. He wanted constant attention. He always wanted to be held, couldn't be left in a room alone and just seemed really needy compared to his brothers. I'm just not that type of mother. I like kids that can entertain themselves. That can be content while I get a little work done. I play with my kids, but we can all enjoy it more if I'm not thinking about all the stuff I need to get done. When we came out of the colicky and indigestion haze I found I had a son who was completely enthralled with his mother. How this happened? I do not know. But I'm glad because it helps me feel that I wasn't so terrible to him. Maybe there were moments of love and happiness. He some how came to feel safe and content with me amid all the screaming and crying. And that brings a little comfort to me.

I love all my boys. Most days I'm perfectly happy raising three gentlemen. Even if sometimes my silly little complex's say otherwise. I can't ignore them. It's probably not a good idea to smother them. I guess all I can do is just acknowledge them and try to figure out how I really feel.