43 trips around the sun

Tattooist Irene 'Bobbie' Libarry In two more days I will be 43 years old.

43


Fourty-three

I never thought I'd make it past 30. My sister didn't, why would I? I never imagined life beyond my twenties, so perhaps, that is why the last 15 years just sort of flew by without any concern. I have just been living my life, moving, changing jobs, new friends, body changing, more and more tattoos, husband, kids, grey hair, then 43.

I used to make a big thing out of my birthday, and as I have aged I have found myself less and less concerned with big parties. I did small dinners out with friends for a while, and this year we are having Chekota's adoption ceremony on my birthday. I did that on purpose. I wanted her special day to be a part of my special day. My intention is not to take from her, but to share something very special with her.

We tell her often that she has two mommy's and daddy's and another brother and sister. Of course she doesn't understand, but my hope is that when she does, having her adoption date and my birthday together, will give her and I a special bond. Creating special bonds and celebrations, separate from Kai, I feel are important for Chekota. Navigating the waters of bio kids and adoptive kids, is sometimes a challenge. But my hope is that Chekota will know that we love her as much as Kai, even if they have different birth stories.


I've been thinking a lot about my being "middle aged", what that means, and truly letting it all hang out.

I'm letting my grey hair come in, and I feel very liberated since having my hysterectomy. This is something I didn't think would happen because I was so sad before the surgery. Now, I feel like a whole new woman. I'm EXCITED to get older...and older...and wiser. The comfort I feel as I get older, is something I cannot explain. I no longer feel the need to keep up with trends and technology. Sure I'm still interested in those things, but I'm not worried about falling behind. Same goes with tv shows, fashion, and pop music. It almost feels like I should be going back to my ways when I was 18...wear what I want, listen to the music that I have always loved and prefer, and be that weirdo lady.

I guess I am basically saying that I am very grateful for still being here, still strong, empowered, and happy. I'm looking forward to the next 40 years.

Unpluged from FaceSpace for good...I think.

I say this often, I am a bad blogger. But honestly, I'm just lazy. Facebook was an easy way to update the world with my life. But what am I really doing? Just sharing other peoples posts that resonate with me, putting my politics out there, my religion, my kids....


All the health problems I have had for the last 4 years have really changed me and the way I think about information sharing. Don't get me wrong, I love technology, but I feel like it has to much of a presence in my life, and I need to reconnect with people in a more human way.

Does that make sense?

I find myself looking at my phone while my kids are saying, "mommy, mommy, hey mommy"...it makes me sad that I do that to them. They deserve a more attentive mother.


So after Chekota's ceremony, my life will only be shared here. I need to be more present in my life, and I keep having these desires to move to the woods.

If only.

Post Partum Depression (posted in 2013)

So.


PPD is for real and harsh, and was taking over my life for the last few months.


Honestly, as educated as I think I am, the body and mind are always throwing me off my axis. I didn't think that I would be hit with PPD because I had a c-section, perhaps I was in denial.


I have struggled with anxiety and depression since I was 13. I have had more therapists, psychiatrists, counselors, DBT sessions,(despite NOT being BPD), hospitalizations, and been on more medications than I would like to admit. Sometimes treatment works, sometimes not. Sometimes I just need to do ceremony and I'm ok, sometimes I need western medicine intervention, sometimes just a hug.


I was back in therapy before I had the baby, before I was even pregnant. I was in therapy this last time because after my dad died and I got divorced, I slipped back into that dark space where I isolate and push others away. To the point where panic and anxiety set in. Finding myself pulling over in the middle of rush hour traffic because I can't focus on where I am going and my heart starts to race and the feeling of impending doom washes over me. It stays there with no intention of leaving, like a poppy seed stuck in between your teeth.


When I got pregnant, Dr. M said to me, "I think we need to start using the Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale now, so we have a baseline". I looked it up. Then felt like I was 13 again, marking off boxes on "How I felt"...what if you can't explain how you feel? I just marked what fit closest.


After Kai was born, I began sobbing non-stop for weeks. No reason, no trigger, just all of the sudden I was uncontrollably crying and absolutely inconsolable. I would be feeding him, changing him, just laying in bed with him and the water works would begin. I felt like that was normal and possibly having had a baby caused all those new mommy hormones to trigger the shit I have not dealt with surrounding my mom dying. Then I had to go back to work. Yeah, not good timing. This continued at work, at my desk, in the bathroom, in the parking lot, in my car, and on and on. So Dr. M increased my anti-depressants, and put me on benzo's.


Things seemed to be improving slowly, then one day in a meeting, AT WORK, I had a panic attack. Worst one I have had in years. Couldn't breathe, sobbing, hands cramping up, and on the verge of disassociating. Some co-workers who I had confided in, saw me outside wandering around crying in a panic and sat me down. They started to talk to me, getting my meds out of my purse, calling my shrink, smudging me, caring for me. My shrink calls my husband to come get me and take me home and pick up a new prescription.


Rad.

I do try to live my life in a good native way, I'm not traditional nor was I raised as such, but I do what I can. Is this anxiety crap a chemical imbalance and a part of who I am?

When I am under too much stress, not eating right, not caring for myself, the cycle starts. It may take weeks or even months to catch up to me, but it eventually will. I can feel the build up, the tension, the fear, the shaking of my legs, picking of my nails, and the obsessive thoughts. I just do not know how to stop it once the cycle begins.


To be honest, when I was in my '20s I kind of enjoyed the build up. Almost like a weird adrenalin rush of sorts. I would think, hmmm, I wonder how bad it will be this time? Will I be able to manage it solo and un-medicated? Where will it happen? But those moments were few and far between. Most of the time I would try to just hide and ride it out.


I can't do that anymore. I'm a mom and wife, and friend.

Then that obnoxious voice in my head says, "You're fiiine. Stop your meds, they are poison". So here I am, week three into weaning myself off my meds.


Of course I feel fine right now....stable, strong, in control, supported. My husband is supportive of my choices and just keeps an extra close eye on my moods and checks in when things seem above or below my baseline. I am grateful for him every single fucking day and I know I say that a lot. 

So I'm just trying to breathe, and hope, and be present...and reach out when I need too.

*Update 

It's been a year since this post, and things are good.

Year one post pardum, nearly done.

Here we are, nearing the end of 2013, and I can proudly say, that we as a family, survived the first year of Kai's life. While we still have a month to go, I feel like we overcame SO MUCH as new parents, all over again. I struggled with PPD for many, many months, and my choice to go off my meds, was not a smart one. I went back to counseling and went back on meds. I need to, and it's ok. I'm a better mom, wife, friend, co-worker, etc. It's not forever, just for now.

Work is good, I'm in a new position and feel much more supported and more able to be involved in cultural activities. Working on many projects and supporting little ones in foster care. Something very close to my heart.

Chekota is entering the terrible three's, well not officially until April, but the kid is ahead of the game! She can count up 4, knows colors and is talking up a storm. She has some delays as far as language due to her birth complications, but she is making strides in that as well. I feel so blessed to be her mom. Her adoption will be final in two months...after nearly three years.


I have to deal with having my gallbladder removed soon, but it's going to be fine. Being pregnant caused a lot of health issues for me, not that I have any regrets, I would do it again for Kai, but now I need to focus on my physical health. It's very important to stay in balance, and this last year has been a true test of my ability to stay in balance. I know where my strength is and my weakness. I am so grateful for Cory, my friends and family, and my community. You are my heart.


Upward and onward I say. I hope that 2014 brings much health, joy, and love to everyone...I see bright things ahead for my little family, and that makes all the struggle worth it.

Oxytocin, it can fix anything.

Wow dudes, life. I wasn't sure how to write about my birth experience as it was much more intense than I expected. I tried REALLY hard to remain open minded, after all I had 9 months to prepare myself for this and 5 of those months I knew I was having a c-section. It's January 26 and I'm now 13 days postpartum and feel like it's ok to talk about now. I'm still very weepy and emotionally fragile, not very shocking coming from me. I guess I was not prepared for the flood of emotions because EVERYTHING I read stated that you only get the "Oxycontin Rush" from vaginal birth.
So let's start this story on Saturday January 12, 2013. Our very good friend Jess had come down from Olympia Washington to attend Kai's birth and be our main support person. Her wife, Krista, was supposed to be there as well, but had been really sick and wanted to wait until she was fever free to be around everyone. My oldest nephew had also flown in from Arizona to be here for the big day. Saturday we dropped Chekota off at our day care providers who have been a tremendous help and second family to us. She stayed with them the entire time I was in the hospital so Cory could be with Kai and myself, and it made a huge difference in my recovery and the bonding of our family.
Sunday morning everyone got up early and drove out to Beaverton to St. Vincent's hospital at 6:30 am. It had been snowing off and on and I felt very calm. When I was admitted and got settled into our first room, and was just trying to focus on being positive and not scared. Truth be told, I was terrified and was really just trying to convince myself everything really was going to be ok. See I am one of those people who tries to see the silver lining even when shit is falling down around them, and usually keeps positive until one too many things hit then I fall apart HARD. I was trying to avoid that. My pregnancy was extremely difficult, getting pregnant was difficult, my marriage was tested, my faith was tested, my patience and self love...all tested over the last 3 years. Then there I was, 36 weeks and 6 days later, laying in a bed with two iv's waiting to meet my son.
After meeting a slew of nurses, my anesthesiologist, getting my lady bits shaved in front of everyone, and being told the order in which everything would go down, my doctor finally came in. She told us that everything was set to go and that she made sure they had everything in the o.r for any emergency situation that may come up. She was very transparent about what might happen and I appreciated her honesty. I wanted to know everything so I could be emotionally ready. As well as Cory.
Speaking of Cory, he was AMAZING. He stayed very calm and supportive and attentive, even when he was putting his lovely o.r attire! We walked together down to the room holding hands getting more and more weepy with every step. We kissed each other and he waited in the hall way for them to get him after everything was set up. I really had wanted him to be in there for my spinal because I was terrified of that going bad. Even though the anesthesiologist was kind of a jerk in the beginning, he was very fast and before I knew it, I was laying down and unable to feel anything from mid chest, down. I remember not feeling my chest and feeling like I wasn't breathing. I said several times, "I can't breathe, are you sure I'm breathing?", he assured me all was normal and I was safe. He ended up being really helpful to Cory and I telling us what my doctor was doing since I was draped off.
They brought Cory into the room and had him sit at my left side. We basically locked eyes and stayed that way. It was pretty fast from that part, I could hear my doctor talking with the other doctor about school and other things, and it honestly helped me feel more calm. Time seemed to fly up until I heard them say, "You are going to feel some pressure, we are getting him out now...". Right then I began to feel like the wind was being knocked out of me, like I couldn't catch my breath. I looked at Cory and was trying to explain to him I knew Kai and I were being separated, as in we were no longer going to be connected in a special way. I couldn't handle it, I had become so used to being pregnant and feeling my son inside me that I started to mourn that loss at that moment. Then all of the sudden I could hear him...he was out! His cry was soft and I knew that meant he was having a hard time breathing. They carried him around so we could see him, and all I could make out beyond my tears was this tiny grey shaking baby. Cory and I cried and kissed and mashed our foreheads together. Despite knowing Kai was fighting an uphill battle as a preemie, I was so happy he was here with us.
They took Cory over to our son and then they all went into the NICU. After that, I don't recall much until I was being rolled into the NICU to see Kai. I was really scared to go into that room but I wanted to see him and touch him more than anything. They rolled my bed right up alongside his crib and I saw him laying there so fragile and tiny. He weighed 5 lbs and 14 ounces and was 19 inches long. He had lost some blood due to my placenta being nicked and also had some fluid in his lungs so they had him hooked up to a CPAP machine and some other various machines to monitor him. It looked bad in my mind, and when I realized I wasn't going to be able to hold him I lost it. I put my hand on his hand and told him I loved him and that I wasn't going to be far away.
Then they took me away, without my baby.
I was crying really hard but everyone told me it was ok and that he was strong and to not worry. But still my baby wasn't coming with us.
After a couple hours I was moved into my permanent room and family was allowed to come visit me. I asked Cory to go be with Kai so he was not alone. In that time alone I watched the snow falling outside and had a private talk with those who are no longer with me, mom, dad, and Lisa. I told them they would love Kai and that I wished they were there to hold him. It was a lonely moment, but I decided I would allow myself to feel that then move forward.

Later that night I was taken into the NICU to hold Kai and I was terrified. So many wires and machines and iv's...so much stuff on such a tiny boy. I frantically took off my night gown and placed him onto my breasts and held him tight. Again, I cried hard and ignored the fact my pain killers were warring off...I just wanted my baby. He was perfect and beautiful and smelled delicious. I have never been more content in my life.

We stayed at the hospital for a total of 5 days where I struggled with breast feeding, learning how to care for a preemie, trying to be gentle to my own body, and having nurses come check on me every two/four hours all on NO sleep. My allergies had gotten really bad while there and I couldn't have any medication because I was breast feeding, so breathing was challenging. I have to say, this was the worst hospital experience ever, as far as rest goes. But it's all ok now and we made it through.
We came home and have since, been trying to settle into some sort of routine. Having Chekota back home was a rough transition as her whole world was flipped upside down for 5 days and she began regressing. Screaming at bedtime and not listening to us. She is much better now, and I hope that she will continue to move towards loving her new baby brother.

In other news, Cory and Chekota were in a car accident the week we came home and our van was totaled. We have full coverage as far as insurance goes, but this is just another thing thrown at us at an already very stressful and fragile time. But we just get back up and fight back, that is how we roll in this family. I think these challenges are just making us stronger and closer. I have never felt more close or in love with Cory than I do right now...
While I did not have the birth I wanted, was unable to breast feed after 3 1/2 weeks, have more medical debt than I can swallow and have been on bed rest for 3 months, I have to say becoming a mom to Kai has changed me for the better and is the greatest blessing I have ever received.
The whole in my heart is now full and I feel like a complete person. I am so very thankful for these gifts and will hold onto them all as tight as I can.

Year End Wrap Up...oh and it's a WHOPPER!

Hi it's me...worst-blogger-ever. Sorry.
I know I use that same old tired excuse of "ooohh life is so busy, blah blah blah", but no really...this year has kicked my butt. Both bad and amazingly good.
Let's start with the bad, slide into the good and finish with a photo montage. Who doesn't LOVE a montage?!?!

BAD: Soooo pregnancy for me, has been extremely difficult. And by difficult I mean, really fucking hard and emotionally draining. I found out in my second trimester that I have placenta previa. What is placenta previa? Great question:

Noun 1. placenta previa - pregnancy in which the placenta is implanted in the lower part of the uterus (instead of the upper part); can cause bleeding late in pregnancy; delivery by cesarean section may be necessary.

Basically I have a lot of scar tissue in my uterus so when it came time for my placenta to attached it's self to my uterus wall, it attached too low. It is completely covering my cervix, making vaginal birth impossible. Impossible like, the baby and myself can die. So this means I can't go into labor, have to have a c-section 3 weeks before my due date and for a few weeks I had to be put on "light bed rest" to avoid any bleeding, because when you have a previa, bleeding is very bad, mmkoi? All it entailed in the beginning, was cut work hours down from 40 to 30, no lifting of anything over 15 pounds, no exercise and no sex. Ok this sucks, but I can live with that if it means my baby and myself are healthy.
Flash forward a few weeks...I'm at work, under some stress because I was put onto insulin for Gestational Diabetes and just general stress and I begin to spot again. In a panic I call my ob and she tells me that is it, FULL BED REST until baby comes.
Ummmm are you for real!?!?
Oh yes, she was for real.

As of today, I have been on bed rest nearly 10 weeks. Yes friends, 9.5 long weeks. In those 9.5 weeks, I have managed to watch every interesting documentary on Netflix, make 20 pair of beaded earrings, re-watch all my seasons of CSI Vegas, watch all of the slightly and even not so interesting television shows on Netflix and Hulu, fold and re-fold all the babies clothes, aaaaannnnd found the time to develop pregnancy induced Asthma. Yes, I hit the jackpot friends.

I have had to go to labor and delivery twice for some scares, but thankfully everything went well and everything is still planned for a Jan 13 birth.
Despite all these really crappy things, our son, (yes it is a boy), is perfectly healthy, growing at a normal rate, has no issues, and will be here in 16 more days. Yes I am ecstatic. I have tried so very hard to stay positive with this pregnancy, and had a few moments of breaking down feeling like I couldn't get through all this and being upset that I wasn't having the pregnancy I had hoped for nor would I have the birth Cory and I had dreamed of for over two years.
Then reality slapped me, hard. I am PREGNANT...hellooooo dummy, WE DID IT...after trying for over two years and 5 rounds of Clomid! Cory and I created a life. So what it has been hard on my body, so what Cory and I are barely making ends meet on one salary while I'm off work for nearly 4 months. I will be ok once baby comes, my body will go back to normal and my son is healthy...we really did it. This is for sure my first, and last, pregnancy and I am truly blessed and grateful. Period.


As far as "BAD" goes, that is it really. I mean there have been a lot of horrific things happening in the world, but I can't let myself go down that rabbit hole right now. I have to focus on Kai, and Cory and Chekota. My family. Now that I have a family, it's what I care about first and foremost. I get it now. All those years trying to understand how parents sacrifice so much for their family, how Cory and I are making plans and decisions for our kids. Totes a game changer.
Now for the GOOOOOD!
Chekota is ours! Her bio parents gave up parental rights to her two months ago as they realized they can not care for her and felt it was not in Chekota's best interest to take her from the only home and family she has known. They had a second child in the process of all this. Her adoption is almost final and we decided to have an open adoption so when Chekota is old enough and want's to know who her bio parents are, she will have that option. It was a long and hard year for everyone. I opened up to her bio mom and managed to build a good relationship with her. She knows Chekota is safe and loved and that we will never say mean things about her to Chekota. It is not our place and Chekota needs to figure out how she feels about where she came from on her own. All she knows now is that she is loved and safe. Fostering kids is such a wonderful gift and true challenge of what you are capable of giving with no guarantees. We truly were blessed when that little girl entered our life. So yeah, two kids in one year. Wheeeew.

We moved yet again this year, out to Gresham. I know, Gresham, but really it isn't bad. It's just like the Valley, seriously. Our apartment is nice and has a washer and dryer in the unit. Our neighbors.....eah I wouldn't be sad if they moved out..but no need to get ugly in the "Good" section of this wrap up!

We keep talking about moving to LA, moving to Vermont, moving to St. Johns.....we just need to get through Kai's birth, settle back into our "normal" life, and go from there. So maybe in another year or so, we will have a better grasp on what in the hell we are doing.

Work is still amazing and hard and wonderful and I miss being there with my NAYA family so much. Only another month then I will be back in the fold, and I can't wait.
There is so much more, but I will keep that private...just a lot of friend love going around and family love and I just am truly grateful for all of you.
Now onto the photos!

Change

So yeah, I suck as a blogger, sorry. I am not even aware if anyone even reads this, and honestly my life has been so hectic, blogging has been the last thing on my list. But today I dedicate some time to you dear reader(s).

So last entry was, oh what in February? Umm, so Chekota turned one, we are still having court battles to keep her, Cory and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary, oh and I'm pregnant.

Yes, we did it, FINALLY! Fucking miracle. My OB told me at my first ultrasound appointment, "Honey after your surgery, I really wasn't sure if you were going to be able to conceive". But we fucking did it! I knew as soon as I was really done trying, something would happen, I was just praying it wouldn't be "Octomom-PDX". What we know thus far is baby Dow is due Feb 4th 2013, strong heartbeat, and I'm doing good. I have had all day sickness really, feels a lot like being motion sick, ALL DAY. I've also been tired beyond belief.

It's strange, I always imagined pregnancy one way, but it's not at all how I dreamed it. Maybe because I never thought it would happen for me....but here I sit, bloated, pregnant belly popped, nauseous, and rosy cheeked.

I promise to update more about the baby as the pregnancy moves forward.
Other than that, nothing else seems noteworthy. I'm just in that usual space of work, family life, loathing of Portland weather and the majority of it's resident-hipster-poseur-I'm-so-cool-but-really-I'm-just-copying-what-every one-that-was-rad-in-the-'80s-did-even though-the-'80s-sucked-scene. Well I had fun in the '80s, but then again I was a teenager going into my twenties then, so of course it was fun. Yes I said it. I'm SO OVER you and your revival of whacky. It's not whacky, and you are only "cool" in your bubble. Maybe you need that bubble to feel validated, and hopefully you will find a space where you don't NEED validation or a bubble to feel good about who you are. You are cool and rad all by yourself. I guess I will never understand the carbon copy-ness of younger generations. My friends and I never looked alike, so it is strange to me. Ahhh well, I'm 40, what do I know.

Maybe this is what happens when your no longer interested in youth culture and you really just like what you have liked for the last two decades. Eah I'm just a bitch sometimes, but that is ok, at least I'm honest.

Wee photo update: