When Reality Hits

I think everyone has two worlds they live in. Their positive world and their negative world. The plus and the minus. The good and the bad. I think the two worlds come together very often, and sometimes you walk a bridge between the two; your "I don't know" bridge.

I found out I was pregnant on January 4, 2014. What a way to start the new year, right? We were so excited. My husband and I both had a dream, the same night, that we were pregnant, before we even found out... so finding out was even more exciting.

I had taken, in total, 9 tests. The lines started out very faint... VERY faint. Sometimes I thought I was just messing with myself. Then slowly, they started showing up stronger and stronger, until I got that BFP (the Big Fat Plus). When I got the BFP, we were so excited. We finally told our friends and family (that was at 6 weeks). Definitely earlier than most people like to announce it, but I already had two extremely successful pregnancies and very healthy babies... I figured there was no reason to wait... we were getting our tie-breaker! So exciting!!

We made a big announcement by posting a video of a conversation I had with my son, the oldest, almost 4 years old. He has been pestering me for the last 6-9 months for a little brother, so I took video of me telling him I was going to have another baby. He was elated, and funny, and my facebook page erupted with congratulatory comments and well wishes. It was fantastic.

I lined up a meeting with a midwife, an amazing woman named Lisa Marie with Sacred Journeys Midwifery. I texted with her, she came over to meet me and my family, we talked about babies and birth, and my husband and I decided (long ago) a home water birth is what we wanted to do for this baby. It seemed perfect because of our history, and our midwife specializes in home water births. Score!

Superbowl Sunday came and we went to my husband's parent's house to watch the game... Go Seahawks!

I started spotting there.

That's when I stepped on the bridge...

I knew something was wrong. It was only a tiny bit, but I knew something was wrong.

...one more step...

I told my husband. I texted my midwife. She assured me it would be okay and to watch it.

We went home, nothing else. I was good all day on Monday with no spotting at all. I thought I was messing with myself again, but my conscience kept telling me it wasn't okay.

Monday night I spotted again.

Tuesday night I spotted again.

Wednesday and Thursday, more, and it was different. It was gray-ish.

Another few steps across the bridge...

On Thursday I texted my midwife and she had me come meet her for an impromptu check with a doppler. It was going to be a reach, because I was only 9 weeks, and most doctors and midwives check around 12 weeks for the heartbeat via doppler.

She didn't hear anything, but assured me not to worry. She scheduled an ultrasound for me the following evening at 5.

I knew it wasn't ok.

But I let myself carry hope, of course.

Of course I held onto the little piece of my happy, hopeful, positive world.

Friday, my husband came home from work so he could drive me to the ultrasound and stay with the kids while I went in.

When we got there, he reminded me something he's been telling me forever, but something he'd been telling me every day for the last 5 days.

He said, "I love you no matter what."

I was standing in the middle of my bridge. I wanted so badly to run to the positive side, but I just didn't know. I knew, but I couldn't admit it. I didn't know. I didn't want to hear someone say what my conscience was telling me.

I went in for the ultrasound, and the tech was super nice. She introduced herself, talked with me about how far along I was.

She started the scan, and asked me how I figured out how far along I was... I told her based on my LMP (Last Menstrual Period).

I was supposed to be 9 weeks and 2 days.

She told me I was measuring 4 weeks and 3 days.

My heart sank, but I sat strong.

She said that meant one of two things.

1) I was actually only 4 weeks and 3 days, or
2) The baby stopped growing at 4 weeks and 3 days.

She showed me the ultrasound, and there was no baby in there.

She didn't tell me I wasn't pregnant, but she didn't have to. I've been pregnant twice. I know my body. I know what ultrasounds look like. And like I said before, I knew.

She confirmed my conscience, I thanked her, and I left.

As soon as I left the office, I thought about my husband. I thought about how happy he was when I told him I was pregnant. I thought about how much he wanted a baby. I knew how I felt and how much I wanted the baby, of course, but him... He is my whole life, and I had to break his heart.

My eyes started welling up as I went down the elevator.

Floor 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...

I walked out of the medical building and to the parking structure he was in, waiting for my return.

I started crying.

I had to walk up three flights of stairs (we parked in the wrong structure)... each step was another tear, another sob, another hiccup breath in. I was that much closer to breaking his heart.

I got to the aisle we parked in, and I saw the back of our car.

I started sobbing.

He saw me in the rear view mirror and jumped out of the car.

Of course he knew.

He ran with me across the bridge and we landed together on the other side, just as the entire bridge collapsed behind us.

I was sobbing. I said I am so sorry. I couldn't breathe. He was holding me as tight as he could. just holding me and hugging me. He told me not to say anything, just cry, and it would be okay. He kept reassuring me he loves me. I kept crying and apologizing and telling him I love him.

We got in the car and our son asked us why Mommy was crying.

I told him.

I said, "remember how Mommy had a baby in her belly? Well Mommy was wrong, I'm sorry... there isn't a baby in my belly."

He said, "WHAT? WHY? What did the doctor do to you? Why don't you have a baby in your belly anymore? Are you okay?"

My husband started crying. I started crying again.

I said, "Honey, I'm so sorry. I thought I had a baby in my belly, but I don't. I'm so sorry. I love you."

He said, "It's okay Mommy, I love you too, so much, so so much. It's okay, and I think you'll be okay. I love you Mommy."

After that, I told my family, then close friends, then extended family, and everyone else.

I really appreciate everyone giving us words of love, hope, and encouragement during this time. All of your comments, messages, texts, and calls mean so much to me, to us, and I truly love you all. Thank you so much.

Our worlds are connected with bridges.

That last bridge collapsed behind us, but I know we'll find another bridge back. It's just when reality hits.

How important is it to teach children about religion?

Yesterday, someone asked me a question about religion, and how it correlates with being a parent and raising children.

"How important is it to teach children about religion?"

Very important, but not yet.

I want my children to learn about religion; learn about ALL religions. I want to teach them about religion with an open mind. I don't believe in a God, and neither does my husband. We don't want to teach our children that there is some guy watching their every move, telling them they won't get into heaven if they mess up, or they have to pray to get what they want. There are so many different people in the world with so many different religious views. I want them to know they exist, and it's okay to be different. If they want to be religious, that is perfectly fine, but I will never tell them, "This is what we are, this is what you are, this is how it is, and this is the only way." Because that just isn't the case.

Kids are smart, but impressionable. Gullible. They're not ready to learn about any religion right now, because they will believe you.

They believe sensational stories. When people teach children about the bible, they tell them over-glorified fairy tales, then tell them the fairy tales are true. They build it up into the biggest and best thing, and then they grow up and build their lives around that. As an example, if I told my 3.5 year-old son that his Daddy is a secret superhero and goes out to fight bad guys every night, I can tell you without a doubt in my mind that he would absolutely believe every word I said. You don't need to lie to them about something that is going to affect the rest of their lives. It is entirely possible to be a good person, without being influenced by any form of religion, and that's why I refuse to teach them about religion until it can be discussed with an open mind.

Let me be clear, though. I have no problem with people raising their children with religion. I'm not here to change anyone's mind, or to tell them they are wrong. I won't tell my children not to play with your kids because you believe in God, and I certainly won't teach them that you're wrong because you believe in God. We just do not believe in any God, and raise our children accordingly.

Examples:

• I don't tell my children to pray to God to get what they want, I teach them they have to work for what they want.
• I don't tell my children to pray to God for the health of them or anyone they know, I teach them that there are doctors and scientists who will do their very best to make them or their loved ones feel better.
• I don't tell my children that God is watching them or watching out for them, I teach them that there are consequences for the things they do, whether that is immediate or further down the line, good or bad.
• I don't tell them they won't get into heaven when they die because they committed a sin they didn't know was a sin, I teach them to learn right from wrong, and to apologize for what they did. I teach them to learn from their mistakes.
• I don't tell them to thank God for all they have, I teach them that their Daddy works very, very hard to earn money to get us everything we have.
• I don't tell them that God is the only way and anyone who doesn't believe in God is wrong, I teach them that everyone is different and everyone believes in different things, and that being different is good.
• I don't tell them God loves them more than me or their father, I teach them and show them that we love them more than anything, and we want the absolute best for them.

I am a good mother, I care for my children immensely, and I do my absolutely best to do right by them.

I don't believe that telling them about God is beneficial to their well-being, and I don't think I'd be doing right by them if I told them there was a God.

I don't believe in God, your God, or any God.

I believe in communication, kindness, love, and honesty. If you disagree with me, that's fine!! But do not try to convince me or condemn me for what I believe or don't believe in.


I would love to hear from you! Please let me know what you think in the comments, but please, keep it civil!

Twitter: @itslikemusic

What A Stressful Day... (Has Taught Me)

I'm sitting here in front of the computer in a Melatonin-induced calm after vocally exploding for the (exaggerated) 100th time today. My 3-year-old told me no, again, whined and cried "for no reason," and my 1-year-old bit me while I was nursing her to sleep, after she tried to practically scalp me. After a day like the day I just had, these were the last straws. I freaked out. I cried. I lost my proverbial shit. I was done. Done with the Mommy-job, done with the kids, done with the day. Really, done with the last two weeks. I stormed out in a hot mess of angry tears, and ended up here. And here I go...

Who knew a 3-year-old and a 1-year-old could cause so much stress and frustration to a relatively patient and calm, 27-year-old woman? My babies, my hearts, my all and my everything... they're the source of my inevitable destruction.

I'm not a bad mom. I'm not a perfect mom, and I don't even think I'm a great mom... but I'm a good mom. My kids are taken care of. They are loved. They KNOW they are loved, and they love me. We smile, we laugh, we have tickle fights. We go to Disneyland pretty regularly. We really do have a good time together. I get to stay home with my babies, and I get to teach them and watch them grow every single day. Every single day they amaze me with something new. Even today, one of the worst days I've had in a while, I watched my 3-year-old play a game on my husband's phone that I'm pretty sure I couldn't figure out (and I'm pretty good with video games!). I saw my 1-year-old make up a new little dance sequence. They're adorable, and they're killing me.

I don't know where I went "wrong" in all this. Not a friggin' clue. Back when I said I'm a good mom, I meant it. That means I tell them "no" and I exercise patience, as well as teach it to them. There is discipline in this family. I'm not afraid of them hating me for 5 seconds when I tell them they can't have this or that. I love them and they are really good kids, but somewhere in the last, oh, I don't know... month or so? Somewhere they found a loophole and, together, have figured out how to walk all over me.

I don't want to have an explosive personality. I don't want to yell or scream. I don't want them to expect that from me. I don't want that at all. So how do I keep it from happening?

You know when you're out in a restaurant and that one kid just goes ballistic? Just completely inconsolable, and their parents are sitting there mortified, either paralyzed from embarrassment or doing everything they can to calm their kid down before inevitably making the rounds outside, leaving the other parent to sit there looking around, going, "I swear my kid has never done this before! S/he's usually so great, I have no idea what's going on!" While every other patron is sitting there thinking, "yeah, RIGHT." I totally get that. I completely, 100% understand that. I am that mom now. Me and my husband, we're those parents. That kid, those are my babies. It's literally like a switch just flipped, and I can't for the life of me figure out how to switch it back.

Since I'm with my babies 24/7, I've figured out a sequence in their learning. First, they learn to eat and then they learn very basic communication (waaaaahhh!). Then they learn that different sounds mean different things. Sounds get more complex. They learn to control their arms and legs and head, and they learn to get around. Wiggle, crawl, stand, walk, run... They push themselves past their boundaries to the next milestone. We, as parents, cheer them on, encourage them, teach them, and keep them moving forward. They hurl themselves to the next boundary, the next milestone... "Mama, Dada, Hi, ByeBye!" and we're there throwing mini parties. Then they locate their independence... "No, don't touch that." "No, put that back." "No, come over here." "No, don't do that." "Here, take this." "Look at this!" Distractions. Tell them no. Play keep away. They want to get to the next boundary and push past it. They don't understand limits. There are no limits. It is literally their job, their only job, to find their boundaries, push their boundaries, and discover their limits. And it is our job, as parents, to put those boundaries in place and be there to enforce the limits. It is our job to tell them no and point them, coach them, in the right direction. My kids might only be 1 and 3, but I *know* that this sequence and these jobs will really never stop. Ever. You don't ever stop being a parent. I'm a married, 27-year-old mother of two, homeowner, and I still get coached in the right direction by my parents. (Mom, Dad, I appreciate the hell out of you guys. Thank you for always being there for me.)

Here's the thing, I want my kids to WANT to do the right thing. I don't want to have to sit here going, no, no, no, No, NO, NO! That sucks. I just want them to know not to do whatever it is they are thinking of doing. How do I make that happen? I have to enforce rules and boundaries. I have to teach them. I have to coach them.

Everyone needs a reminder now and then. Even I need reminders... They don't know what I know. I can't expect them to know what I know. But I can teach them what I know, and I can be there when they don't listen. I will be there when they experience the things I know. I know what it's like to be told no. I know what it's like to get burnt by the stove. I know what it's like to taste cocoa powder (I really wish I listened to my mom when she told me not to taste it...). 

So, this stressful day of stress and frustration and stress and STRESS has actually been beneficial to my career choice, and I guess somewhat therapeutic for me. I need to remember that my babies are just that... my babies. I love them more than anything I have ever loved in my entire life. There are no words to describe the love I have for them. I want the best for them, and right now, I am the best for them. I need to keep being the best for them, so I need to be the best me I can be. I need to remember that they are little. They are learning. They are learning more now than they'll ever learn in the future. They can push my buttons and they can (try!) to walk all over me, so I have to get ready. And anyways, who am I trying to kid? If I can't handle them now, what the hell am I going to do when they're teenagers?! 

Babies, Mommy is back. With patience, kindness, and unwavering love.

Mommy is here. 

I'm ready.

Friday the 13th

Today was Friday the 13th. I don't consider it a scary or unlucky day; actually quite the opposite. Usually my best days are Friday the 13th's. (yes, that makes complete sense.)

I have family visiting from out of town, and they wanted to go to Disneyland... which is fine, because I love Disneyland, and I've had an annual pass since I was 6 years old! (If you do the math, I've had it for 20 years. BAM.) It was pretty rainy yesterday, so I assumed it would be a good day to go, since most tourists don't go to a theme park when it's wet and rainy. Well it wasn't wet or rainy. It was about 80 degrees, and it was around 99% humidity. Everyone was there. Party at Disneyland! It drizzled just a few times, but burnt off before it hit the ground.

I got there with my babies around 10:30-11:00 am, and I left around 11pm. I tell ya, if you want a good but abnormal workout, try pushing a double stroller full of stuff and two kids around two theme parks for 12 hours in full humidity, maybe you'll lose 2 lbs like I did!

We started at Disney's California Adventure...

I absolutely love what they've done with the place. I love Buena Vista Street (I've only been in one shop so far.), it's like walking around LA in the 30s. Beautiful. I feel like I belong there!

I also am totally digging Cars Land; it's like the Pixar studio just dropped the move right over the "real world"... it is literally like you're walking through Radiator Springs in the Cars movie.

The only "new" thing I haven't seen is the Hollywood Back Lot and the Mat Hatter Tea Party... definitely looking forward to seeing them hopefully soon!

Disneyland...

The one and only original. I love Disneyland. I always have and I always will... I just hate that they took my "home" away. Carnation Plaza Gardens. Every time I see the top of the Plaza all torn apart over the fence, I get sick to my stomach and I want to cry. I spent a lot of time there growing up! Oh well, Disneyland needs more character Meet-and-Greet areas, right?

I guess that's all I can muster to say about Disneyland right now.

Anyways, all in all, it was fun being there. Despite frustrations that happened and not going on a single ride (I have babies, I'm used to it), I had a good time with my family.

The year is wrong... bad luck, Mickey!

Anniversary Numero Six

That's right folks. My husband and I have been married for 6 years and 2 days. We've known each other for 6 years and 3 months. No, I'm not kidding! We met some time around Easter in 2006, he proposed to me the weekend after his 21st birthday (June 21) and we were married just a few weeks later on July 8, 2006.

Why?!

...Well, when you know, you know...

In these last 6 years, we've lived in 4 different places, I worked at 3 places, started my own company, he worked in two places, we've had two beautiful children, and have never ever been happier!

This year we had a lovely anni. We woke up when our son came into our room, so we snuggled with both babies for a while. We exchanged presents (I got him an awesome watch from Diesel, he got me beautiful diamond stud earrings from Tiffany & Co.) I got up and made my family real french toast with scrambled eggs. It was a pretty big and kinda late breakfast, so we didn't really do lunch. We hung out at home for a while, played games, did some normal 'around the house' stuff... then later in the day, my hubby's parents watched the kidlets so we could go to dinner!

We went to McCormick & Schmick's - Irvine for our 5:00p dinner reservation.  We get there and pull into the valet area... the valet guy is just hanging out in his truck waiting for the restaurant to open. He gets out and runs over to us, totally not "ready." He hands the valet ticket to my husband and away we go to the restaurant! He goes to open the door for me and almost fell over while trying to pull it open. He says, "It's locked..?" "It's locked because they're not open..." I replied. Then we just started cracking up. It was funny, because they open at 5:00, which we didn't know. It was also funny, because we tend to do the normal thing and arrive a few minutes earlier than our reservation time.


The hostess and manager inside noticed us and didn't do anything. For about a minute. Then they let us in and showed us to our table. Now we were the only people IN the restaurant, other than the staff. Super awkward for me, because that's never happened to me before. But it was kind of cool because we had the whole place to ourselves, even though we stayed at our table.


Our waiter was nice, but quiet, spoke fast, and spoke with an Asian accent. Just had to double check what he said a few times, but nothing major. Everything was going well-- until we moved the silverware and table settings. Maybe it's because we were the only people in there. Or maybe he was just extremely anal retentive. Either way, it was really funny for us. We didn't notice it at first... then he kept doing it. Every. Single. Time. We moved a spoon, he'd put it back on the placemat. We used a fork, he'd take it away and put a new one down. We ordered food, he'd move the settings again. He did it the entire night, and it was hilarious. Towards the end of the dinner, my hubby just started moving things on purpose.


Hubby ordered wine, I ordered a seasonal sangria. Then mango iced tea. Then regular iced tea. We got a caprese flatbread appetizer. Hubby got a iceberg wedge salad with bacon, tomatoes, and bleu cheese dressing, with crumbled bleu cheese on top. I got a caesar salad. For dinner, hubby got alaskan halibut with crab on top over a mushroom risotto. I got parmesan crusted chicken with a caper butter sauce next to garlic linguine. For our sides, hubby ordered creamed spinach and lobster mashed potatoes. I got grilled shrimp scampi style, and a lobster tail. For dessert, hubby got a mixed berry florentine over vanilla bean ice cream, served in a dish made of caramel and assorted nuts. I got a vanilla bean creme brule topped with strawberries.

First thing, I ordered a sangria that looked way yummier than it tasted. So I got a mango iced tea-- the waiter said the bartender would make it with a mango syrup. NOPE. Made it with mango juice. It was delicious, but not at all what I was expecting, so I just went with iced tea after that.  Our caprese appetizer out as a pizza, but it's okay because it was way yummy. Our dinners were absolutely AMAZING. The lobster mashed potatoes were literally the best mashed potatoes I have ever had in my entire life. I almost don't want to eat any other mashed potatoes ever again. The lobster tail was cooked perfectly. The shrimp scampi? To die for. Our desserts were perfect. All in all, it was a fantastic anniversary dinner... we got the bill to prove it!


After dinner, we picked up our babies and enjoyed the rest of our night together.

...and to my wonderful husband,
Thank you. Thank you for being my everything, I love you with all of me! Happy anniversary, here's to a million more! (...if you can handle me for that long!)

6 wonderful years... can you tell?