3 weeks

Today marks 3 weeks that I have been free of the mystery abdominal pain and I can honestly say I am surprised. Pleasantly, of course. The medication has evened out and while there are still a few annoying side effects, I will most likely stick with cymbalta.

I've seen so many good things come from this change. For example, I have been terrified for months (years!) to drive on the highway, especially alone and/or at night. Up until about a year ago I was able to use self-talk to get through the initial anxiety. Then I just couldn't do it anymore. If I knew I'd be going to Denver soon, I'd obsess over how anxious I would feel and worry about even getting into the car. It was debilitating. At times I just forced myself to get through it and I did, but not without the numbness, chest pain and racing thoughts.

Well, dear friends, I am happy to share that this weekend I drove to and from Denver without a second thought! Friday night we left before it became dark. B was really tired and I had no problem driving. The drive was flawless and I felt great! Then today I drove us home. We had wayyyyy too much fun last night and B was not even close to feeling okay to drive. I felt fine and again, managed to make it home without any anxiety or worried thoughts. I cannot even describe the comfort I'm feeling right now. This was such a huge hurdle for me to overcome and it was so much easier than I could have imagined.  The last 5 weeks on meds has made such a huge difference and I am no longer feeling ashamed over it. Some people, most it seems, need this kind of help at some point in their lives. I have no idea how long this will last but I'm accepting that it could be a very long time. And I'm totally okay with that.

rolling in the deep

This post will serve as a way for me to do an emotional brain dump and to also share what's been going on. Many of you know me IRL and that's awesome. You're amazing friends and I love you all so much. And those of you who have been blogging pen pals--you're all amazing too. So here I go, sharing my heart.

As many of you know, I have struggled with anxiety for a very long time. I always feel like I'm on a roller coaster where I have high days and low days, days where my anxiety is through the roof, nearly debilitating and days when I forget it's even there (those days are rare). Over the last few months I've come to a tipping point, a point where I feel like I've been in a constant state of panic, anxiety, worry and depression.

I believe it started to get worse a year ago when my stomach issues began to take over. I feel like I've always had a bit (a lot??) of hypocondria and instantly worry and jump to the worse case senario, although I never (rarely ever) act on it. But the stomach issues were real. After months of testing and finally coming to a few diagnosis, I thought I was in the clear. But emotionally, I had kept the stress pushed down and bottled up, always attempting to put on a tough face and get through it.

Then, four weeks ago, I began to have a new lower abdominal pain. It came out of no where. On the fifth straight day I finally went to the doctor, leaving work early fearing the worst (appendicitis, ectopic pregnancy, ovarian cyst, kidney stones, etc...). After blood tests and ultrasounds I was deemed physically healthy. All of the above had been ruled out and I was shocked. How could I be "ok" and in this much pain?! The pain meds, for the first few days, worked but soon stopped and it was a night out with B just to grab some groceries that changed everything. I had been in pain, took some meds and felt them working, but the pain was still present, full force. I broke down, so frustrated that there was something wrong with me, that I was going crazy. How could this pain be so real to me but causing no physical, obvious issue?  I felt alone and even more anxious and confused.

With B's guidance and constant support, I decided to see a counselor. Maybe if I talked about the stress and anxiety I'd been pushing down for months (years??) would help me heal, both physically and emotionally. I've been twice now. I cry my eyes out. I barely get three words out and I'm a mess. I'm surprised by how little I realized this was affecting me. The last time I saw a counselor a few months after Logan was born I never cried. Nothing I talked about made me feel that emotional or upset. Now, I see that I'm emotionally unhealthy and that releasing that stress through therapy has been and will continue to be very helpful.

But that's not enough right now. Articulating how sad, anxious and depressed I've felt is really difficult and I'm finding that I can't. I have lost motivation to do just about anything and when I get something done it takes all the effort I can muster to do it, especially through this mystery pain that comes and goes. I lack energy and a general state of happiness that I miss more than I can convey through words. And that is why the counseling is not enough. Four days ago I started taking cymbalta. It's for anxiety, depression, and pain. People with chronic pain take it and while it won't take it away completely, it is greatly minimized. While I think I have chronic pain sometimes (a month long is hardly acute), the medication should take care of all three issues no problem. I have no idea how long I will take this, as I have no idea how long I'll continue counseling but what I do know is that I look forward to where these things will take me, how I will be feeling in a few weeks and how that will affect me in the future. My counselor is awesome and I feel very comfortable with her, despite how difficult it is to talk about things. I really want these this to work and I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel a little ashamed. I know that's silly and just one of the many humps I have to get over. It has taken me days to muster up writing this post, all while I wanted to share it right away. This is my blog, my journal and I love writing for all my readers, but I'm also writing for me. I've found great strength in the community that this has brought me and I hope it will continue to do that.

So there it is. That's where I'm at right now.

Bad Dream

Two nights ago I had the most terrifying dream about Logan. Oddly, Logan rarely ever pops up in my dreams, if I happen to remember them. Not sure why, but I always love it when he does. But not this time.

My dream started out with me at work in the hospital. I was in the birthing center chatting with a resident. I reached over him to grab a pen and he said "excuse you!" very rudely. I walked away and suddenly I was in a huge warehouse, like a Home Depot of sorts. There were people everywhere, none of which I knew. Suddenly, I realized I'd lost Logan. Like I forgot he had been with me and then realized he was no where to be found.

I panicked. I was running around everywhere calling his name and asking people if they'd seen him. For some reason I remembered him wearing an orange hat (we don't own an orange hat) and it seemed that every kid I saw was also wearing an orange hat and I could not distinguish if one was Logan or not.

All of a suddenen he walked past me, older, maybe four, and in slow motion we made eye contact and kept walking past each other as if I was truly loosing him. I immediatly snapped out of it and grabbed him and he was back to his small, helpless two-year-old self melting into my arms as my face was on fire from the fear and tears.

I woke up yesterday morning and that dream rocked the rest of my day. I could not focus and I felt this impending fear that something bad was going to happen. Logan and I went to his two year well child check up, which was a nice distraction, and then we had lunch and I took a nap when he went down. I woke up from a dreamless sleep in a much better emotional state, though still shaken.

One of my greatest fears is loosing Logan, no matter in what capacity be it in a crowd, accident, whatever. I know every mother has this fear but the dream seemed to bring some kind of reality to the possibility of something so tragic happening that still has me in a fit of worry. I know why I had that dream. Anyone watch One Tree Hill? I LOVE this show, but the season has started off really crazy and ever since becoming a parent, it is very difficult for me to watch or read anything about children disappearing or being injured, etc. In last weeks episode Brook's hub leaves one of their twin boys in the car on a hot day. He just totally forgot he had the baby with him as he shopped around town and then it ended with the baby heading to the hospital for heat exhaustion. Terrifying! I cried my eyes out, as I am sure this senarior is also a fear that many mothers have. Accidents happen, but if I ever did anything like that I don't know how I could ever forgive myself. The dream was a weird way of me dealing with the emotions I had about that stupid tv show. Yes, I still love the show, but I hate that it had to throw in a story line like that.

Have you had any scary dreams about your children? How did you deal with the fear and anxiety from it?

almost done

Sorry I've kept you all hanging. This was a rough weekend. Friday was my procedure. In case you forgot, I had a colonoscopy and an upper endoscopy. Thursday morning I had my "last supper": one egg over medium and biscuits with gravy. YUM! That was at 9am and for the rest of the day I drank a lot of water and some chicken broth. By the afternoon I felt very hungry. When I get hunger pains, it increases the general abdominal pains that are already there so I was miserable from then on.

I will spare you all the other details of the evening. I was so dehydrated I felt delirious, dizzy, nausious...when I don't eat I get super low blood sugar and even the sugars in the vitamin waters was not enough to make me feel better. I literally felt sick. I was able to get 5-6 hours of uninterrupted sleep, which was nice. I was not expecting that. B got up with Logan so I could sleep until it was time to leave. I managed a shower and some hellos to B's mom who so graciously came up to stay with Logan so B could be with me. Seriously, I have the best mother in law.

We were late. I hate being late. But we had to get gas and drive across town to the surgery center. My head was pounding and even though it had been 26 hours since I had eaten anything, I wasn't even hungry. B was asking me where I wanted to go eat after and I settled on Noodles. Nothing like comfort food to make me feel better.

I checked in and waited. Here is where the anxiety of being drugged to sleep started to wonder into my thoughts. I continued to pray and hold B's hand. He reassured me that everything would be okay and I had to start believing it because there was no going back. The nurse came to get me and B sat with us while she went over a few things. Then he was excused and I was left to undress (totally!) and wait some more. I had an IV placed in my hand and the best part was that she numbed the area BEFORE putting the IV in. I felt nothing. The anesthesiologist came and talked to me about my history and what to expect. Everyone was so calm and reassuring. I was rolled back to the room, nothing more than a glorified office with a giant TV screen. We waited for the doctor to arrive. She was so kind. As she was talking to me, the anesthesiologist put some medicine in my IV that made me feel like I was going to pass out. This was the worst part. I already felt so light-headed from being so dehydrated and I told them I was going to pass out. They both just told me to relax and close my eyes. That's the last thing I remember.

Forty-five minutes later I was back in recovery. B was there and I heard him telling me he loved me. I barely opened my eyes and told him I was dreaming. Seriously, best sleep in a long time! I can't remember the dream, but it was good. It took forever for me to wake up. I felt so tired and just wanted to go back to sleep. The drug wore off quickly and I became more alert. We waited for the doctor to come and go over everything with us. When she did, she showed me the pictures she took of my esophagus, stomach, etc. Everything looked healthy. No weird growths or infections. So now we wait. We wait for the biopsy results. She took several in different places to rule out cialiacs and crohns disease, as well as h-pilori bacteria, among other things. I will hopefully know something by Friday, but it could take as long as next Wednesday.

I tell you, friends, I am so glad that day is over with. I think I thought that once it was done that my pain would go away, but it hasn't. My weekend was spent on the couch watching Vampire Diaries. I'm obsessed! B has been so wonderful in taking care of me. So, we're almost done. Almost to the finish line.

 

2 days

This week has finally arrived. Two days, Friday, I get to take a medicated nap while a doctor tries to figure out what's going on with my stomach. I have not thought about this day until yesterday. I was working and out of no where, so it seemed, I felt my body begin to panic. I was pre-registering surgeries and in the back of my mind started to think about my own impending procedure. Thoughts of being sedated and the unknown flooded my mind. I tried to crush those thoughts away and focus on the patients in my office. The thoughts subsided, for the time, but my body reacted. I felt my chest get tight with heavy pain and my breathing was labored. For a moment I didn't know what to think, but then I realized I was having a panic attack. My body has not reacted this strongly to my anxiety in a long time. I just kept breathing through the pressure and praying that the patient wouldn't notice. Somehow, by the grace of God, I'm sure, I pressed through a rush of registrations.

I'm really quite nervous! I had no idea how anxious I was about this until the attack came on. Talking about it makes it easier and less worrisome. Also, thousands of people go through this procedure everyday. I will be okay! I just keep telling myself over and over. I'm much more calm about it. The only dread I have is drinking the magnesium citrate tomorrow night. YUCK!! Please pray friends, that the doctor finds out exactly what's going on, how to fix it, and that I'm not a crying nervous wreck Friday morning. B's mom is coming to stay with Logan. I love her so much! I feel so blessed to have such great family and friends supporting me through this, including all you blog friends. Bless you all!

The One in Which Tulo Jumps Through a Window

**Warning: there is one graphic image posted below of Tulo post-surgery.**

Our day started out just like any other working Sunday. My alarm went off three hours too early as the last few nights we've had a lovely house guest who has been taking me back to my late night college days. I readied myself. Logan was stirring in his room but was perfectly happy, allowing me time to fix my hair, brush my teeth and let the dogs outside to pee. B was also waking up and as soon as I was ready he hopped in the shower. I brought Logan his milk, changed his diaper and washed dishes.

I was already running late and after kisses and hugs I was out the door. Clocked in at 0659, logged on, turned Adele on Pandora and waited. And waited and waited and waited for SOMEONE to come into the hospital. Three mamas in labor and a few clinicals later I glance up and there's B motioning for me to step out of my office. His face is drained of color, his shoulders are hunched forward and I instantly get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Logan. I ask him what's wrong and he says, "Tulo had an accident". While relief flooded over me that my dear Logan was safe and sound I was instantly confused. "What kind of accident?"

And then B explained. We had a close friend Amy babysitting (and my friend C from out of town still sleeping) at our home. She was in the living room on the floor playing with Logan. Tulo was nearby and suddenly bolted down the hallway and out the window. No joke. Honestly, we don't even know if that was the real reason he jumped through a solid-panned window. Something may have scared him, although Amy says there was nothing strange going on outside. We'll never know the real reason.

Amy quickly went into fight or flight mode, handing Logan off to C while she loaded Tulo into her car and dashed him to the emergency vet. B met her there. They've both said how calm Tulo was acting. He wasn't crying, rather he was giving kisses and wagging his tail, a sign of shock and adrenalin heavily running through his system.

The staff at the emergency vet quickly went into action, taking Tulo into the back and giving him some pain meds as they began to clean him up. At first look the most sever injury was to his right hind hip, a laceration nearly 9 inches long from his hip down to his knee and nearly 4 inches deep into the muscle. Upon further investigation once he was under general anesthesia the surgeon discovered Tulo had also severed his tendon. Only as I've read through what kind of injury this is today have I learned that healing a tendon is a very long, painful process. Thankfully it was a very clean cut and they were able to repair it. This means Tulo has to wear a cast, as if the tendon is a broken bone. The length of time is unknown but at least 6 weeks with 2-4 dressing changes in that time frame. Once the cast is off he will have to do some physical therapy. I have no idea if it will be therapy we can do at home of if we'll have to see a professional.

Tulo coming out of anesthesia, very drunk looking here.

Made it home! Resting in a comfy area we made for him. He also sustained lacerations on his left paw and lower leg which is seen wrapped in this photo.

The laceration covered with lidocaine patches and cast covering the severed tendon. On his front leg seen here is another patch covering a laceration and his nurses drew hearts on the tape. LOVE THEM!

But as I sit here and listen to Tulo whine I am full of thanks. Thanks that it was not worse. He could have lost his leg or even died. Had Amy been totally alone it would have taken twice as long for Tulo to get to the vet so I'm thankful for our friend C for being there to watch Logan, which was a spontaneous, unplanned visit to begin with. I am thankful that Tulo was strong enough to come home with us tonight and that his doctor trusted us to take care of him as his pain comes and goes. I am so thankful for all our family and friends who instantly began to pray, send happy thoughts, and condolences to us via facebook, text, and voice mails. I love you all. You've held us up as our spirits sank. I'll update in a few days.

 

Superfast Jellyfish

I'm in LOVE with The Gorillaz Planet Beach album and as the title suggests, this is just a superfast update in bullets.

• Logan is sick again. Make that FIVE times since May.


• He weighs 22.6 pounds (10th%) and is 34" (80%) tall!


• I love my job. It's wonderful and only when Logan has been up all night and I've been visiting with an old college friend do I have a hard time coming in.


• I have been updating my Midwife 101 blog 2-3 times a week now. I just posted a book review. Check it out.


• I'm bummed that the photo I entered last week was not even a honerable mention. THOSE EYES. Wow...bummed.


• My bestie bought me The Help for my kindle and so far I am loving it.


• I am looking forward to: having all of next weekend off, labor day weekend (sun,mon) off, the Hanson concert on Sept 17th, and fallish weather.

On Losing our House

Yep. You read that right. We're going to lose our house. This has been one of the hardest decisions that B and I have had to make in our nearly 3 year marriage. Living with my parents has been a blessing, but it is not fair for any of us to continue having a lack of privacy and space invaded. With no clear end in sight we made June 29th the deadline for the bank to give us an acceptance letter and now that we are 5 days away from that date we have not heard a word. We're heartbroken. Buying our first home has been a goal since the day we said "I Do". This house, based on our current needs and wants, was going to be perfect for us. No upgrades or improvements needed. A park in the front yard. A fenced back yard for the dogs and Logan. A HUGE kitchen for me to cook in. Three spacious bedrooms. No complaints!

The short sale process has been a nightmare. I would NEVER recommend this to anyone. Ever. No matter how great the house is. That is, unless you have the time and financials to wait. We don't. We cannot wait any longer simply on a prayer that we *might* get an acceptance letter whether it's next week or next year. We just can't keep holding out.

The plan, as June 29th approaches and soon passes, is to find a house to rent. There's more to this and as this date comes and goes I will share more. Thank you to everyone who has been keeping this entire process in their thoughts and prayers. It's just not meant to be.

No Bubble Boy Here

 
On Friday morning we loaded our happy boy into the car and anxiously drove into town. We were on our way to the allergist and could not be more uncertain of what would come of the testing. Knowing full well how allergies run in our families I was convinced he would be allergic to something.

B and I took separate cars. Logan and I stopped at the most incredible donut shop between here and NYC for some yummy breakfast and coffee. Crumbs littered his seat and mouth. Satisfying Logan's needs is one of the greatest feelings as a mom. I cannot always know exactly what it is he needs or wants, which is why this visit was so important. I needed to know what was causing such a horrible cough in him.

We arrived early after dropping one of our cars off at the shop. Logan ran around playing with the toys and moving magazines around. After the paper work was complete we were escorted to a small room with a nice view. Logan played with cotton balls while B and I paced around, looking at each other knowing what the other was thinking.

We went over everything with the allergist and after she left her assistant came in to draw on Logan's back and flick him with 10 different allergens ranging from cotton wood trees to fish and peanuts and grasses. That was the worst part. Using plastic tooth picks dipped in the allergen she quickly nicked Logan's back and it did not take long for crocodile tears to flood Logan's face. I held it together while I helped hold him together. We helped each other out.

And then we waited. The assistant put Finding Nemo on and the distraction was nice. Keeping Logan from scratching his irritated back was not difficult. I expected to see his entire back flare up as I had last weekend when I laid him in the grass. But that didn't happen. Two controls were on his back, one with a histamine he was supposed to react to and one with only saline on it. He only reacted to the histamine control and his slight reaction to the saline control was the same as fish. Neither were big enough to declare an allergy to fish, yet. Other than those few reactions Logan is not allergic to anything. Not cats, dogs, weeds, grass, peanuts, eggs....nothing. Like his mama and dad he has sensitive skin which is why his back flared up in the grass last weekend.

Relief flooded us and while we are still unsure what is causing his cough we know it's not an infection and it's not allergies. PRAISE THE LORD!

 

 

 

 

Blackout

>Several months back I paid a visit to my doctor for a check up. We chatted about the normal womanly things you chat about at such an appointment. After much trepidation I finally blurted out my growing issues with anxiety. BUT--there was no way I was going back on meds, at least meds I'd have to take every day. We discussed a few options, all with the grand side effect of sleepiness. I chose Clorazapam, a drug which can be taken as needed. I have taken it a hand full of times, each time being worse than the last. I was prescribed 1mg and after the first two times of taking it I started to split it in half. I did not like how I felt more than drunk and was almost embarassed by the loopy mood it would put me in. No worries though-I always took it at night once Logan was in bed and B was around to keep me from falling into walls. Seriously, that is how serious this drug is.

So a few nights ago I was feeling terrible. I'd had a rough day and needed something to take the edge off. I rarely resort to alcohol for something like that unless I am actually in a good mood and want to relax like most normal people. Anyway, I took one pill and waited. The wait is not long. Within 20 minutes I am slurring my words and wobbeling around. The med also causes me to feel very tired but not knock-me-out tired--until the other night. I was so excited to watch 19 Kids and Counting. It had been MONTHS since I had seen an episode and the moment I sat on the couch I leaned over to lay down and was out. Literally, blacked out. I remember very breif things like watching the Duggers ski in Colorado and hearing B and my mom comment on how the med made me so tired. That's it.

Now when it comes to drugs and alcohol I am very conservitive. I had my fun in college with alcohol and even then I've NEVER blacked out. I have never been so drunk that I have forgotten details of an evening. Ever. This freaked me out. B told me in the morning that he kept checking to make sure I was still breathing. REALLY?! I was that out of it that my husband was scared for my life?! That's just not right.

I have not taken another pill since and I don't plan to again. If I really need to then I will split it in half. The one time that I did do that I felt great. Not even tired. It took the edge off just as I had wanted and I was still able to enjoy a movie.

I'm only sharing this because it has been on my mind for several days. I am embarrassed as if I had been binge drinking and passed out drunk. I literally felt wasted and I don't like that feeling. Drugs are no joke and I know that the dosage is just too high for me. My anxiety is very circumstantial which is why I won't take anything daily.

If you have taken this medication what has your experience been?

On Allergies

>

I've only mentioned briefly about delaying certain foods for Logan due to high allergen ricks especially since B and most of his family members are extremely allergic to cats and fish. Up until Logan was a year old, as most pedi's would recommend, we held off on the top five foods that are thought to cause some of the worst food allergies in kids. Peanuts/tree nuts, cows milk, fish, honey, and eggs. Since Logan turned one he has tried a little of everything on that list except fish and and eggs. I've tried to give him eggs and he hates them. Spits them right out! He will not have fish until he is much older, at least 3-4 years of age. 

I only have a few allergies and sensitivities to things, the two biggest being Vicodin and grass. I get seasonal allergies sometimes but nothing too serious. Vicodin makes my face itch and grass makes me break out in a rash. Between the two of us, B and I both have very sensitive skin. I've always used a special brand of laundry detergent along with hair and body products. I realize there are kids out there with much worse allergies and I am so thankful that Logan does not seem to have any to speak of, until last week that is.

Going on six months now Logan has had a horrible cough. It seemed to come and go and I thought mostly with cutting new teeth but now it is so bad he wakes up in the night in a fit nearly choking on his spit. It is scary to watch and listen to so on Friday he had his 15 month well baby check up and we talked about the cough. No fluid or wheezing in the lungs as well as no other symptoms to indicate and infection of some kind. I was very relieved to hear his lungs are clear. His doctor has referred us to an allergist whom we will see on Friday. 

My mind is running wild wondering what could possibly be causing this horrible cough and my worst fear would be the dogs. We would be so heartbroken if Logan was allergic to the dogs or any pets for that matter. Everyone in our family has a dog or a cat. Not to mention he LOVES the dogs. He goes up to strangers' dogs and says hi. Teaching him NOT to do this will be hard! Also, I took him to the splash park today and laid him on the grass for a moment. When I picked him up his back flared up in red marks like my skin does with grass and my heart sank. 

I am actually looking forward to this appointment. I know that we will be able to find out of he has allergies to anything out there, including fish, and will know how to go from there. Please pray that it's NOT the dogs! Or anything serious for that matter. Hope you're all doing well.

When do I say "enough"?

>I need your help friends. I mean, really need your help. I'm asking all you regular lurkers out there to actually leave me a comment and tell me what to do. I know, shocking.

As I mentioned in my last post Logan has been in daycare a total of THREE days and has been bit by three different children FOUR times. Yes, one child actually bit him twice, once on each arm. Since the initial shock of my child being injured while in someone else's care by another child has lessened over the last few days, my anger over the consistent occurrences has only increased. Taking Logan to daycare to begin with was a big deal. I was worried that he would miss me, that he would realize that everyone in the room was a new person and I had not been there to help him get aquatinted and comfortable with his teachers and the other kids. I worried that he would not take a nap, that he would sit alone in a corner and not participate in activities, and that he would cry and cry and cry. My heart ached with these concerns as the days approached and not once did the thought of him getting hurt cross my mind. I'm totally aware of his risk of falling and bonking and bruising from play but never from another child. So when I brought him home and told my mom and B that Logan had been bit TWICE, we were all fuming.

My heart broke thinking about him being hurt and wondering where I was to make it all better, to kiss his boo boos and hold him until he felt better. Logan happens to be a little dramatic when he gets hurt and while I do my damnedest to NOT help fuel that by gasping or instantly running to his side, he still cries. I want him to know that not every single time he bonks his head does it mean he's actually hurt. But this is not what this post is about. This is about other kids biting my kid at daycare.

So here is where I need your help. I need to know what to do. I've worked in daycares before and I don't remember kids biting each other. Sure there were squabbles and such, but I do not recall a single child ever having an issue with other children so much so that he was going home every night with a new bite or bruise caused by another child. I'm sure if I had, that I would have had a serious talking to about how our supervision of the children needs to improve, even though we were there. Anyway, I'm lost. I have made countless mistakes as a parent and I don't want to just jump ship from what could be a potentially good daycare just because Logan is being bit by other children every.single.day. It's not like the teachers are encouraging it and the director has been very honest with me about what they are doing to try and prevent it. Even so, he is still being bit. He has a buddy in his class and they've both been in the class the same amount of time and he has not been bit. I don't get it. The teachers are telling me that Logan is not the only child being bit. So what the hell is going on?!

Logan is not the youngest kiddo in his class, but I would put money on him having the fewest teeth. He has been a late bloomer with getting his teeth and I would be livid if BECAUSE he has been getting bit that he himself adopts that form of ill toddler communication. LIVID!! My mom has been in early childcare for 20+ years but does not have recent experience with a group of 1 year olds. She works with 3 year olds, kids who have words and understand directions, etc. Regardless, she cannot believe this is happening every day. I cannot believe it. As I said, I am trying not to bail right away and blame the daycare. Finding another daycare is a huge pain in the ass and there are several perks of him going to this particular one, the main one being he is a block away from where I work.

So please help me out here! I am at a loss. Obviously Logan quickly forgets what is happening to him and so far none of the bites have broken the skin. I've notified his doctor and have yet to hear back. Thank you SO MUCH for any and all advice you can offer! No more bites for my baby!

The Almost Accident

>Re-posted from my other blog, My Inner Monologue:

Today we decided to head to Denver to find our "new to us" car. We had a pretty good idea of where we were going but did not in fact do our proper homework on the dealer and after reading several bad reviews online via my 3G Droid we decided otherwise. And "otherwise" was nothing. We had no plan. All this chaos had me in a flighty tizzy. But we managed and decided to head home. B had been driving around most of the day so I offered to drive us home. We were on the highway going about 80MPH. All of a sudden cars in front of me were screeching to a halt. Not like I have ever seen before, either. I mean cars were veering to the median to avoid one another and we were thisclose to being in a serious car accident not once, not twice but THREE TIMES!! And for what? I kept trying to see if there was an accident up ahead or a stalled car in the right lane. Nothing. It was not until a few miles later on and several continued stop and gos did we finally see WHO was causing this near-deadly accident. It was an old man. He was barely driving 40MPH. I wanted to call 911 right then and there to get him off the road but my heart was still beating out of my chest and I was still swearing all kinds of horrible words in my mind. I was panicking. I'm still panicking. My heart is still racing. My chest is still tight and I am still struggling to breath at a normal pace. I want to throw up and go to sleep all at the same time. My jaw is tight with tension and work is the last place I want to be. I don't think there is anything in Linda's book that can help me now. I have prayed many thanks to God for sparing us and everyone else from something that could have been so tragic, however I cannot stop replaying those moments in my head. It's eating away at me and I just want to cry.

On his age and anxiety

>I posted a few days back about how I feel like I am going crazy. I still do, but things are getting better. Logan is just at a new stage in development where he is learning to express himself and I love that. Adapting to the way in which he does so is how I have been able to make things better. I meet his needs but don't give into the things he wants which he can't have (computer cords, phones, our cups of beer, etc). He gets very frustrated very quickly but as long as I can distract him away from whatever it is, he is okay. I even "voice" his feelings for him, which seems to help. Sure he may not get it yet, but in the long run I know this will be a fantastic way for him to learn what certain emotions mean. For example, when he reaches for a cup, whether there is beer in it or not, and I move the cup so he does not spill or drink the contents and that upsets him, I simply move him away from that area and say, "Logan I know that frustrates you and makes you sad. Let's play over here with your legos instead." Most of the time he moves on without any tears, but about once a day he gets a little louder with determination. It's not easy being a parent and no one ever said it would be. It simply amazes me how each stage can seem "so hard" but then you get out of it into the next one and it's a whole new world of hard. And when I say I hard I don't mean I too am just as frustrated. It's just different. I'm a parent for the first time ever and until we have more children, every milestone and developmental stage Logan passes into and out of will be new and different.

I love being Logan's mom. He is an incredible joy and I know that in the last few monthly updates I have said that he has been saying "mama" with distinction. Well...not until THIS week did I really know what that meant. I can look at him and say "say mama" and he says it. Just this morning B let me sleep in and I could hear him fussing and saying "mama" over and over again. I came out to say hi. He looked at me with the biggest smile on his face and he said "mama!" and reached for me. It was a truly beautiful moment.

Of the amazing 13 months I have been a mother to Logan, THIS stage right now is by far the most FUN and HARD of them all. He is so into everything and wants to see and touch everything in his little world. He understand what we say and has the silliest reactions. Just tonight his uncle was holding him and he said "Your mama is weird" and Logan just shook his head at him and looked at me. It was so funny!! Six months ago I would have still said that the first 6 weeks were the hardest. Well now I see they were actually the easiest. Sure I was still healing and sure I was getting very little sleep. But Logan was a sleepy little bug who just laid there. He was not mobil yet and mobility changes everything. I love that he is so so close to walking. He is just starting to stand alone and realize that it's okay. He's still a little nervous but he's getting there.

Overall, I am doing better. I have had a very anxious last few weeks and B has been so loving and supportive, always reminding me that I am a great mom and wife. Those words are the only thing holding me together. I am still trying to get over this mountain, but I'm close. I'm hoping that a few other things in my life will change very soon which I am sure will bring me a lot more joy and happiness.

Holding Back

>Ahh. I feel like I need to word vomit all over this page, for everyone to hear and feel what I'm going through, for someone to understand and walk beside me. But I can't. I mean...I won't. That is one of the downsides of having a public blog. I know I could very well get a private blog or just journal wherever, but I get so much joy out of actually sharing me with all of you, that writing for no one would not feel nearly as fulfilling or meaningful as to why I need to write.

A lot is going on. It's more than just being a working mom and more than leaving Logan. It's more than wanting to go back to school and more than finding other momma friends. So much more that if I allow myself to delve into it here and now, I may be making myself vulnerable to readers (unknown IRL readers, of course) who may not be ready for what I have to say.

What I WILL say, is that I am healthy. Am I happy? Not really...am I depressed? A little... am I going to be okay? Yes. It breaks my heart to say that I know more than a handfull of people who are struggling so much right now, for whatever reason, that it makes me wonder if the appocolypse is right around the corner (I kid...kind). But really...WTF God! I mean...EVERYONE has it hard right now and if you don't, I sure as heck hope you don't take anything for granted. My prayers are with everyone who has been going through tough spots and I thank you for praying over us. The bloggie bond is real and I feel so close to you, my readers. But there is a line I must not cross...not yet. HOWEVER, I would be more than happy to discuss things in a private email (in profile).

I want to lift each of you up this weekend as we head into the week before Christmas. I pray we are humbled by the reason, our Jesus Christ, and that we're all given peace in our troubles. Sometimes, I feel like all I do in my free time is pray and if you have ever felt like that, it's just as exhasuting as working! lol... Please have a wonderful weekend...we are heading out tonight on a DATE NIGHT to our company Christmas party. Today I have prayed that I will win a Kindle...shoot one up there for me! :)

Faker

>Today was one of those days where I just wished I could have walked away or pushed my "easy" button and been done with it.

I am faking the nice, smiley, happy-to-help, willing to bend over backwards, etc. face and should win an Oscar for it. I hate what I'm doing right now and I just want to stay home with my baby.

Hey, but at least I'm faking it, right?

Not a Happy Post

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If my last post was not enough of an indication that I am not feeling like my spunky self, let this one be it.

I am in one of the worst funks of my life right now. Everything feel right and wrong all at once.

I am so proud to be a mother.

I love Logan more than anything.

Logan's smile picks me up but lately it is barely enough for me to push everything else aside.

Work is a disaster right now. People are dieing, people are leaving. I effing sucks. Nothing is consistent. Communication sucks. I have no desire to be there.

I am exhausted. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally.

I cry almost every day.

I actually can feel how depressed I am. It's like anxiety, but a much bigger void. Hard to explain. Don't worry, I have help. I talk to someone. And as soon as I can get my butt out the door, I'm running.

I just want us to have more money. I want to find something that I can do to make money and be with Logan. I am just....ugh.

Until I get things figured out, I am taking a break from blogging. All this is just too personal for me to share with everyone right now. I'll come back when I'm ready.

oh this again

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It is November 10th and the teperature finally dropped below 60* long enough to give us a dusting and when I say dusting I mean it is still snowing. And I love it. Watching snow fall is so peaceful and that is what I need so much right now.

Today was rough, or more so, the afternoon was rough. Work was fine and then someone asked me how I was doing and BAM I lost it. I sat at my desk and wiped tear after tear away as I went on and on about missing my sweet babe. About how depressed it is making me to have him in someones care that is not my own.

I am learning very quickly that being a mother tests you in so many different ways that each time you come to something challenging you think, "This is the hardest thing I've gone through--as a parent--or ever." And I know that those challenges will only change as time goes by. This challenge just happens to be one that is eating me through the core. The night Logan was admitted to the NICU I felt like there could be nothing worse or harder. I grieved it for the first few months. Then I had to quit nursing him and that topped the NICU stay. I grieved that for months and I STILL miss it. Then I had to go back to work. At first, that was not too hard. I missed Logan, but he was at an age that was still easy. He wasn't mobil, he wasn't doing much of anything, really. Now he is doing something new and different everyday and I am missing most of it. This grief and the ache in my heart is yanking at every last fiber of my being. You know like when you pull your hair up to a pony and there is one tiny piece you can't find but is pinching you? Yeah, it's like that times a billion. I am going to do everything I possibly can to work towards being a stay at home mom. It won't be for a few months, but I am going to bust my ass until then. Heck I may even get creative and start an ETSY shop. Who knows.

I know I have been airing my heart on here over this strief for a few weeks now and if you keep reading til the end, I thank you. It means a lot to me. I have to write it down. I have to have a place to share it. Not for you, but for me. Please continue to keep this whole situation in your prayers. They are helping me stay strong and not just quit at the drop of a hat and leave B stranded to fend for our family with very little to go on. I would never do that. But I am breaking. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

SOMEONE ELSE IS RAISING MY BABY!!

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AM I SCREAMING LOUD ENOUGH? CAN YOU HEAR ME???

Aside from the three and a half hours I spent taking the hardest test known to man, I have been crying all day. I cried on the drive to the test as I listened to old praise songs I had not hear in years. I cried on the way home because...I don't know why. And then I cried all afternoon while I talked to my mom. And once those water-works began, there was no stopping them--until I stepped into my house and say a giant pile of doggie diarrhea on the floor. I quick laid Logan down for his nap and spent the next 20 minutes scrubbing my carpets. The stench totally threw me off my crying game.

So, why so sad Sarah? I am so angry. I knew why all along, but it was not until my sweet momma said it for me.

I'm mad that I have to be a working mom.
I'm mad that I have to spend my day making someone else happy, and not myself or or my son or my husband.
I'm mad that the person who's taking care of Logan while I'm working treats me like a child.
I'm mad that I am tired all.the.time.
I'm mad about our financial situation.
I'm mad that Tulo seems to have tummy issues every other week.
I'm mad that we have no money.
I'm mad about how mad I am.

I want to be happy. I put on a damn good face at work and for my friends and even my family. I'm done. My heart is too broken for me to keep pretending that everything is just peachy. I want, more than anything in the world, to stay home with my son. To be the only person, along side his daddy, raising my son. The only person witnessing all of his firsts: the first time he pulls himself up, the first step he takes, the first word he says with meaning. There is no other person worthy of those things...so why am I paying someone for it? We don't have a choice. I have to work. There is no other option out there. And then, I will be in school. Working on school full time. For some reason, the sacrifice of going to school so easier to stomach than it is to work. By the time I'm teaching, Logan will be in full time preschool and our schedules will be the same. I can't wait for that day to come. I never knew how hard it would be to be a working mom. It has certainly become one of the hardest things I've ever had to endure and it's just about doing me in. I don't know what to do. I'm at the end of my rope. So say some prayers.

Crazy Talk

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Ohmystars, as Miss Pettijohn says. Today has been horrible. The stress from the test has been so intense that I am hardly sleeping. I just lay in bed wide awake thinking and rethinking formulas and vocabulary words. Then, once I am finally ready to drift off, Logan awakes in pain. Those poor gums are just tortured and not just one, but two at the same time. Ouchies. THEN I have to go to work. I wake up at 5am, take B to work, get myself ready, get Logan ready, drop him off and go to work. Answer phones, help residents and staff and TRY to smile. Ha. My eyes are burning and I can hardly keep my head off the table. It was a terrible day and I am going to rest for awhile tonight before cracking open my GRE book. I have determined something about this whole thing: It is not teaching me the math, or the vocab, or whatever. It is teaching me how to answer the question a backasswards way so I don't have to actually do the math itself. Whelp, now if I was just a wee bit smarter in that department (trust me, a wee bit is a HUGE understatement) then I might, just maybe, get a few answers right. B helped me answer 4 practice questions. We got one right. So there's my fate people. I am just praying that the GRE is merely a stupid grad school requirement and that they really don't care about your score. I DO have some rockin references.