As I was laying in bed trying to fall asleep last night, my mind started wandering, as it usually does. I was thinking about a conversation I had with my husband in the car a few weeks ago. Garth Brooks was on the radio singing "Unanswered Prayers" and Ben said that it was his song to me, referring of course to a previous relationship that he had prayed would work out, but was now thankful that it had not. It occurred to me last night that the best things in my life were the result of unanswered prayers.
I thought back to when I was 18. In a relationship that I shouldn't have been in. Sitting at a friends house waiting for the results of a pregnancy test and PRAYING that it would be negative. I wasn't ready for a baby. If I'm being honest, at that time in my life I didn't think I wanted children at all. I wanted to be a kid, not have a kid. The test, of course, was positive, and 9 months later I was blessed with my Nathan. In a lot of ways we would grow up together over the next couple years. He has been a large part of making me who I am today. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be who I am, or where I am. Unanswered Prayer.
Around that same time in my life I started asking God to make my relationship with Nathans father work out. I loved him. I needed him. Or so I thought. I dreamed about how we would raise Nathan together. Buy a house someday and live happily ever after. Little did I know that there was another plan in place for me. One that would take more than a decade to unfold. One that would bring Ben into my life. It was a long and sometimes heartbreaking road, but it ended with me finding a man that not only loves me, but WANTS me... wants me for who I am, not who I pretend to be. He loves me, faults and all. He was worth the pain and the heartbreak that came before him. He was worth the wait. Unanswered Prayer.
After Ben and I were married, we started trying to have a baby. In July of 2010 we found out that we were expecting, and just a short time later, I lost the baby. I prayed, I pleaded, I begged God to let this baby live. I screamed and cried and felt completely hopeless. Why? Why couldn't I just have this baby? May 14th, 2011 I found out why. The moment Grace was born I knew that she was meant to be mine all along. She is a happy, smiling, chubby, snuggly, amazing little girl. She has brought SO much joy into the lives of the people that love her already, and my life wouldn't be the same without her. Unanswered Prayer.
It's hard sometimes to understand why things happen the way that they do. It's especially hard for someone who needs to have constant control. Faith is a hard rule to follow. But when I look back at all the things that didn't work out the way I wanted. All the things that I didn't get that I thought I needed. I realize that there is a definite plan in place for me, and everything has happened exactly the way it was supposed to.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Being the wife of a musician...
I support my husband. He is a musician and that takes him away from home on a fairly regular basis. In addition to his 40+ hour a week day job, he is often gone 2 or 3 nights a week with band related things. He is incredibly talented, and that isn't just a proud wife talking. Music is in his blood, he needs it to survive. Music was his first love, it came along way before I did and it's not going anywhere, nor would I want it to. Being a lover of music myself, although lacking the talent to create it, I feel like I can safely say that I understand his passion for it. All that being said, it's still not easy to deal with.
Nearly every weekend, I kiss my husband goodbye and watch him leave to go perform. He stands on a stage for 3 or 4 hours with 4 other incredibly talented men and entertains people. He makes me SO proud, so it's really hard for me to say that a lot of times I hate it. It's not the music that I hate, or even him being gone so much, although that does suck. What makes me uncomfortable is some of the people that are there for the show. Yes people, I'm talking about the women. I want to state clearly for the record that I trust my husband 100%. This is not about jealousy on my part or worrying that my husband will cheat. This is about respect. There are always women that come to shows that somehow think that these men are onstage for them. Not for their entertainment, but for THEM. These men get onstage and perform. From my experience it's about 95% music and 5% acting. Unfortunately, some of these women get a few drinks in them and suddenly think that jumping onstage and grinding on other women’s husbands is acceptable. Never mind the tens of thousands of dollars of equipment and instruments that they are stumbling around. They forget that although these guys are there to entertain them with music, they are not their property to touch, dance on, etc.
I have been going to see local bands for a long time, a lot longer than I've known my husband, and I have NEVER acted inappropriately with any member of any band, much less a married one. I like to go out, have a couple drinks, dance, and have a good time, and I can accomplish all these things without making a fool of myself or being disrespectful to other peoples spouses. Why can't everyone? Why is it that these women can't stop and think about the fact that these men are taken, or even the sacrifices that spouses of musicians make, and respect that. Why do lines have to be crossed? The truth of the matter is, it ruins OUR fun to have to watch that behavior, or worse yet, have to think about what might be going on when we aren't able to make a show because we are at home raising these men’s children, even if we are 100% confident that our spouses won't stray.
I guess the point of all my rambling is simple. Ladies, come to their shows, have a good time, but please respect the musicians and their private lives as you would want us to respect yours, but most of all, show some respect for yourself and find yourself a good man that YOU can be proud of. Ours are taken.
Nearly every weekend, I kiss my husband goodbye and watch him leave to go perform. He stands on a stage for 3 or 4 hours with 4 other incredibly talented men and entertains people. He makes me SO proud, so it's really hard for me to say that a lot of times I hate it. It's not the music that I hate, or even him being gone so much, although that does suck. What makes me uncomfortable is some of the people that are there for the show. Yes people, I'm talking about the women. I want to state clearly for the record that I trust my husband 100%. This is not about jealousy on my part or worrying that my husband will cheat. This is about respect. There are always women that come to shows that somehow think that these men are onstage for them. Not for their entertainment, but for THEM. These men get onstage and perform. From my experience it's about 95% music and 5% acting. Unfortunately, some of these women get a few drinks in them and suddenly think that jumping onstage and grinding on other women’s husbands is acceptable. Never mind the tens of thousands of dollars of equipment and instruments that they are stumbling around. They forget that although these guys are there to entertain them with music, they are not their property to touch, dance on, etc.
I have been going to see local bands for a long time, a lot longer than I've known my husband, and I have NEVER acted inappropriately with any member of any band, much less a married one. I like to go out, have a couple drinks, dance, and have a good time, and I can accomplish all these things without making a fool of myself or being disrespectful to other peoples spouses. Why can't everyone? Why is it that these women can't stop and think about the fact that these men are taken, or even the sacrifices that spouses of musicians make, and respect that. Why do lines have to be crossed? The truth of the matter is, it ruins OUR fun to have to watch that behavior, or worse yet, have to think about what might be going on when we aren't able to make a show because we are at home raising these men’s children, even if we are 100% confident that our spouses won't stray.
I guess the point of all my rambling is simple. Ladies, come to their shows, have a good time, but please respect the musicians and their private lives as you would want us to respect yours, but most of all, show some respect for yourself and find yourself a good man that YOU can be proud of. Ours are taken.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Peeves... Pet and Otherwise
I have several pet peeves. Things that irritate me. Things that make me want to look at people and call them morons. Since I don't want to make all of these people completely mad at me, I'll just write about them here and then when they ask if I was referring to them I'll say "Of course not!" ;) So here are a few of the more annoying ones, in no particular order:
1. Kicking the back of my seat in the car. If you are sitting behind me in the car, please either hold your feet still or drive yourself. Kicking the back of my seat will only make me want to drive us all off the road. Not good.
2. The misuse of the words "then" and "than." THEN is a word that refers to a period of time. For instance: I will write this blog and THEN I will deny that it's about anyone I am close to. The word THAN is a word used for comparison purposes. For instance: People who know the difference between these words are smarter THAN you.
3. Misuse of the "@" symbol. You would think in a time where people use this symbol to type email addresses and websites, they would figure out that it means AT, yet here I am explaining to people that you cannot use it to mean ABOUT. It does not mean "about." You can not tell me @ something. Ugggggh!!!
4. People who leave voicemails on cell phones saying "It's me, just call me back." Um, I know it's you. The reason that I know it's you is because sometime in the 90's an incredibly smart person brought the caller ID to consumers like you and me, and I use it.
Ok, I've complained enough for one day... just one question... Is there anyone out there whose pet peeve is bloggers who complain too much?? ;)
1. Kicking the back of my seat in the car. If you are sitting behind me in the car, please either hold your feet still or drive yourself. Kicking the back of my seat will only make me want to drive us all off the road. Not good.
2. The misuse of the words "then" and "than." THEN is a word that refers to a period of time. For instance: I will write this blog and THEN I will deny that it's about anyone I am close to. The word THAN is a word used for comparison purposes. For instance: People who know the difference between these words are smarter THAN you.
3. Misuse of the "@" symbol. You would think in a time where people use this symbol to type email addresses and websites, they would figure out that it means AT, yet here I am explaining to people that you cannot use it to mean ABOUT. It does not mean "about." You can not tell me @ something. Ugggggh!!!
4. People who leave voicemails on cell phones saying "It's me, just call me back." Um, I know it's you. The reason that I know it's you is because sometime in the 90's an incredibly smart person brought the caller ID to consumers like you and me, and I use it.
Ok, I've complained enough for one day... just one question... Is there anyone out there whose pet peeve is bloggers who complain too much?? ;)
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
I'm a work in progress.
Everyone has issues. Some are big, some are small, but we all have them. I struggle with demons from my past, and when I say struggle I mean I fight them every day.
When I was 15 years old I met a boy who would eventually become the father of my son. He was the guy all the girls wanted. He was good looking and charming, he was fun to be around, and he was the "bad boy". He was the wild one that couldn't be tamed and me being the stubborn girl with "daddy issues", well I was going to tame him. For the better part of 4 years I tried... sometimes I made progress and sometimes I didn't. What I didn't know then was that you can't make someone be what you want them to be.
When I got pregnant I thought that maybe this was exactly what we needed to finally settle down. I was SO wrong. When children try to be adults, ugly things can happen. The stress of going from a carefree teenager to a parent proved to be too much for us. To say that the relationship turned ugly would be an understatement. Things became constantly strained and tense and eventually the screaming matches turned physical.
We were both at fault, we were both to blame. Our lack of maturity prevented us from expressing our frustrations in a positive manner and it wasn't healthy for anyone involved, so we split up. I have a lot of residual hurt from those years. It's easy for me to say that I'm over it, and that I dealt with it, and in a lot of ways I have. However the other night while talking to my husband, a realization hit me.
When I look at my son, I see his father. His facial expressions, his smile, the way he purses his lips when he's trying to pull one over on me, the anger in his eyes when he thinks I'm being unfair, and even some of the things that he says. It's hard, I've known that for years, but what I just realized was WHY. It's hard to raise a child that I love so much, when he reminds me SO MUCH of a time in my life that was so painful. I wouldn't change one second of my life, because if I did, I wouldn't be where I am and I wouldn't have the child that I have. What I need to remember is that it's not Nathans fault that he looks like his dad, and it's not Nathans fault that he wants to be just like his dad. I made choices that laid the foundation of his life and I need to try and remember when he's pushing me to my limits that he's Nathan... not his father.
Somehow through all of my wrong turns, I made a few correct ones. I have not only somehow managed to raise a child that is turning into a man that I am proud of, but I also found a man that loves me despite my "issues", and together we created the most beautiful, happy little girl that I've ever seen. My husband understands my demons, he watches me fight them and he steps in when he knows I'm losing the battle. He understands that sometimes I build walls around myself and that more often than not, I need him to help me tear them down. He takes me for what I am below the surface and understands that what I let most people see isn't always the "real" me. He knows that I'm a work in progress, and he loves me anyway.
When I was 15 years old I met a boy who would eventually become the father of my son. He was the guy all the girls wanted. He was good looking and charming, he was fun to be around, and he was the "bad boy". He was the wild one that couldn't be tamed and me being the stubborn girl with "daddy issues", well I was going to tame him. For the better part of 4 years I tried... sometimes I made progress and sometimes I didn't. What I didn't know then was that you can't make someone be what you want them to be.
When I got pregnant I thought that maybe this was exactly what we needed to finally settle down. I was SO wrong. When children try to be adults, ugly things can happen. The stress of going from a carefree teenager to a parent proved to be too much for us. To say that the relationship turned ugly would be an understatement. Things became constantly strained and tense and eventually the screaming matches turned physical.
We were both at fault, we were both to blame. Our lack of maturity prevented us from expressing our frustrations in a positive manner and it wasn't healthy for anyone involved, so we split up. I have a lot of residual hurt from those years. It's easy for me to say that I'm over it, and that I dealt with it, and in a lot of ways I have. However the other night while talking to my husband, a realization hit me.
When I look at my son, I see his father. His facial expressions, his smile, the way he purses his lips when he's trying to pull one over on me, the anger in his eyes when he thinks I'm being unfair, and even some of the things that he says. It's hard, I've known that for years, but what I just realized was WHY. It's hard to raise a child that I love so much, when he reminds me SO MUCH of a time in my life that was so painful. I wouldn't change one second of my life, because if I did, I wouldn't be where I am and I wouldn't have the child that I have. What I need to remember is that it's not Nathans fault that he looks like his dad, and it's not Nathans fault that he wants to be just like his dad. I made choices that laid the foundation of his life and I need to try and remember when he's pushing me to my limits that he's Nathan... not his father.
Somehow through all of my wrong turns, I made a few correct ones. I have not only somehow managed to raise a child that is turning into a man that I am proud of, but I also found a man that loves me despite my "issues", and together we created the most beautiful, happy little girl that I've ever seen. My husband understands my demons, he watches me fight them and he steps in when he knows I'm losing the battle. He understands that sometimes I build walls around myself and that more often than not, I need him to help me tear them down. He takes me for what I am below the surface and understands that what I let most people see isn't always the "real" me. He knows that I'm a work in progress, and he loves me anyway.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Breaking The Cycle
Tomorrow my baby starts High School. He starts High School. Nathan is starting High School. It doesn't matter how I say it, or how many times I say it, I just can't believe it. I can remember holding his hand when we crossed the street. Rocking him to sleep at night. Walking him into pre-school for the first time. The first time he said "ma-ma". Watching him sleep when he was a baby. Kissing the tears away when he fell down and skinned his knee. Putting together his tricycle. How did he grow up so fast?
I'm met with mixed emotions. I'm excited for him, I'm scared for him, I'm scared for me. High School for me was the beginning of a downward slide of bad choices. I'm terrified that my son will make the same mistakes. He will be met with new freedom that he's never experienced before. He will be mixed in with kids that are 2, 3 and 4 years older than he is. Kids that have made certain choices about sex, alcohol, drugs, or cigarettes that I don't want him choosing.
So I'm presented with the question; Have I done enough to prepare him? The answer is no, because no matter what, you can always do more. I could have had more talks with him. I could have stressed the importance of staying in school even more than I already have. I could have told him how proud I am of him even more often than I have. I could have also locked him in the basement and lost the key until he's about 25... wait, I might still have time for that one! I have never been so afraid in my entire life.
Nathans father and I both left high school before we finished. We also both eventually went back and got diplomas after the fact, but that is not something that I deem acceptable for our son. We also got pregnant just out of high school. That is ABSOLUTELY not ok for Nathan to do. Nathan is going to do things differently. The cycle ends here. I screwed a lot of things up for myself and it made my journey a lot harder than it needed to be. I will not let him do the same.
I have heard a lot over the last several years from members of my family that I am "too hard" on Nathan. I don't agree. My family was not hard enough on me. I'm in no way blaming them for the mistakes that I made, however I do believe that I made some of those decisions because I knew I would get away with it. My son should know that he won't. I look at him in the same way that I'm sure my mom looked at me when I was starting high school. He has so much promise. He's smart and funny and sweet and loving. Sometimes I can't believe that even through all of the parental mistakes I've made over the years, he has still turned into such an amazing young man.
So now I wait. I wait and hope that everything that I've taught him up until now will stick with him, and I will continue to stress the importance of making good choices and hope that somehow I get through to him. I have a feeling I will spend a good part of the next four years holding my breath, with my fingers crossed, while praying... feel free to join me.
I'm met with mixed emotions. I'm excited for him, I'm scared for him, I'm scared for me. High School for me was the beginning of a downward slide of bad choices. I'm terrified that my son will make the same mistakes. He will be met with new freedom that he's never experienced before. He will be mixed in with kids that are 2, 3 and 4 years older than he is. Kids that have made certain choices about sex, alcohol, drugs, or cigarettes that I don't want him choosing.
So I'm presented with the question; Have I done enough to prepare him? The answer is no, because no matter what, you can always do more. I could have had more talks with him. I could have stressed the importance of staying in school even more than I already have. I could have told him how proud I am of him even more often than I have. I could have also locked him in the basement and lost the key until he's about 25... wait, I might still have time for that one! I have never been so afraid in my entire life.
Nathans father and I both left high school before we finished. We also both eventually went back and got diplomas after the fact, but that is not something that I deem acceptable for our son. We also got pregnant just out of high school. That is ABSOLUTELY not ok for Nathan to do. Nathan is going to do things differently. The cycle ends here. I screwed a lot of things up for myself and it made my journey a lot harder than it needed to be. I will not let him do the same.
I have heard a lot over the last several years from members of my family that I am "too hard" on Nathan. I don't agree. My family was not hard enough on me. I'm in no way blaming them for the mistakes that I made, however I do believe that I made some of those decisions because I knew I would get away with it. My son should know that he won't. I look at him in the same way that I'm sure my mom looked at me when I was starting high school. He has so much promise. He's smart and funny and sweet and loving. Sometimes I can't believe that even through all of the parental mistakes I've made over the years, he has still turned into such an amazing young man.
So now I wait. I wait and hope that everything that I've taught him up until now will stick with him, and I will continue to stress the importance of making good choices and hope that somehow I get through to him. I have a feeling I will spend a good part of the next four years holding my breath, with my fingers crossed, while praying... feel free to join me.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Finding Security
I've always been fairly independent. More on the "leader" side than the side of "follower". My mother taught me well. She raised my sister and I for the majority of our lives without any help and made it look easy, although I know it wasn't. I always thought that independence was a good thing, and in a lot of ways it is. I've been raised to know how to do things that usually fall into the category of male responsibility. I can replace the inner workings of a toilet, I know how to shut off the water valve in case of a leak, put up weather stripping, change a flat tire, check my oil, and I'm pretty handy with a hammer and nail. I have proudly stated dozens of times over the course of the last 10 or so years that I didn't "need" a man and that I could take care of myself. This is still true to a certain degree, but something has shifted.
I can remember telling my husband in the very early stages of our relationship that even though I loved him, I would never "need" him. The thought of it makes me cringe now. What a horrible thing to say. What I was trying to communicate was that I wasn't needy, that I wasn't looking for a caretaker, I was looking for a partner. I didn't communicate it very well at all. I can't even imagine what it probably felt like for him to hear me say that, and I'm sure that he'll never admit it, but it probably hurt his feelings.
The truth is, I don't NEED him in the literal sense. I would survive if I didn't have him. But all literal definitions aside, I really do need him. I need him for the support he gives me. I need him to help me raise our daughter. I need him to reassure me when I'm feeling unsure. I need him to be by my side and most of all, I need him to love me. He provides me with something that no one else has been able to give me. Security. I know that no matter what happens I will always have someone on my side. No matter how badly I screw something up I know that he will stand by me.
I hope that he knows that I was wrong when I said I'd never need him. I hope he knows that I've never counted on someone as much as I do him, and that I never even trusted anyone enough to be able to count on them. I also hope that I've provided him with some sense of security and that he needs me even half as much as I need him.
I can remember telling my husband in the very early stages of our relationship that even though I loved him, I would never "need" him. The thought of it makes me cringe now. What a horrible thing to say. What I was trying to communicate was that I wasn't needy, that I wasn't looking for a caretaker, I was looking for a partner. I didn't communicate it very well at all. I can't even imagine what it probably felt like for him to hear me say that, and I'm sure that he'll never admit it, but it probably hurt his feelings.
The truth is, I don't NEED him in the literal sense. I would survive if I didn't have him. But all literal definitions aside, I really do need him. I need him for the support he gives me. I need him to help me raise our daughter. I need him to reassure me when I'm feeling unsure. I need him to be by my side and most of all, I need him to love me. He provides me with something that no one else has been able to give me. Security. I know that no matter what happens I will always have someone on my side. No matter how badly I screw something up I know that he will stand by me.
I hope that he knows that I was wrong when I said I'd never need him. I hope he knows that I've never counted on someone as much as I do him, and that I never even trusted anyone enough to be able to count on them. I also hope that I've provided him with some sense of security and that he needs me even half as much as I need him.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
My Greatest Loss
One year ago this month I was the saddest I've ever been.
My husband and I found out we were expecting a baby... and 3 days later, I lost that baby.
There really aren't words to properly express how I felt. I was miserable. I felt loss like I had never felt it before. I cried for days. I knew that there was nothing that I could have done to prevent it and that I didn't do anything to cause it and still I blamed myself. I never felt this baby move, heard it's heartbeat, or saw it on an ultrasound and yet I loved it.
My husband was amazing. Through his pain he focused only on me. He held me while I cried, he told me he loved me, he asked what he could do to help. There was nothing he could do. I could see that he was worried about me. He had never seen me in that state before and I'm sure it was probably a shock given that I always pride myself on being so outwardly strong.
Possibly the hardest part of this harsh reality was that in our excitement about the baby we had "announced" my pregnancy on Facebook. Literally one of my first thoughts when I realized I was miscarrying was "this is why you don't tell people this early." I was ashamed, and now I had to publicly announce that I had lost this precious gift that I had been given.
I waited a day or two, and ignored the "congratulations" and well wishes that I received on my facebook page. Every notification was like a knife to my heart. Here were people who were genuinely happy for us, wanting to share in our joy, and it nearly killed me every time I'd read another one. Then after a few days, I posted the news.
I braced myself. I'm not sure what I was expecting... probably a few people offering their condolences, and maybe some more well meaning people trying to comfort me by saying things like "at least it was early enough that you didn't feel it move." (yes, people actually said things like that to me) What I received was more than I could have asked for. I got reassurance. In addition to the dozens of people who expressed their sorrow for us publicly, I also got private messages from several women. I won't name them here because they know who they are, but what they did was tell me that they understood. It had happened to them too. Some of them had been through one miscarriage, some had been through two or three or even more. Some of these women are friends of mine, and some are casual aquaintences. These women took their pain and used it to help me heal. What an incredible thing. I know it wasn't easy for them to relive those feelings, but they did. They reached out because they knew.
I like to find positive things in the midst of negativity. In addition to those amazing women who shared their experiences with me, I got a second chance. Just 5 weeks after I lost our baby, I found out that I was pregnant again and May 14th I gave birth to my second chance. I was terrified thoroughout most of my pregnancy. As any woman who has lost a baby knows, once you experience it, you're afraid that it will happen again. I have to look at my miscarriage as a stepping stone to my daughter, because without it, I wouldn't have her. God knew something about the first baby that I didn't, and I have to trust that He knew what was best for me. He doesn't make mistakes, and I have the proof...
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