So, I thought it interesting that two of the people that I’m “friends” with on Facebook chose to comment on my quote from James Frey’s book, A Million Little Pieces. What boggles my mind is (1) I was hardly ever friends with them in high school except by acquaintance and (2) they’ve never commented on anything else I’ve written so why start now? … because it’s a controversial book?!?! My purpose to share what I did, was to make a point about addictions. As I was reading it - it really sunk in and I finally grasped a strong understanding of the devastating effects of an addiction - both for the individual and their family. And as many of you know - this would be really significant to me.
Anyways, the quote from Frey’s book is:
"… addiction is a disease. Whether it is to alcohol or drugs or food or gambling or sex or anything else, it is a disease. It is a chronic and progressive disease. It is classified as such by most doctors and by organizations such as the American Medical Association and the World Health Organization. It is a disease that can be arrested, or placed into a state of remission, but that is incurable. No matter how hard we try, no matter what action we take, addiction, she says [the counselor in a group session that Frey is attending], is incurable. Absolutely incurable" (p. 289).
So, after reading the introduction both from Frey and the publishing company – before I ever started reading the book, I knew there’d be some spots that I’d question the validity of what was written. However, I chose this book on my own – it wasn’t recommended to me – I didn’t even know it was on Oprah’s book club list from several years ago. I simply was at Barnes & Noble, had a gift card from my parents for my birthday – and happen to enjoy memoir books. After reading the title and the back of the book I was intrigued in a couple of ways. The first being that I wondered how I’d be able to apply it to my own situations and the second I wanted to hear the author’s story. After all, isn’t that exactly what a memoir is? – the author’s story?
A similar situation could be said about any of Dan Brown’s books. They are all published as fiction works. However, the author has taken the liberty to chose settings, characters, places, and ideas that can be very real and write his story as though they are real. But let me remind you… it is a fictional work. If Brown’s stories are nonfiction – why then we might as well say that Harry Potter is my neighbor and I went to Hogwarts for school.
Anyways, the first page of text in the book offers a note to the reader from Frey. The copy of the book that I have was published in 2004 and it reads
"I embellished many details about my past experiences, and altered others in order to serve what I felt was the greater purpose of the book. I sincerely apologize to those readers who have been disappointed by my actions… I didn’t initially think of what I was writing as nonfiction or fiction, memoir or autobiography. I wanted to use my experiences to tell my story about addiction and alcoholism, about recovery, about family and friends and faith and love, about redemption and hope… I wanted to write a book that would detail the fight addicts and alcoholics experience in their minds and their bodies and detail what that fight is difficult to win. I wanted to write a book that would help the friends and family members of addicts and alcoholics understand that fight."
It is with this knowledge and first page of text that I chose to purchase and read the book. I’m not writing this blog as a defense to anything that has been done, written, or said. I’m simply writing it to say that everyone is going to have their own unique memoir of a given situation. And the only book that I would say could stand against the test of time, people, and judgment is the Bible.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
It's been almost 3 months ...
All I wanted today was to be left alone with my books, thoughts, and my little fan… since my upstairs bedroom is not the coolest place here at home. But what came to me instead was the dread of my alarm clock reminding yet again that I really should get up and go running or work out, that I needed to fulfill everyone’s expectations that I go to church, and that yet again – I have no day to sleep in and just relax. All of these expectations I put on myself; and yet, I want to blame the whole world. Perhaps that it is really everything combined:
• Facing that Mark got fired from his job leaving me the stress of attempting to make enough money on my meager UBH salary
• That I’m really missing the fact that I’m not pregnant with our baby
• And that it seems that none of my immediate family could pull themselves together enough to celebrate my birthday as one unit … with a cake.
• And I’m falling into the “not fun to be around” version of Becky, that I vowed to myself I wasn’t going to fall into after I had worked so hard to climb out of that pit while on AT.
Really though, as dumb as it seems to be; it was the fact that my immediate family and my mom and dad and sister and me couldn’t (or wouldn’t) figure out how to all be together for one meal so that we could sing Happy Birthday and have some cake and ice cream. My mom says that all of our schedules wouldn’t line up and it just couldn’t happen. I really don’t believe it. Especially since, everybody was off work on the 1st – and I’m sure we could have found time do it sometime on the weekend of the 4th, too.
I don’t even think it’s the concept of not getting together for my birthday… more or less, it was the Susie’s new apartment and moving her took priority over everything else – like it was a super huge thing that had to get accomplished immediately. It’s’ not that I’m not glad that she has her own apartment… it’s a good thing for her and my parents; but it makes me sad to know that when we’re together, life will always revolve around her because no one wants to upset her. (And Susie, I know you’ll probably read this, that’s fine. Just know that you have some responsibility for everything that happens around you – whether directly or indirectly… it is always there. )
When reflecting on my time in the Army, the short ten years that it’s been; I keep coming back to the fact that I am a completely different person when I am in uniform. I’m confident, free, happy, and enjoy life. I’m not afraid to be me and I’m not concerned with the little things in life… knowing that it all works out in the end. Perhaps it’s because I don’t hold the entire weight of responsibility for everything that happens. I am part of something much larger – and someone that gets paid a whole lot more than me makes all the hard decisions. To some extent, housing-lodging-or meals have been taken care… that or I have enough where-with-all to know where to get it from; and I don’t have to worry about money. However, when I’m at home… the entire burden (?) of responsibility for my family lays on my shoulders. It’s heavy, soul-draining, and tiring. I’d like to put it to one of the leaders of the military to try my life on just for a few months and I’ll take theirs. Perhaps it really is just my perspective on the life that I have right now, that needs to change.
I like to look forward to when my Master’s degree is done and contemplate how I can tie in music, the military and mental health. To me it’s pretty clear: I will work with military families on reintegration, and begin my research for a dissertation (for my doctoral degree) on the effects of music in the military culture.
So really, as I type this out, I’m thinking what is it that creates these frustrations in me? My last class that I took in my Master’s programs was on Introspection and how it’s important to apply self-reflection to all areas of one’s life. What conclusion I’ve come to is that what makes the Army, and Active Duty so attractive to me in the first place is that I am never alone; I always have family nearby. And considering that I am a people-person this is immensely important. The other thing is that I know that I am cared for with them. Have you ever been in a situation where there are hundreds of people around you, and yet you still feel immensely alone? That’s how I feel when I’m not with the band. Actually writing that out was kind of difficult to admit – since many people in my life will choose not to believe it. The best birthday gift that I got this year, as crazy as this sounds, was the Care Bears coloring book – colored in by many of the members of the band; with their pictures clearly depicting their own personalities as well! And with that happy memory, and all of those complete ramblings, I’m going to post this, while thinking of additional thoughts for the next time.
• Facing that Mark got fired from his job leaving me the stress of attempting to make enough money on my meager UBH salary
• That I’m really missing the fact that I’m not pregnant with our baby
• And that it seems that none of my immediate family could pull themselves together enough to celebrate my birthday as one unit … with a cake.
• And I’m falling into the “not fun to be around” version of Becky, that I vowed to myself I wasn’t going to fall into after I had worked so hard to climb out of that pit while on AT.
Really though, as dumb as it seems to be; it was the fact that my immediate family and my mom and dad and sister and me couldn’t (or wouldn’t) figure out how to all be together for one meal so that we could sing Happy Birthday and have some cake and ice cream. My mom says that all of our schedules wouldn’t line up and it just couldn’t happen. I really don’t believe it. Especially since, everybody was off work on the 1st – and I’m sure we could have found time do it sometime on the weekend of the 4th, too.
I don’t even think it’s the concept of not getting together for my birthday… more or less, it was the Susie’s new apartment and moving her took priority over everything else – like it was a super huge thing that had to get accomplished immediately. It’s’ not that I’m not glad that she has her own apartment… it’s a good thing for her and my parents; but it makes me sad to know that when we’re together, life will always revolve around her because no one wants to upset her. (And Susie, I know you’ll probably read this, that’s fine. Just know that you have some responsibility for everything that happens around you – whether directly or indirectly… it is always there. )
When reflecting on my time in the Army, the short ten years that it’s been; I keep coming back to the fact that I am a completely different person when I am in uniform. I’m confident, free, happy, and enjoy life. I’m not afraid to be me and I’m not concerned with the little things in life… knowing that it all works out in the end. Perhaps it’s because I don’t hold the entire weight of responsibility for everything that happens. I am part of something much larger – and someone that gets paid a whole lot more than me makes all the hard decisions. To some extent, housing-lodging-or meals have been taken care… that or I have enough where-with-all to know where to get it from; and I don’t have to worry about money. However, when I’m at home… the entire burden (?) of responsibility for my family lays on my shoulders. It’s heavy, soul-draining, and tiring. I’d like to put it to one of the leaders of the military to try my life on just for a few months and I’ll take theirs. Perhaps it really is just my perspective on the life that I have right now, that needs to change.
I like to look forward to when my Master’s degree is done and contemplate how I can tie in music, the military and mental health. To me it’s pretty clear: I will work with military families on reintegration, and begin my research for a dissertation (for my doctoral degree) on the effects of music in the military culture.
So really, as I type this out, I’m thinking what is it that creates these frustrations in me? My last class that I took in my Master’s programs was on Introspection and how it’s important to apply self-reflection to all areas of one’s life. What conclusion I’ve come to is that what makes the Army, and Active Duty so attractive to me in the first place is that I am never alone; I always have family nearby. And considering that I am a people-person this is immensely important. The other thing is that I know that I am cared for with them. Have you ever been in a situation where there are hundreds of people around you, and yet you still feel immensely alone? That’s how I feel when I’m not with the band. Actually writing that out was kind of difficult to admit – since many people in my life will choose not to believe it. The best birthday gift that I got this year, as crazy as this sounds, was the Care Bears coloring book – colored in by many of the members of the band; with their pictures clearly depicting their own personalities as well! And with that happy memory, and all of those complete ramblings, I’m going to post this, while thinking of additional thoughts for the next time.
Monday, April 19, 2010
The unfortunate diagnosis of a miscarriage.
Friday, April 16, was supposed to be a normal, 11 week/1st trimester appointment. However, when Anne, my midwife, couldn’t find the baby’s heartbeat, she told me that there were two options. The first one would be to wait a week or so and come back to see if they could hear it; or to schedule an ultrasound and visibly check the baby. At this point – I was already an hour late for drill; so I opted to have an ultrasound as soon as possible - fortunately they were able to get me an emergency ultrasound appointment for 12:30pm.
During the ultrasound, the tech – Laura, asked if I was sure that I was 11 weeks along – I said I was; she went on to tell me that this baby is only measuring 6 weeks. After hearing that, I knew whatever news came out of that appointment wouldn’t be good. Laura didn’t seem comfortable with what she was seeing; so she had another ultrasound tech come in and verify what she was seeing. Both of them left, and Laura stated that they would have the radiologist review the ultrasound and call me. Well, about 10 minutes later, the phone rang and it was Anne on the other line. She stated that she was very sorry, but that she had some bad news to share with me. The baby was indeed measuring about 6-7 weeks, that it didn’t appear to have a viable heartbeat, and that it appeared to be developing abnormally. And as a result of these findings with the pregnancy, I should expect to have a miscarriage. She walked me through what to expect, although, to be honest, I didn’t have a piece of paper, was entering into an emotional shock, and was pretty upset. It did help to hear over the phone that Anne was upset by the news as well.
After the appointment, I went home and told Mark what had happened and would be happening. After awhile I decided to go ahead and go into drill to try and take my mind off of everything. When I finally got there, I noticed that no one was around – they were all doing the SRP and I really felt that I needed to talk to someone and share what I was going through. There’s something to be said about letting people know your grief and sorrow – not to drag them in with you, but to give you a supportive hug or listening ear when you really need it.
I busied myself helping other soldiers until my commander came into the office and I asked him if I could talk to him. I told him everything that I had found out in the few previous hours. I also told him (even though cognitively and spiritually I know it’s not true), through many heart-felt and deep sobs, that somehow I felt that I deserved this – especially since I considered having an abortion or giving the baby up for adoption when I first found out that I was pregnant. He told me, very lovingly, that this most certainly wasn’t true and that there’s often no known reason for why these things happen. A little while later, his wife said to me “You chose life,” which, I think was probably just what I needed to hear; and I believe that I will hold on to that for quite some time. I stuck through the drill weekend, although I don’t really remember much of it – except being glad that I was playing music with the concert and jazz bands – which certainly helped take my mind off of everything. There really is something very therapeutic about music.
Considering that Mark said I was starting to shut down on Friday night and retreat into my shell, we decided that mostly for my emotional well-being, but also to help overcome any physical pain that I would endure, that I’d take off at least Monday and Tuesday and maybe more if I needed it. At first I was concerned with the amount of time I was going to be taking off of work (3 days last week for Army + 1 day because I was sick – which actually I should have gone to the doctor a couple of weeks ago, but didn’t because of concerns with time off), but then I got to thinking, “Ya know, I work for a behavioral health company; and if they don’t understand that, then tough for them”. .. However, at this point in the grieving process, I was a little frustrated because my boss called me and said that I could certainly use the bereavement policy for three of the days that I am out so that I don’t have any “unexcused absences”. She did state that if I felt I needed additional time off, I would have to call HR to start the FMLA process; which frankly I have neither the motivation nor energy to work through.
If there’s one thing that I’ve learned … in the last 4 short days; is that there is no 1-size fits all formula for grief. It ebbs and flows just like the ocean current. I can be fine for several hours in a row; and then there are times that I just want to curl up in a ball, lay on the bed, and cry – mourn – and process everything that this means. Life isn’t meant to be cut short and I know that for reasons beyond my control and understanding that this happens. But even with that knowledge it doesn’t make this any easier. Although my attitude towards this pregnancy and baby were quite negative to begin with; it wasn’t long until I had fallen completely in love with this baby just like my other two children.
During the ultrasound, the tech – Laura, asked if I was sure that I was 11 weeks along – I said I was; she went on to tell me that this baby is only measuring 6 weeks. After hearing that, I knew whatever news came out of that appointment wouldn’t be good. Laura didn’t seem comfortable with what she was seeing; so she had another ultrasound tech come in and verify what she was seeing. Both of them left, and Laura stated that they would have the radiologist review the ultrasound and call me. Well, about 10 minutes later, the phone rang and it was Anne on the other line. She stated that she was very sorry, but that she had some bad news to share with me. The baby was indeed measuring about 6-7 weeks, that it didn’t appear to have a viable heartbeat, and that it appeared to be developing abnormally. And as a result of these findings with the pregnancy, I should expect to have a miscarriage. She walked me through what to expect, although, to be honest, I didn’t have a piece of paper, was entering into an emotional shock, and was pretty upset. It did help to hear over the phone that Anne was upset by the news as well.
After the appointment, I went home and told Mark what had happened and would be happening. After awhile I decided to go ahead and go into drill to try and take my mind off of everything. When I finally got there, I noticed that no one was around – they were all doing the SRP and I really felt that I needed to talk to someone and share what I was going through. There’s something to be said about letting people know your grief and sorrow – not to drag them in with you, but to give you a supportive hug or listening ear when you really need it.
I busied myself helping other soldiers until my commander came into the office and I asked him if I could talk to him. I told him everything that I had found out in the few previous hours. I also told him (even though cognitively and spiritually I know it’s not true), through many heart-felt and deep sobs, that somehow I felt that I deserved this – especially since I considered having an abortion or giving the baby up for adoption when I first found out that I was pregnant. He told me, very lovingly, that this most certainly wasn’t true and that there’s often no known reason for why these things happen. A little while later, his wife said to me “You chose life,” which, I think was probably just what I needed to hear; and I believe that I will hold on to that for quite some time. I stuck through the drill weekend, although I don’t really remember much of it – except being glad that I was playing music with the concert and jazz bands – which certainly helped take my mind off of everything. There really is something very therapeutic about music.
Considering that Mark said I was starting to shut down on Friday night and retreat into my shell, we decided that mostly for my emotional well-being, but also to help overcome any physical pain that I would endure, that I’d take off at least Monday and Tuesday and maybe more if I needed it. At first I was concerned with the amount of time I was going to be taking off of work (3 days last week for Army + 1 day because I was sick – which actually I should have gone to the doctor a couple of weeks ago, but didn’t because of concerns with time off), but then I got to thinking, “Ya know, I work for a behavioral health company; and if they don’t understand that, then tough for them”. .. However, at this point in the grieving process, I was a little frustrated because my boss called me and said that I could certainly use the bereavement policy for three of the days that I am out so that I don’t have any “unexcused absences”. She did state that if I felt I needed additional time off, I would have to call HR to start the FMLA process; which frankly I have neither the motivation nor energy to work through.
If there’s one thing that I’ve learned … in the last 4 short days; is that there is no 1-size fits all formula for grief. It ebbs and flows just like the ocean current. I can be fine for several hours in a row; and then there are times that I just want to curl up in a ball, lay on the bed, and cry – mourn – and process everything that this means. Life isn’t meant to be cut short and I know that for reasons beyond my control and understanding that this happens. But even with that knowledge it doesn’t make this any easier. Although my attitude towards this pregnancy and baby were quite negative to begin with; it wasn’t long until I had fallen completely in love with this baby just like my other two children.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Perhaps this is a practical joke...
Considering I'm about 10 weeks along and I haven't had any symptoms, this seems like some cruel and unusual practical joke that is being played on me.
With Moriah, I was sick right away from the beginning - had the typical "morning sickness" and found that I couldn't eat eggs or sausage, but craved bacon. I think we went through a pound of bacon a week! Other than those food aversions and cravings, the only other thing that bothered me was toothpaste - it made me gag. (Try brushing your teeth while gagging - it doesn't work well! :-) ) With Ethan, I don't really remember the beginning being horrible, but the last 3 or 4 months I was incredibly uncomfortable. Which would make sense only after I was a few hours into labor and discovered that his shoulders were perpendicular to my pelvis - yikes!
So, now, here I am - with baby number three - some family members may argue that I'm napping more... however, I'd take advantage of nap any day that I could. I haven't really had any food aversions or cravings; and I haven't gained any weight - which considering that the little bambino is only an inch or two long; is a good thing. Maybe on Monday, when I have my first OB appt with the midwife at Woodwinds, I'll be able to hear the heartbeat or see the baby on an ultrasound.
Until then... :-)
With Moriah, I was sick right away from the beginning - had the typical "morning sickness" and found that I couldn't eat eggs or sausage, but craved bacon. I think we went through a pound of bacon a week! Other than those food aversions and cravings, the only other thing that bothered me was toothpaste - it made me gag. (Try brushing your teeth while gagging - it doesn't work well! :-) ) With Ethan, I don't really remember the beginning being horrible, but the last 3 or 4 months I was incredibly uncomfortable. Which would make sense only after I was a few hours into labor and discovered that his shoulders were perpendicular to my pelvis - yikes!
So, now, here I am - with baby number three - some family members may argue that I'm napping more... however, I'd take advantage of nap any day that I could. I haven't really had any food aversions or cravings; and I haven't gained any weight - which considering that the little bambino is only an inch or two long; is a good thing. Maybe on Monday, when I have my first OB appt with the midwife at Woodwinds, I'll be able to hear the heartbeat or see the baby on an ultrasound.
Until then... :-)
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Bets on the Date of Arrival
So, today, while we're waiting for the ham to come out of the oven, my mom said that the date of arrival is going to be October 29th at 2:45pm. Considering that Moriah came in 7 days early, and Ethan was 6 days early; I'm really hoping that this one will stay in pattern with its siblings and arrive sometime around then.
Which, ironically would put the date at October 30-31. And according to my mom, she doesn't want to share a birthday with anyone on the 31st... (since I can of course, control the outcome of this little one!)
My bet is that the little one will come on October 30th at some inconvenient time when there's no one around to watch Moriah and Ethan. I told everyone with Moriah and Ethan that I wanted to have it be just Mark, I, and the doctors in the delivery room... However, with this one, considering it is the last child that I will be pregnant with; I've invited my mom and sister to be there with me. Susie, at first, looked at me like I was smoking crack, but now she's thinking it might be good enforcement of birth control for her... :-) I did warn Susie that with the births of Moriah and Ethan; the anesthesiologist did not arrive in time to give me an epidural... which means yes, there was little to no pain medicine available to me the last chunk of labor. Perhaps I will ask for it sooner this time, rather than trying to endure it until it's too late.
In addition to having everything with this pregnancy be completely new... I'm going to also be seeing a Certified Nurse Midwife, rather than a family doctor and delivering at Woodwinds Hospital in Woodbury, rather than in St. Paul at United Hospital. We're also planning on not finding out what the gender of this baby is... since we have one of each... I'll just bring an outfit of each with me to the hospital.
So, if you'd like to join in on the delivery date betting pool... leave your comment here! It might be kind of fun to see if anyone is close!
P.S. Susie's guess is October 31st, at 4:30pm.
Which, ironically would put the date at October 30-31. And according to my mom, she doesn't want to share a birthday with anyone on the 31st... (since I can of course, control the outcome of this little one!)
My bet is that the little one will come on October 30th at some inconvenient time when there's no one around to watch Moriah and Ethan. I told everyone with Moriah and Ethan that I wanted to have it be just Mark, I, and the doctors in the delivery room... However, with this one, considering it is the last child that I will be pregnant with; I've invited my mom and sister to be there with me. Susie, at first, looked at me like I was smoking crack, but now she's thinking it might be good enforcement of birth control for her... :-) I did warn Susie that with the births of Moriah and Ethan; the anesthesiologist did not arrive in time to give me an epidural... which means yes, there was little to no pain medicine available to me the last chunk of labor. Perhaps I will ask for it sooner this time, rather than trying to endure it until it's too late.
In addition to having everything with this pregnancy be completely new... I'm going to also be seeing a Certified Nurse Midwife, rather than a family doctor and delivering at Woodwinds Hospital in Woodbury, rather than in St. Paul at United Hospital. We're also planning on not finding out what the gender of this baby is... since we have one of each... I'll just bring an outfit of each with me to the hospital.
So, if you'd like to join in on the delivery date betting pool... leave your comment here! It might be kind of fun to see if anyone is close!
P.S. Susie's guess is October 31st, at 4:30pm.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
The Do’s and Don’ts of Taking Care of The Number 3
· Do take prenatal vitamins
· Don’t take illegal drugs or legal ones for that matter unless it’s on the “preapproved” list, including caffeine
· Do drink lots of water (see next one)
· Don’t be far away from a bathroom (I actually had to get up in the middle of the night last night already)
· Do exercise on a regular basis
· Don’t ride horses (is this for the mom, the baby, or because it’s considered a dangerous sport?)
· Do eat vitamin rich foods
· Don’t eat raw meat, deli meat, hot dogs, fish, fish, or fish, raw eggs, soft cheeses, unpasteurized milk, or unwashed vegetables
· Do have Tums or Rolaids nearby for frequent heartburn
· Do get enough sleep
Seriously?! With all of these things that are considered toxic or somewhat harmful how is that so many children were born healthy prior to the 21st century and still managed to survive. And I’m sure that this list isn’t even all inclusive. Is the American population overzealous in their caution; and in turn, causing more children to become sick because the children’s immune systems haven’t had to fight anything? I do wonder how life would be if I were pregnant in the 19th century – ate vegetables out of the ground, drank unpasteurized milk, and probably ate meats that were full of germs.
Now, I’m not advocating for women to abandon healthy eating habits or medical care; however, I’m wondering how common the bacteria listeria is actually found on deli meat? The American Pregnancy Association states that this bacteria can cause a miscarriage; while I’m not doubting this information, I’m really skeptical at the lack of empirical evidence surrounding this issue. If deli meat has been cooked (which since it’s not raw, it’s safe to assume that it has been) how is there bacteria still on it? Did someone leave it out on the counter too long and it got warm?!
Now considering that all three of my children will be born in the 21st century – exposed to all sorts of toxins, chemicals, and medicines – including vaccines; it is amazing that neither of my born children have any health problems. In fact, they are two of the most healthy children I’ve ever met. But in all seriousness, where does one draw the line as a pregnant adult, a mom, a sister, or friend? If the toxins, chemicals, germs, and bacteria that I’ve been exposed to are going to kill me; I’d think I would have had some signs of poisoning already.
I only bring all of this up because I had a migraine for the majority of yesterday and much into the evening making me rather cranky and quite easily frustrated. So, I figured, instead of losing a night’s sleep, I’ll take ½ my dosage of generic Excedrin migraine and see if that does the trick. Sure enough, by the time I woke up to go to the bathroom at 5:15 this morning, my headache was gone! So, if I’ve injured my baby in anyway, at least I’ll know the first thing that I did wrong to contribute to his or her maldevelopment.
· Don’t take illegal drugs or legal ones for that matter unless it’s on the “preapproved” list, including caffeine
· Do drink lots of water (see next one)
· Don’t be far away from a bathroom (I actually had to get up in the middle of the night last night already)
· Do exercise on a regular basis
· Don’t ride horses (is this for the mom, the baby, or because it’s considered a dangerous sport?)
· Do eat vitamin rich foods
· Don’t eat raw meat, deli meat, hot dogs, fish, fish, or fish, raw eggs, soft cheeses, unpasteurized milk, or unwashed vegetables
· Do have Tums or Rolaids nearby for frequent heartburn
· Do get enough sleep
Seriously?! With all of these things that are considered toxic or somewhat harmful how is that so many children were born healthy prior to the 21st century and still managed to survive. And I’m sure that this list isn’t even all inclusive. Is the American population overzealous in their caution; and in turn, causing more children to become sick because the children’s immune systems haven’t had to fight anything? I do wonder how life would be if I were pregnant in the 19th century – ate vegetables out of the ground, drank unpasteurized milk, and probably ate meats that were full of germs.
Now, I’m not advocating for women to abandon healthy eating habits or medical care; however, I’m wondering how common the bacteria listeria is actually found on deli meat? The American Pregnancy Association states that this bacteria can cause a miscarriage; while I’m not doubting this information, I’m really skeptical at the lack of empirical evidence surrounding this issue. If deli meat has been cooked (which since it’s not raw, it’s safe to assume that it has been) how is there bacteria still on it? Did someone leave it out on the counter too long and it got warm?!
Now considering that all three of my children will be born in the 21st century – exposed to all sorts of toxins, chemicals, and medicines – including vaccines; it is amazing that neither of my born children have any health problems. In fact, they are two of the most healthy children I’ve ever met. But in all seriousness, where does one draw the line as a pregnant adult, a mom, a sister, or friend? If the toxins, chemicals, germs, and bacteria that I’ve been exposed to are going to kill me; I’d think I would have had some signs of poisoning already.
I only bring all of this up because I had a migraine for the majority of yesterday and much into the evening making me rather cranky and quite easily frustrated. So, I figured, instead of losing a night’s sleep, I’ll take ½ my dosage of generic Excedrin migraine and see if that does the trick. Sure enough, by the time I woke up to go to the bathroom at 5:15 this morning, my headache was gone! So, if I’ve injured my baby in anyway, at least I’ll know the first thing that I did wrong to contribute to his or her maldevelopment.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Oh man!
I've had a lot of stress in my life over the last few months. I've bought a house, estranged myself from my in-laws, somehow managed to make it through this quarter of my Master's program, and have been working on my relationship with Mark. I was finally getting used to life in the new house and trying to figure out where everything was going to fit when I realized that I hadn't been visited by my monthly friend. So, by the random chance that I might be pregnant, I decided to dig out my pregnancy tests left over from when I had Ethan.
YIKES! The first one that I took on Sunday night was positive. But the test was expired, so it had to be wrong, right? I took another one on Monday... still positive. Ok. This is becoming a possibility and a problem, what in the world am I going to do?! So, I called my mom (practically sobbing) and told her that I had a really big problem. She asked what was wrong, and I told her that I thought I might be pregnant. Let's just say that my her's and my dad's responses weren't any more encouraging. And number three on Wednesday turned positive before I had a chance to even set it on the bathroom counter!
The strange thing was, though, that I didn't have any symptoms... none. I wasn't tired, or sick, various body parts felt completely normal. I kept thinking and comparing the facts of my two previous pregnancies with Moriah and Ethan; and remembering how completely miserable I was. Ugh. After seriously considering my three different options - adoption, abortion, and keeping the baby; I made an appointment to confirm that the three expired HPT that I used must have been wrong. So, I made an appointment to see a doc on Thursday afternoon for a "real" pregnancy test.
Sure enough, number three is on the way; with an unapproximate date of delivery around November 6th.
After ruminating on this predicament for the last week, God has blessed me with a better understanding of how some women feel so stuck that their only option is abortion; yet, he has also changed my heart and helped me come to grips with the fact that I'm going to be a mom to three kiddos, which is kind of exiciting! At least Ethan will be 2 and Moriah will be almost 5 by the time Number 3 arrives.
YIKES! The first one that I took on Sunday night was positive. But the test was expired, so it had to be wrong, right? I took another one on Monday... still positive. Ok. This is becoming a possibility and a problem, what in the world am I going to do?! So, I called my mom (practically sobbing) and told her that I had a really big problem. She asked what was wrong, and I told her that I thought I might be pregnant. Let's just say that my her's and my dad's responses weren't any more encouraging. And number three on Wednesday turned positive before I had a chance to even set it on the bathroom counter!
The strange thing was, though, that I didn't have any symptoms... none. I wasn't tired, or sick, various body parts felt completely normal. I kept thinking and comparing the facts of my two previous pregnancies with Moriah and Ethan; and remembering how completely miserable I was. Ugh. After seriously considering my three different options - adoption, abortion, and keeping the baby; I made an appointment to confirm that the three expired HPT that I used must have been wrong. So, I made an appointment to see a doc on Thursday afternoon for a "real" pregnancy test.
Sure enough, number three is on the way; with an unapproximate date of delivery around November 6th.
After ruminating on this predicament for the last week, God has blessed me with a better understanding of how some women feel so stuck that their only option is abortion; yet, he has also changed my heart and helped me come to grips with the fact that I'm going to be a mom to three kiddos, which is kind of exiciting! At least Ethan will be 2 and Moriah will be almost 5 by the time Number 3 arrives.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)