Timely Words from Far Away

There has been some heart-aching drama in our lives the past couple of days. Oy. Drama. It makes my head hurt. Literally. I feel hung over this morning. I was not planning on posting anything about this, as all concerned in it are already up to date and it has all been Talked About, at length. But this morning as I was perusing my usual blogs with a nice (term used very loosely, this is the dredge brewed at work, after all) hot cup of coffee to perk me up, I came upon this very timely blog post from a woman that I regularly read. She lives way the heck on the other side of this continent, in Western Canada, of all places. But she is wise, funny, a great photographer, and a doting mother. Anyway. She put into words what I think a lot of my friends are feeling today. Please read.

Another Failed "Cure"

Yesterday just sucked. It was emotional, disappointing, and stressful. Sorry, Kristina, the sun didn't help my mood.
G ended up having an ok day. She, according to my mother, wasn't fussy or cranky after I dropped her off in the morning. She played nicely all day and ate well, took a good nap. All good things. She was in a good mood when I finally picked her up at 5:30pm and made us laugh and smile last night. But my heart ached for her all day.
And meanwhile, on the other side of my heart, John had a really rough day. He had a doctor's appointment in the late afternoon. I accompanied him. We waited roughly an hour before anything happened. The long and short of the appointment is this: it didn't work.
See, his GI doctor has determined that he can't find any gastrointestinal issue with John. He says that he has done every test and everything checks out. I have a very hard time believing or accepting that. But, anyway, his new big idea was that there must be some nerve dysfunction in John's abdominal wall that is basically causing his nerves to go haywire and causing the pain. So, he proposed to inject a numbing agent, much like you get at the dentist, into John's chest to see if he could numb the nerves and stop the pain. If it worked, this numbing agent would make him pain free for 4 glorious hours. After that, once they knew it would work, John could get a long acting shot that would work for 3 months. 3 Months! Of no pain! Of a normal life! It's like porn to our ears! Yeah, well, the shots, all eight of them, didn't work. His chest was numb. But that didn't stop his pain.
I think I bought into this concept more heavily than John did. He never seemed all that excited about it. I guess he has heard Dr. Marhaba promise a cure to his pain too many times now to believe it. I was so hoping that this was it! This was gonna work! Life would get back to something resembling normal and John would be free of this, and la de da, isn't spring just around the freakin' corner, too? I am so frustrated and disappointed. I have absolutely no idea what to do next. I think Dr. Marhaba is out of ideas. That may be a good thing, since everything he has done has just caused more problems (he's the genius that triggered John's pancreatitis in June.) But, I don't even know where to turn now. We have exhausted all the local resources. John has contacted his aunt who is a nurse in Brooklyn. She is working to locate a doctor down there who might help. We'll see.
I guess we'll just have to hang in there. Going permanently back to bed doesn't seem to be an option.

Mondays Always Get Me Down (or The Agony of Parenting Week 2)

Yep, it's Monday. The day after I just spent 2 cozy, homey days with my little Chicaboo. And now, I miss her so much, it is making my heart hurt even worse than last week! Don't worry, I promise not to write installments each week about how sorrowful and morose I am feeling. But I gotta tell ya, this working mommy guilt is no laughing matter. And it's not just guilt, it's true heartbreak. This morning G was clingy and crying and all out of sorts. I was sorely tempted to stay home with her, John and I discussed it seriously. She started that last night, actually. I don't know if she doesn't feel good, or her gums hurt from teething, or she is just all mixed up from not having a regular schedule for the past month. I stayed home with her an extra hour this morning before shuttling her to Nanny and Pa's. She went willingly to my mom, but no smile for me. And I have been crying ever since. Kids should come with a warning label. "Caution: may cause manic/depressive symptoms. Beware of constant and inconsolable heartbreak mixed with overwhelming love, joy, and pride." You don't get one without the other.

A Weekend Spent at HOME!

Other than a quick run to the Giant (by my husband, not me!) and some necessary laundry


and shoveling, there was very little going on at our house this weekend. We didn't go anywhere, didn't really even see anybody (my father-in-law stopped by for a little bit, but that's it). There was a lot of this


this, (no makeup even!)


this


and this.


A much needed, and much enjoyed, slow, lazy weekend, with nothing to do. Everyone in the house took naps. We cuddled and played. That's about it. Oh, it was wonderful!

Oh! Rats!

Here I went and posted this awesome blog about my commitment to South Beach and weight loose, and within hours I got all this wonderful support from my even more wonderful friends...and now we aren't going to do it. Now at least. See, this is how I spent half of my day-in the ER with John. Again. He was in serious pain. Which is not what caused the diet flop. Well, directly anyway. We were both doing good (hey, one meal down...does that count?) I had a egg and tomato omelet for breakfast and a handful of nuts for a snack. And John had a hard-boiled egg. He didn't get to eat again. After I took him home from the hospital I went back to work, and I stopped and got a grilled chicken salad, no croutons and low-fat dressing used very sparingly. And another handful of nuts. Go me. But when I got home John told me that he just didn't feel like he could handle doing this diet right now given how much pain he is in. He ate a handful of pistachios when he got home. That's it, cause he didn't know what he could eat and didn't have the energy to find out. AWWWWWW. My poor guy :( He also usually eats cereal or something soft like that when he is really in a lot of pain. Not so SOBE.

So, we decided to put the South Beach idea on the back burner until he visits the pain clinic, which will hopefully be soon! Then, depending on what happens there, we will try again. But thanks for all your support. And enjoy knowing how much I weigh. Haha :) Everything I wrote still applies...we will just hold it over for a few weeks.

By the way, dinner was spaghetti, meatballs, and another salad. Already off the wagon.

The Agony of Parenting

A large piece of my heart is missing today. More than my heart, really, I feel like my soul has been ripped away from me. Dramatic? Maybe. But that is how I feel. Today is the official start of G's life separate from me. She is at her grandparent's today. And everyday for the foreseeable future. I sit here in tears, completely unable to focus on work. How will I be able to be her mother when I will not see her for more than a few waking hours every evening? How can I turn my child over to be essentially raised by someone else? Even if it is my parents. She is our daughter. We should be the ones playing with her, teaching her, rocking her to sleep, disciplining her, loving her all day. What a screwed up society we live in. What could possibly be more important that raising your child? Pouring yourself into this person that you brought into the world, to mold them into a good person, an intelligent, caring, kind person. But our society doesn't allow this to be a priority for most parents. It has driven our culture to make ordinary life so freaking expensive that it is nearly impossible for a family to live on one average income. Both John and I make "decent" salaries, for the occupation we are in and our length of employment. But there is NO WAY we could cut out one half of our income. So, there really is no other option but to both work full-time and allow someone else the privilege of raising our daughter. Because, that really is what it amounts to. It is more than simply "watching" her during the day, or "babysitting." She will spend the majority of her waking hours with someone else. And that means that person will be, in essence, parenting her. This makes me terribly sad. No, don't get me wrong. I am so, so grateful that the people who will be caring for her are my parents. That is truly the best option and G will benefit from it. But, it's still not John and I. And I am also so, so grateful that I work for an agency that truly values and supports families and that has not only allowed G to spend her first year with both parents everyday, but will also welcome her on days when I don't have childcare, or on a random day that I just can't bear not having her with me a moment longer. Oh, I am so grateful. But today, it just doesn't make it any easier. Because a physical piece of my body, this part of my heart and soul, is OUT THERE. Not here. And it is a permanent thing. Not just for today, or this week. For the rest of her life. I just want to take her and stuff her back inside my body and carry her with me forever. Really. Man, does this suck.

South Beach Mondays: Week 1

Oh, how I wish I were talking about Miami. No, the South Beach diet. Here's the background: you all know John has been having health issues for a long time now. One of the side issues discovered in all the bijillion tests that he has endured is that he has a "fatty liver" which is a health risk for developing cirrhosis of the liver. It is partly a genetic thing, but can be mitigated by loosing body fat. So, his GI has recommended that he follow the South Beach diet to try to loose some weight. John wisely decided to wait till after the holidays to start, since SB involves cutting out most sugars/carbs/starches, at least for the first couple of weeks....an impossible feat during December. So, since he is starting in January, and I could stand to loose some weight myself, I decided to jump on board. We start today.

I have committed to update you all once a week as to how this process is going. Not that you all care about how much weight I may or may not loose, but it gives me some accountability to know that I am going to honestly post my weight and progress on the internet. I was raised protestant. We like to do things to cause ourselves a lot of guilt and angst.

Here's the deal: I have no "target weight" or really any expectations. I feel this is best for my psyche, see below for details on that. I just plan to do my best and stick with it as long as I feel comfortable and see what happens. My hope, I guess, is that as the weight starts to come off I will be motivated to continue.

Here's the problem: As some of you may know, I wrestled with an eating disorder for many years. It started when I was 15 and tormented me on and off for over a decade before I was able to get a good handle on it. There were periods in my life when I was totally out of control with it. I have not owned a scale for 7 years, and have been very apprehensive about bringing one into my home. I am worried that constantly monitoring my weight will do bad things to my brain. My saving grace is Giuliana. I made a commitment to her and to myself before she was born that I would not pass this thing onto her through subliminal (and not so subliminal) messages. I am firmly committed to never criticize my weight/looks in her presence. I have only slipped up once since she was born, when she was about 6 months old, and I immediately apologized to her and explained that weight is never a measure of the worth of a person. So, I hope that she will continue to inspire me to both value myself, value my thoughts and my words about my body, and value my actions that she might observe. And I hope that having a healthier Mommy and Daddy will be a good example for her as well.

Ok, here's the nitty gritty. I weighed 157lbs just before I got pregnant with G. That was my healthiest weight in years. I actually bought (and wore) 2 pair of size 8 pants at that weight. 157lbs isn't by any means a perfect weight, but I thought it was pretty good. See, I have this hormonal issue that, along with making it very difficult to get pregnant, also makes it easy to put on weight and hard to take it off. I was on a medication that helped even my hormones out and the weight just melted off. I really didn't do too much different. When I got pregnant, obviously, I gained weight. But I went overboard and gained more than I should have...I gave birth weighing 209lbs. YIKES! That's 52lbs in 9 months. Let me just tell you that G DID NOT weigh 52lbs. She weighed 7lbs, 5oz. That left me with 45lbs! Now, when you give birth you do loose a lot of water weight and some of the other weight does just sort of melt away over the first few weeks. So, I was down to 189lbs about one month after G was born. The last time I weighed myself was at one of John's doctor visits. There was a scale in the room and I hopped on. That was sometime over the summer...let's say August. I weighed 177lbs. 20lbs to go till pre-baby weight. Sigh...

Then we bought a scale yesterday. Here is my South Beach starting weight: (drum roll, please)

172.2lbs

Stay tuned. (God, did I really just post my weight on the INTERNET??)