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because life is full of twists and turns

Month: May 2013 (page 1 of 6)

repost: real moments of new motherhood

** Originally posted on September 22, 2012
I awake with a pounding head, blurry vision and an upset stomach.  It’s the third time this week.  Normally I would stay in bed, pull the covers over my head and try my best to sleep through the pain until the migraine relented and I was able to get back to life.

But today that’s not an option.  Seven weeks ago I became responsible for another which means I can’t just pull the covers over my head.  Instead I crawl out of bed and soothe the crying babe.

How can I care for this tiny human when I’m the one who needs to be taken care of?  He’s crying for his mother, but right now I’m crying for mine.

I am hit with a wave of nausea.  I know it would be a tiny bit better if I could just lay down, but I can’t.  Please, Lord, not today.  I just need to be well enough to care for my baby.  Looking across the room, I eye the bucket sitting there.  Can I just make it until the end of this feeding?  …nope.  I hear the baby howling from the crib where I hastily laid him as I sit hunch over the bucket.

Everyone talks about how hard it is to have a newborn, but not many talk about doing it with a chronic illness; when you are in a battle with your body to simply get out of bed in the morning.  So far I’ve been managing through my daily pain, but a migraine is like a giant wave that knocks you to the ground no matter how firmly you have your feet planted.
An arsenal of baby supplies are spread over my comforter.  My plan is to only leave the bed to change diapers.  Carrying a baby around with a migraine is simply not a good idea.  To my left is a Boppy, a blanket, a soother and a burp cloth.  To my right is his pack n play.  I can do this.  I have to do this.
But the questions linger in my mind.  How will I ever be a mother when I’m this sick?  How do you explain to a baby that mama just can’t get out of bed that morning and that she just really, really needs you to stop screaming in her ear?

I hear the hum of the garage door and whisper in my little man’s little ear, “Papa is home.  It’s gonna be okay.”  On his lunch break, my dear husband has brought me food and drink.  We both know from experience that if the migraine gets too bad we’ll end up spending the evening in the emergency room and we’ll try everything we can think of to stop it.

The shades are drawn.  An ice pack is on my head.  The medicine has been taken.  I’m sipping liquids as much as my upset stomach will allow.  A fan is blowing on my head.  The lunch break is over and he must return to base.  Together we pray that I will receive the strength to continue. 

Baby finally falls asleep on my chest.  I lay him in his bed hoping to close my eyes against the sun which feels like lasar beams penetrating my skull.  Thirty seconds later he is awake and screaming.  I take him in my arms again speaking softly to calm him for his sake as well as for mine.  Sweet baby, mama is doing her very best today.  I’m trying so hard to give you everything you need.  Please, please just sleep for me today.  Please just stop crying.  I’ll make it up to you another day. 

As I breathe in air to sustain my body, I breathe in grace to sustain my soul.  I tell myself the truths that I am prone to forget.

This is not the day to compete for the New-Mother-of-the-Year award.  Today is not a measure of how much I love my baby.  I will not let this day be indicative of the next twenty years nor let it scare me into fearing this heavenly appointment.

Today is not easy.  Today is not enjoyable.  But I know that God has given me enough grace to make it through today.  The migraine, the crying babe, the pain.  All of it is covered by the grace I’ve been given.  Tomorrow holds the promise of “new mercies”.  Which is good.  I’ve exhausted all that I’ve been given for today.

And although my son slumbers through my words, I whisper in his ear:  “We’re gonna get through, Haddy.  We’ve got grace.  And life is all about grace.”

T’was grace that brought me safe thus far and grace will lead me home.

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day 614

dear mr. mays,

Happy day 614 of marriage!  šŸ™‚  Most people write letters like this on anniversaries or birthdays, but I decided that EVERY day with you is worth celebrating.  So why not write you a letter today?

Marrying you was the best decision of my life.  That is NOT saying that the last 614 days have been perfect.  There have definitely been days when we’ve argued, when we miscommunicated and when we’ve hurt each other.  There have been days when we question why life seems so hard or why certain things have happened to us.  But even through the hard times, I’m glad that we’re on the same team.

My love, I so appreciate you.  You come home at the end of the day and listen to a rundown of all the blogs, articles and books I’ve read that day and you actually engage in conversations about them.  Thank you for encouraging me and enabling me to get involved as a Key Spouse in the Air Force including helping me make and deliver the meals.  You are gracious and kind and you are an example of selflessness.  Sometimes you surprise me at how well you know me – it shows that you care to see me thrive, not simply survive.  You’re a wonderful father to baby Hadden too and watching you two together makes me exceedingly happy.

can’t wait to see what the next 614 days together hold!

love,
  miss glorioso (-mays)

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six quirks of military life

When my husband first commissioned into the Air Force, we had a bit of adjusting to do.  There is a big learning curve the first few months, but after awhile, things seem second nature.  Here are a few of those quirks that we’ve gotten used to in the past year and a half.  šŸ™‚

1.  Hearing the “Giant Voice” announcements  

There is a speaker system throughout the base and in base housing that is mostly used for emergencies.  For instance, two nights ago we were woken up at 1am to crazy sirens and soon after a booming voice spoke to us:  “This…is…the command…post…a tornado…warning…has been…issued…seek…shelter…immediately.”  For some reason, hearing the Giant Voice always makes me feel like I’m in a scene from Harry Potter.

2.  Planes overhead all the time.

This one is pretty self-explanatory.  It’s like living next to an airport.

3.  Having our IDs out and ready at the gate.

Or the commissary.  Or the BX.  Or the doctor’s office.  Or the library.  šŸ™‚  Basically, always have your ID with you because you’ll need it to do almost anything on base.  It’s like the grown up version of a college ID.

4.  Stopping your car while the National Anthem plays at 4:30pm.

You also avoid walking outside at 4:30pm because when the music starts you stop what you’re doing to face the closest flag and put your hand over your heart until the music is done.

5.  Tipping your baggers at the commissary

Always remember to have a few dollars on hand!  Your groceries get taken to the car and loaded by a bagger and you need to have a tip ready.

6.  Having low expectations for parking spots

In addition to handicapped parking and “stork parking” (for pregnant women), the front few parking spots of main buildings are reserved for the important people.  Like generals and colonels and chiefs.  There were a couple times when we got excited about scoring an awesome parking spot, only to realize that it was reserved.  It was a bit of a disappointment, but now we’re used to it.  Although, let’s be honest, how often do generals honestly do their own grocery shopping??

What did I miss?  šŸ™‚

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