Yesterday, M let me know she was not pregnant. Is it crazy I get more down about that than she does? I'm starting to believe her when she said she isn't sure she can have kids. But due to this recent cancer scare, I guess this could be for the best. She's getting tested tomorrow, results back in about a week. Until then, there's nothing to do but wait.

I have a blog topic I really want to write - it'll have to be for tomorrow. I'm feeling lazy this Sunday blog. Like, cut this short, curl up in bed and listen to the rain fall, lazy.

See ya tomorrow

Tested

Today's post is a 'what if' blog.

Out of all our friends, we are the only one with kids. Which is a lot like being under house arrest while everyone else runs free. They don't understand the needing to be home for early bedtimes, what it's like to go weeks without sleep cause of a newborn or how much we dread long car rides because Naomi hates the car seat. We so look forward to the day someone else has kids so we can finally share this part of our lives with someone. (Our oldest is turning four, how does no one have kids!?)

Now our very best friends, they recently got married. And we all know, next comes the baby in the baby carriage and I was thrilled when M told me they were finally ready to try.

First month, nothing. Same for month two and three. I swear I probably was watching her cycles closer than she was. 

Here we are in month four and I get this text:

'between you me and the wall, I'm 4 days late'

That was two days ago. Now M has done this in the past, been several days late and several negative tests later, the dreaded Aunt Flo will show and we both will be disappointed. 

This time she has refused to test so far. I think in part she's afraid of seeing another negative like so many other times. But I think this time she's more worried about seeing a positive.

You see, my awesome friend M is going in on Monday to get a biopsy on the lymph nodes in her neck. My very good friend might have cancer and if she does, she will need to undergo aggressive chemo. 

I'm no doctor but I do know chemo and pregnancy can't possibly end well.

This is a lot of 'what ifs'. 

She could be late. She could be pregnant. Those massive lymph nodes could be cancer and I'm not well studied enough on the neck to know what else it could be but it could be something else.

On this Saturday post, I'm playing with the what ifs. I think everyone always prepares for the worst. This time I'm hoping for the best - that our friends join us on our epic parenthood journey and that my BFF doesn't have cancer or anything bad. I know these aren't my calls to make.

So lets add accepting grace on my wish list.

Thoughts and prayers always welcome.

Until next time

Hybrid Stay-at-home mom

I have never met another 'stay-at-home' mom like me and even though it feels strange writing a blog for an audience that contains only myself - I do so thinking that maybe, just maybe, the internet will point someone else to this that can relate.

Without further ado, I present the only Hybrid, stay-at-home mom I know. Me.

And I've decided it's because not many people are this idiotic.

Let me explain.

Mom's fall in to two basic categories -  stay at home, go to work. 

These are mind sets first and foremost and lifestyles only after the fact. Not all mom's who are wired with the desire to be stay at homes get to. And likewise, some go to works still leave their job and raise their kids full time. Money, personal belief, culture, extended family, age of the child/children - a million things play in to where these moms end up falling.

I was always decidedly a 'go to work' mom. I love going in to work, always have. With my first daughter, I was back at work two weeks after having her. (Pumped to death to make sure she got exclusive breast milk - not that fun) and now that I have been allowed to be home with my second daughter full time, I realize I have had a shift in the way I think. I now regret not taking more time to be at home with my first.

When I was offered the chance to work full time from home, I was so very happy. The best of both worlds, right? Go to work in my PJ's and get to raise my kids?? Paycheck and no daycare?! 

The reality of it has been a balancing act, to put it mildly.

My job is not easy. My job is stressful and demanding and usually involves meeting three to four strict deadlines a day. I won't get in to it but suffice to say, my job was demanding when I could dedicate all my attention to it.


Now throw in a five month old who's happiest time is being at the breast for hours at a stretch. I have a boppy at my desk, and she will nurse as I type over her. Add a hyper nearly four year old that, rightly so, craves all my attention - I'm not proud to say it but Ipad has been a lifesaver.

My mom has been my biggest blessing in this. She comes over almost daily and that really helps with my oldest. She takes her out and plays with her when I can't. I don't get anymore work done on the days she's here than when she's not because kids are hardwired - they want mom - but I do feel less stressed.

I look at the mom's that are strictly stay at homes and I am jealous. They get to be present for their kiddos. I get to give 75%. They get to go out. I go out and I'm stressed the entire time wondering what emails/deadlines/emergencies I am missing.

Even my sister, who works with me and was also granted the ability to work at home, has told me flat out, she will be a stay at home only and that I'm crazy to do both.

And I am.

But there's no support group I have found for the working stay at home. I am head of a massive department that handles billions of dollars of revenue, I have seven people that work under me and often need direction. 

I need a dang support group. I need someone that understands not only did I not get the dishes done today but I didn't meet an important deadline either because my youngest is teething.

Why not quit? You might be asking at this point. Because I am a go to work mom. If you don't get that mindset, I can't explain it. 

So why not go to work? Would be the next question - why stress yourself out like this? Because I have now become an at home mom too. When I have to go in for training I miss my girls and ache for them. My youngest will not take a bottle and the thought of her sipping out of a cup crying for me breaks my heart. My oldest is starting to be able to carry on a real conversation with me and I feel the loss of each word I don't get to hear.

So I do both. And some days, I feel like superman. Yes, I did just feed both my kids, clean the kitchen and get all my work done. I am unstoppable, thank you very much.

Some days are low, stress filled and I really really want to cry or run away to the zoo.

And sometimes, I wonder what my kids will think, looking back. Will they remember the at home mom or the at work mom? Will they grow up with the mindset and expectation they can do both? Or am I cementing in them the same reaction my sister had:

I was crazy.

Until next time.

Quick update

Email sent! And the classes are called, RICA or 'Rite of Christian Initiation' and the 'A' stands for adult I am assuming?

I'll edit this post when/if I hear back.  

EDIT:

I did hear back from, I shall call her Mary; she came across as warm and understanding as possible in email form.

She let me know that there are others in the RICA class that have gone through divorce and that I was not alone, nor in any way would I be turned away because of it. I would need to get my first marriage annulled but there would be further discussion on this in class.

So there you have it! Feeling much better having that weight lifted.

Or my search for God.

Well here comes a long post.

No sense in beating around the bush. I plan on writing a blog and I plan on writing it about God. Or more correctly, my search for God. I'm probably not going to keep this PC. (Pretty sure when you bring up God or politics, that flies out the window anyway).

I feel like some background is needed.

For the majority of my life, I have never had religion. I have been, what I consider, to be an average, casual observer of various belief systems but never invested too much time or consideration in to any of them. I like to think I'm fairly spiritual but not religious.

That all changed a few weeks ago.

First, you should know I have a rabid appetite for learning. About anything. A topic/subject catches even my passing attention and I research it obsessively (Love you Google! ) until I tire myself out. Usually takes a two days of nonstop reading. I horde random information like some people do Beanie Babies - fun to obtain, rather useless afterwards.

So one night, I got it in my head that I wanted to see what people more intelligent than I thought about the existence of God.

Mistake. Oh mistake.

Asking the scientific community about God was not unlike offering up your most tender bits to a sand blaster. They found little nuggets of hope and belief I didn't even know I had and destroyed them.

What's worse, they did it with facts and research and incredibly complex studies of the human mind that I can't remember well enough to quote - likely because each sentence was robbing me of vital things - but by the end of that night, only one word could sum up how I felt.

Devastated.

Now, I can't stress this enough, I have never been religious. 

I studied biology in college, I'm a big believer in scientific method and 85% of the things I just take as a given are directly challenged by most religions. In all reality, it should have followed that there was no place for God there and you'd think I wouldn't have been shocked to be so thoroughly chastised with their numbers and charts and studies.

I was equal parts amazed and horrified that I had such a profound inner belief system, unknown to myself, that I could be heartbroken when it was shattered.

And that's what I was. Utterly and completely heartbroken.

I spiraled in to depression. Me, the never ever get down for more than a day, happy upbeat, me!

 I was so depressed, it felt hard to breathe. I actually researched postpartum depression - my daughter was four months at the time - because there was no way not believing in God anymore could make me feel like this. Like a limb had been chopped off. 

But it did.

There was no God. Science had proven that beyond a doubt. No souls, no afterlife, no higher power.

I think these were some of my darker days. I struggled and pretended I was fine. Because, if there was no God, no higher power, what really was the point? No one could fix that. No pill make it better, nothing to talk through. Everything was felt pointless.

I desperately begin talking to my more religious/spiritual friends and family. I asked for prayers, direction, advice. I had this gaping wound where a beautiful thing once was and I probably couldn't fix it. How could I ever learn to live with it? Why did they believe? Had they not researched? Did they not know about all those charts and facts or did they dismiss them? 

I wish I could have. They loomed very large in my mind, shooting down any defense I tried to build to get that glimmer of hope back.

Very dark times. 

I did almost ask some of my openly atheist friends how they dealt with the soul shattering truth of not believing in a God/afterlife but couldn't bring myself to. What if, deep down, they too had a secret belief? Maybe one they never shared but a hope for a bright light and happy ending? Maybe they were completely open to finding God and were simply waiting to hear the right argument  see the right miracle  

What if by me asking for coping skills, they came to the same terrible gut retching realizations I had?

Cause honestly, I felt that in the absolute absence of faith, I had created a vacuum in myself of despair. 

At the behest of my sister, I prayed - me, who have made a thousand mocking comments about prayer, now gave it my heartfelt all.

I don't remember exactly what I prayed about, only that I gave it my all.

And... and I'm probably going to lose some people here but regardless.

That hope? That part of me that was more real than my limbs? That unnameable thing I had never been aware of till it was ripped from me?

It came back.

It felt like someone had turned on the warm water and it slowly filled up that terrible black hole.

I didn't have answers, there was no 'ah ha!' moment of God showing me the divine way or some arguement that popped in to my head that erased all the charts and facts I had read.

It was more like, I had been shut out of Home and suddenly, I was let back in. 

That simple. That profound. 

As quickly as it had struck me down, the depression, the dark hopelessness, was gone. I was ok again. Not fake it till you make it ok. Deep down, could inhale a deep breath again, life is wonderful, ok again.

It was a startling thing.

I drug my sister to Mass with me that week. A gorgeous place called Immaculate Heart of Mary.

I don't know why I picked that church, I'm much  closer to Christian in terms of raising and background. And I had no idea what they were talking about and I felt terribly out of place and I'm sure all the elderly people that wake up to go to Mass at 8:30 on a Friday were wondering about the two 'youngins' hanging out in the back and I had to take all my cues from my sister but...

But I was there.

I was there God.

I took my sister to the front desk after and we filled out the paperwork to start classes - I have no idea what the correct term is - but classes to become Catholic? Take Mass? Ok so I'm still not sure and they asked some questions I'm felt awkward answering and I'm feeling a healthy bit of trepidation about cause I know I've committed at least one grave sin (divorcee, ouch!)

But still. I'm trying and I guess I have to believe even with that red mark against me, there's forgiveness out there. So if I have to spend the next week till class dreading what they are going to say - I'm fairly sure they aren't going to turn me away? Right? Anyone?

...

So yeah, I'm probably going to call them at some point cause now that I've written that out I'm more worried about it than I thought. Is getting a divorce a 'say fifty hail mary's' kind of thing? Did it matter we didn't get married in a church, by a priest or even in the presence of God? Aside from the state approval, could we just call it 'living in sin'? Is there degrees here?!

This post was much longer than I intended so I'll leave it there. I'll update after I talk to someone about that above mentioned grave sin.

Thanks for reading.