ONE YEAR

I remember the day Ryan was born.
I remember how he struggled to take his first breath.
I remember hearing his voice for the first time.
A little over three years later, I watched him struggle to breathe once more.
I saw machines breathe for him.
I grieved the loss of his voice.
I watched him hang on to life.

Last year
I could not imagine a single tomorrow.
I was trapped in a moment,
an instant of fear, worry, and grief
that lasted an infinity.
Any hopes, dreams, worries or fears I once had
meant nothing from that moment on.
There was only one thing that mattered,
only one thing that infiltrated my every thought.
It didn't exist in the past 
and did not allow me to imagine a future,
not a single minute past the one I was living in at that moment in time.
But each moment passed,
each minute expired,
each hour gone,
and every day moved on.


A year has passed.
In a year I have seen life drain before my eyes 
And I have seen it restored
In a year I have witnessed a body deteriorate 
And I have seen it grow
In a year I have been lost
And I have been found
In a year I have experienced profound sadness
And have embraced joy
In a year I have forgotten all that I know
And I have learned so much
In a year I have worried
And I have renewed confidence
In a year I have lost hopes and dreams
And I have gained new direction
In a year I have wanted nothing more
And I have gotten everything
In a year I have watched my baby grow into a little boy.

Today I celebrate the life of my child.
I am overwhelmed with emotion.
Joy, Elation, Hope, Worry, Fear
A loss for words
Swallowed up by the emotion 
a knot in my throat
Tears flow freely
followed by joyous waves of laughter
that wash over my heart
I grieve for what our lives were
and celebrate the life that is now.


Today he keeps talking about when he turns five, 
just weeks after his fourth birthday.
He circled toys in an ad for Santa to bring him.
He told me he wants to go back to the beach.
He has hopes and dreams for a future.
And now, so do I.

Confessions of Un-Confidence

I have been having a rough time lately with my role as "mom".

I sort-of broke down the other evening to Big Daddy R and came somewhat clean that I felt like a failure as a mother.  I say "sort-of" and "somewhat" because I only cried a little and only touched on the tip of the iceberg.  I was not ready to completely divulge my true feelings.

I confided to him that this should be easy.   I am smart but this boggles me.  Why is it I can't do it?  Why can't I handle two small children?  I should be doing better.

I feel so awkward every time someone tells me what a good mom I am to my two little Rs.  My neighbors continually gush about it and I have found myself avoiding them (which is difficult because they are like grandparents to my kids) just because I don't want to hear about how wonderful of a mom I am to them.

I feel like I have a dark dirty secret that no one but me and my poor children know about.  My poor kids that have to suffer with the truth everyday.  And my poor husband who can see that something is bothering me but doesn't understand because I refuse to burden him with the depth of my troubles.

But to the keen eye, an outside observer may see the unclean house, the half-naked kids, the piles of laundry, the overworked husband, the too-clean stove, and the empty bottles of wine and deduce that either these kids need to have protective custody from neglectful and addictive parents, or that this is a case of a mom who has no confidence in her skills.

When I'm low, I'm under the barrel.  No, I'm the muck that grows under the stuff that lives under the barrel.

But then there are days when I can breathe and just "let it be".  Instead of fighting against the current, I just float downstream and have faith that I won't hit a waterfall.  Or if I do happen upon one, that it won't be too scary, it may actually be thrilling, and that I will not drown.

It is all about faith I guess.  I have to blindly believe that it will all be ok.  And if I put my whole heart into that belief then my confidence grows.

I can see that my children are beautiful and healthy.  I can see that my kids kiss and hug and laugh and play together.  I can see that there is a creative ingenuity in their messes.  I can see that the fridge & cabinets are filled with healthy foods that they actually love to eat.   I can see that my three year old started to read, can do simple math, and can recite books word for word with such enthusiasm and drama it's no wonder he's my child!  I can see that even though my 18 month old utters few words, her mind is working and she understands completely.  I can see that there is more laughter than screaming.  And I can see that Ryan proclaims everyday, sometime several times a day, that "We are the best & happiest family in the world!"
And I would have to agree with him wholeheartedly!

Tomorrow I may be losing my mind once again, continually following their path of destruction, but today I will savor every moment of the results of my "mom" abilities.

No More Small Potatoes

I feel like a teenager again; invincible and filled with nervous excitement, not knowing what the future holds.  My potential seems limitless.  I have the confidence that I can now accomplish anything.  My future is filled with unknowns but there is a sweet excitement of what lies ahead.  It is an overwhelming swell of positive energy that I can physically feel shining inside me, bursting at the seams.

I feel worlds apart from anyone who doesn't have this light, but I don't mind at all.  I see their strange looks of curiosity, or their blatant stares of confusion, or their flat-out annoyance and avoidance.  I see this but I am not swayed, not concerned, nothing can stop me.  All that matters is how I feel right now, in this very moment, and it is magnificent!

I had set goals before.  I once had dreams.  I have experienced success as well failure.   All small potatoes.  The bar was never set high enough for a real challenge.  The hurdles I had overcome in life were all placed there by me, detours I ultimately created, pressures I put on myself.  Sometime I won, and sometimes I lost.  In retrospect, I never really had anything to lose.  Not like this.

This is was something no one would ever wish for, something no one would ever want; the hardest thing I have ever been faced with in my life.  Something unplanned, unforeseen, unexpected.  This was an obstacle that was not chosen, but a goal that was necessary, unavoidable, and the epitome of importance.  Nothing had ever been this important.  The gravity of the situation paralyzed me at first.  It seemed there was nothing I could do.  Helpless, hopeless, afraid.  I was being hurdled at this insurmountable hurdle, kicking and screaming and terrified out of my mind.

I had no choice but to face this.  There was a voice inside me.  The one who always doubts, always criticizes, always seems reasonable.  The one who stops me from moving ahead, from trying new things, from believing in positive possibilities.   In that moment I chose to not listen to the voice.  I chose to only look toward the positive, the goal that once seemed unattainable.  I narrowed my focus.  The odds that were stacked against a positive outcome were now in my blind spot.  This goal became the center of my life.  My new motto was "whatever it takes."  My determination fed off of positive energy and the energy grew with my determination.  The cycle was endless. 

Astonishment came from people outside of the situation who only saw the negative.  They did not know or understand how I could feel this good, be this happy, seem so calm and relaxed.  The positive energy gave me strength.  And that voice, it has been stunned into silenced.  It is still present, but I imagine it's choking on this potato.  I believed, truly believed, in nothing but the positive.  Some people call this faith.  I had faith that the goal could be achieved.

This achievement was not even mine really, yet I feel so proud of the accomplishment.  This was a matter of life, a life I cherish, a life that has been renewed.  The life of my child.  And although it was not my life that has been saved, I feel the fire of life has been reignited within me.  My life has been irreversibly altered, for the good, by this challenge.  My life has been rejuvenated with hope.  My life is now filled with amazing potential. 

Aspirations and dreams seem attainable.  Setting my sights higher seems only natural.  No more small potatoes. There is endless opportunity, and the hurdles and challenges to get there are now dwarfed in comparison.  I'm taking chances.  Risk seems like such a silly little word.  I am no longer afraid to try new things for fear of failure.  It isn't really true failure.  There is no real risk.  There really is nothing to lose, nothing of importance anyway. 

There is no such thing as failure, only different outcomes, different paths.  The path I am on now is golden, lined with endless rows of giant potatoes of possibilities.  And oh, how I love potatoes!