I’ll Take A Breath, I’ll Take Her By My Side We Stand In Awe, We’ve Created Life

With little E’s birthday yesterday and Z’s coming up next week, it’s really been hitting a chord I didn’t even know I had. I want another baby. My kids are growing up and soon I’ll have a 4 & 7-year-old in my house and I won’t even be able to pretend I have a toddler anymore. I’ll officially have two children. Kids who are growing up too fast for me and I don’t like it. I heard something years ago, after I left E, that bothered me. I can’t remember where I heard it, but I think it was some fairly reputable therapist, regarding step-parents. They said (paraphrased) that if a new partner enters a child’s life in a parenting role by the age of 6, then it’s easier for that kids to adjust to them as a parent, and accept them. But any later than that, and basically the parenting, in particular the discipline should be done mainly by the birth parent only.

That resonated with me, and has stayed in the back of my mind all these years. I wanted SOOO badly for little E to have a solid connection with a male role model in his life. He has nothing with E. Nothing. And just the thought that by now the opportunity for a meaningful bond to form between him and any potential ‘dad’ is heartbreaking. I know, I know, that thing I heard was just one mans opinion and there are plenty of scenarios that prove otherwise, but the thought still lingers.

I never wanted little E and Z to be fatherless. It was obviously never my plan. But life happens. Shit happens. And now I’m just so disappointed with the path my life is on in this regards. I feel like a failure to my kids in that I haven’t been able to provide them with the home environment that I always envisioned. The “perfect” family.  Or at least a family that looked half decent to outsiders looking in, since no-ones perfect.

You know, the typical mom, dad, son and daughter…. But now it’s just the three of us. With little E apparently at an age where he will have trouble connecting with a new father figure.

And yet I still want another baby. But by the looks of things, it could be years before that happens if it ever does, and do I really want that kind of age gap between my kids? Plus will I be able to carry another baby to term by then?

Maybe I’m being selfish, since I want the experience of being pregnant with a man who supports me during the pregnancy and just to see how it would be like to have him love the baby from the start. But is that fair to little E and Z, who have never experienced anything even remotely similar?

I’m from a blended family, with my little sister N being born after my mom got re-married, and R and I could 100% tell the difference in the way my step dad treated her in comparison to us, which is something I never want little E and Z to feel.

So now, I have this desire for a baby. To experience the joy I see couples have when they do it together. Something I’ve never had. I know I was married, but I’ve been single parenting it since day 1. E never once woke up at night to change a diaper or do a late night feed, or even to bring the baby to me so I could nurse them. He wasn’t there to help teach either one of them to walk or talk. He’s never driven the kids to school or daycare. He’s hardly ever attended a school function or play. He’s been pretty absent since the get go.

So, maybe I’m being selfish, but these last few months I’ve been really thinking about another child, and the feasibility of it all. I want it so badly I’m tearing up right now, but I know I can’t just go randomly and get pregnant “just because” I want it.

I won’t ever put another child through what little E and Z have gone through. A childhood without a father.

So until I find a man who’s in it for the long-LONG term, I’ll just have to shelf my desires and focus on the kids I already have.


-Creed/Arms Wide Open-

Happy Birthday To You Happy Birthday Dear Little E, Happy Birthday To You.

Today is little E’s 7th birthday. And I have so many things I’ve been wanting to post about, but decided to write about the day he was born. Because that’s a story of its own!

My pregnancy with little E went great. Absolutely no morning sickness, none of the uncomfortable sleeping at night, just a tiny bit of heartburn near the end which I’m pretty sure can be attributed to all the hair he was born with. I’m very lucky to have had such a good pregnancy because E was no support. Throughout the 9 months, he would often suggest that the baby was in fact not his, and that the night of my failed housewarming ( https://shewassetfree.wordpress.com/2017/04/12/house-warming-it-was-cold-as-fuck/) I had slept with S, and therefore who knows how many other men. As you can imagine this was difficult to deal with while pregnant, and I didn’t feel very supported, so it was nice to at least feel like the baby was working with me.

The only thing that really changed for me was that I craved steak like nobody’s business. I could eat steak for breakfast, lunch, dinner and still want more, until some blood work revealed that it was amazing I was still up and walking since my iron was SO depleted. Once I got on some iron supplements, the cravings slowed and then the only that bothered me was smell.

EVERYTHING stunk to me. Especially E. He would get home from work, I’d have to ask him to shower. He’d come home from rugby practice, where he just showered, and I’d make him do it again. Before we left anywhere, I’d ask him to reapply deodorant, or shower. I know he didn’t actually stink more than before, but to me? Oh god the smell was awful. At one point we went to my parents for supper and I actually apologized to my mom for how E smelled and she’s like ‘honey, he doesn’t smell, it’s your nose/hormones’ … didn’t matter to me, I still needed him to shower 3x a day if not more.

So, anyways as we neared, and then passed little E’s due date, I found myself doing all the preparations for the baby. E didn’t put together one baby item. He didn’t purchase one particle of clothing for our first child. He was barely interested in conversations about the name even. Except of course to throw in the lies about the middle name and confuse the shit outta everything. But as far as first names go, it was basically up to me, which I’m so grateful for! At least now I don’t have to say my kids names every day and have regrets about them. I picked them both out and love them throughly.

Since apparently my womb is so comfortable, little E stayed 10 days past his due date and I had an appointment to be induced. E decided he didn’t want to come with me, so I drove myself to the hospital. He basically said let him know how it goes and if anything happens, he would come later.

So I was on my own. 22 years old. About to give birth to my first child. And my husband chose work over supporting me.

I went through the process and stayed for about an hour when the nurse came to check me out and said there was no signs of labor so I could head home for now, but to come back if anything changes. So I headed home. I had some slight back pain but, since this was my first time, I kept waiting for ‘contractions’ and yet had no idea what they would feel like. My back pain kept getting worse and I had no way of relieving it, so I took a shower. E was home from work by the time I got out of the shower but I was in so much pain all I could do was sit on my towel on my bed. This ended up being probably the best thing for me, since while I was still on the towel, my water broke and I finally clued in that my back pain was actually contractions. #idiot
I told E we had to go now, and his response was that I had to wait since he needed to eat since he just got him from work and was hungry. So while E did whatever he did in the kitchen, I got myself dressed and hauled my hospital bag out to the car, all while in labor.
E finally moseyed his way to the car and we went to the hospital where I was admitted ASAP.

My mom met us at the hospital since at this point I knew E was going to be probably not too much help and to be honest I was scared and needed someone to be there as a support. Most women have their husbands for support, but well, I had E soooo, mom was like my plus one.

My mom came into the room and then E left! I was like what the? And he told us that he didn’t think he was going to stay in the room because where he’s from the men don’t stay, it’s more of a woman’s thing. I was like get your ass in this room right now! You got me into this! You are going to help me through it! I don’t care if you just stand there silently or even faint! You stay!
So he did, although he just stood there quietly, he stayed in the room.

Meanwhile, because everything was happening so quickly, my room was buzzing with people. My maid of honor at my wedding is actually a labour and delivery nurse and was working that night, which was the only thing keeping me sane. She tried to make sure I had the best Dr. and nurses and when the actual delivery came she was right there helping out too.

I didn’t have a big ‘delivery plan’. I knew I was all for the drugs though, I mean if I can do this pain-free, then load me up. So they started with the laughing gas (which did nothing to help) while my MOH tracked down an anesthesiologist. The anesthesiologist came and did his poke, but for some reason, the epidural didn’t work either, and this baby was coming NOW.

I remember the Dr doing that dumb counting thing, like for your breathing, and everyone’s saying oh you’re doing great, good job, keep going, and I just snapped. I actually yelled ‘SHUT UP’ at everyone. In my mind I just wanted quite so I could focus on my own in peace, plus their words were doing nothing to help so I just wanted silence. After I yelled though I felt bad so I kept apologizing, and trying to explain how I just needed quite, and everyone’s like no it’s ok, you can yell all you want.

So, the pushing is going on and there’s so much happening in my room with me and E and my mom and about 6-8 staff (I don’t even know for sure) because something is going wrong…. as I’m pushing, the baby gets stuck. So my MOH gets a stool and stands on it, holds her arms out like she’s about to perform CPR and then literally JUMPS and pushes onto my belly and helps push little E out. Who let me tell you, WAS NOT LITTLE!

Little E was 9lbs 7ozs and a short little sucker. He looked like a sumo wrestler no lie. A cute sumo wrestler. The Dr who delivered him felt the need to comment saying ‘Oh if I had known he was this big, I would’ve done a C-section’. Oh thank you for that. Thanks for saying that NOW! When there’s no going back. Thanks for talking about the huge new life I just pushed through my vagina while you use a dozen stitches to close me up. Yeah, thanks. Real professional.

But, aside from having my genitalia ripped open, the drugs not working, and E not being interested at all in being there…

It was the most beautiful day of my life. No I didn’t cry. But I was very broken at the time. I did cherish it though. I remember little E had no problem starting to nurse and the feeling of having a new life, a human, so small yet fully functioning, look into your eyes while feeding off of the life you bring it? Priceless.

I stayed up all night just watching him. Making sure he was ok. Changing diapers that didn’t need to be changed, but just to do it.. Waking up E so he could bring me the baby. Holding him. Touching him. Stroking his hair. Looking into his eyes. Singing to him. Just loving him. And I would do it all again.
Everything I’ve been through with E, I would do again just to have the amazing experience of little E’s life it has brought me.

7 years ago today.


-Patty Hill&Mildred Hill/Happy Birthday-

Take Me To Church I’ll Worship Like A Dog At The Shrine Of Your Lies

So after K got sent back, I had a little falling out with my mother. I was emotional and needed someone to talk to and you’d think by now I’d have learned that that person should never be my judgemental mom but deep down inside I still want to have a open and good relationship with her. So I try and take steps towards that… steps that include telling her some aspects of my life others may keep to themselves. On one hand it’s a fine line because my mother asks too many personal questions as it is and gets to involved anyways, so I have to make sure she understands that I’m a grown woman and some parts of my life are none of her business, while on the other hand, I do want her advice on certain things, since yes she has a few years on me and experience is always a welcome point of view. But the thing with my mom is, she gets terribly offended if you don’t share every detail with her and if you don’t DO everything how she would’ve done it, or how she advised you too… which therefore leads me to just not share those parts of my life with her in the first place. Kinda like a What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her type thing. 

Don’t get it twisted, she knows I get high like every night and thinks it’s a great and natural way to handle my epilepsy. She knows about my past with men and… well she thinks it’s in the past, because I just don’t feel the need to discuss every sexual partner I’ve had with my mother. She knows about the rape and the issues with E. Like she knows pretty much everything, but that doesn’t make it easier to deal with her. 

So when K was sent back, and I really needed someone to talk to, I will never for the life of me figure out why I felt like calling up my mom instead of any one of my girlfriends who knew about K already. Or one of my coworkers who saw flowers get delivered from him on my birthday. Or my sister N who met him when we walked over to her place one night. Or anyone else on the planet apart from my MOTHER. But no. Somewhere deep inside caused me to call my mom. Because I was missing a guy. 

I can’t remember how the conversation went, because it didn’t go well. I was just looking for someone to tell me it would be ok, and basically my mom was not in a position to do that. She was mad at me because I hadn’t told her about K sooner. I tried explaining that K and I weren’t together/dating whatever, and so there was nothing to say. I don’t feel the need to run every friend past my parents for approval. It’s not like I was keeping secrets. Then she pulled the whole ‘You’re still married’ card out on me. Yes, officially, I am still married. Since my divorce has taken over 3 years, and is still not finalized then, yes I am still married. So your right. I guess I am formally a ‘heathen’ for that. Which lead her to asking why do I even go to church still. So I thought about how I would tell her in the simplest way, without hurting her feelings too much. I don’t really believe in God. That’s not true. Well it is but..  Ah, I believe there’s a being out there. A fantastic divine being that has somehow orchestrated this world. But I don’t believe it’s the god that’s discussed and portrayed in the bible at most churches. So, yes. Until that call with my mom I attended church and it was fine. But mostly it was to instill certain values and morals into my children from a young age that are taught at the church. Like the fruits of the spirit, patience, self control, joy etc. Also, then my kids could see my parents once a week. 

Well let me tell you, that went over like a led balloon, and my mother was like ‘don’t bother coming if that’s why’ I know very Christian of her… but needless to say, the last two Sundays the kids and I have chilled at home because of this and it’s been very nice. Then this morning my Dad texted to see if we were going to church. I said no, so he asked if he could take the kids. Sure why not I figured. Even though I know my mom probably put him up to it, my dad is just trying to stay out of the drama and be neutral. He’s the least likely person I know to start an argument, mainly because that would cut into his TV time and heaven forbid that ever happens! But anyways, he showed up this morning with a coffee for me and picked up the kids and said he would drop them off after lunch. He made no comments about how I should be going to church or anything about K. He just lets grown people live their lives. Something my mom is having issues with. 

My mom thinks I should only date one man who I plan on marrying, and only once my divorce is done. I’m like how will I know I want to marry them until I try dating them? Oh she also thinks that I should have to introduce him to my parents within like the first week of meeting him, but that my kids shouldn’t meet him until we’re practically married. Yes I’m almost 30 but she feels the need to intrude on my sex/relationship life with her ‘advice’. She was so offended by my secret keeping because apparently she thought this whole time I’ve been living on my own, I was… I dunno celibate or something? And I guess her finding out I’d been hanging out with someone for almost a year messed with her. Why it affects her life so much I’ll never get. 

I could understand if she was offended that I didn’t tell her I had a boyfriend, or was officially dating someone, but I wasn’t. I was messing around with K and a bunch of other guys. And I didn’t think she needed to know every time I took my pants off. But it’s just like the last little while before K went back things changed between us… things were said… feeling became… deeper for a lack of a better word, and that’s why I was so emotional about it, and needed someone to talk it out with. 

99% my fault for choosing my mom and disturbing the balance of our relationship. 1% her fault for assuming I would tell her all those personal details that she doesn’t need to know about anyone besides her and my dad. 

Either way, I have an unexpected kid free morning, and I’m liking it!

-Hozier/Take Me To Church-

I Can’t Remember Anything, Can’t Tell If This Is True Or Dream

When I was 16, I woke up one morning at the hospital. The rush of cold air when the ambulances’ back door opened made me “come to” and I remember sitting up on the gurney and needing to throw up. The paramedic gave me some sort of tray and the whole arrival emergency crew at the hospital had a front row view of my vomit. I didn’t care. I didn’t care that I was in my pyjamas with no bra or underwear. I didn’t care that my makeup from the day before was most likely smudged all over my face, with the worst bed head possible. I didn’t know at the time, but if I had realized, I wouldn’t have cared that I had wet myself. All I knew, was that I had an INCREDIBLE headache, every muscle in my body hurt, even ones I didn’t know I had at the time were sore, and that I was exhausted. I just wanted to sleep. Forever if possible.

There was a huge bustle around me and multiple doctors kept coming and going from my room. I’m sure lots of tests and procedures were preformed, but I hardly remember any of them. At this point I still didn’t even know what happened to me, I was just trying to sleep.

My mom was at the hospital with me and I was discharged the same day I came in. We drove home and I slept straight through until the next day, when I finally felt a little more like myself. That’s when my family explained what had happened to me, at least as best as they could since the doctors had sent us home with little answers.

N had woken up to get ready for school and since I had my Biology diploma that day, she knew I wouldn’t be up at the same time. While she was brushing her teeth, she heard some strange noises coming from my room, and came to check. That’s when my 12 year old sister walked in on me having my first (that I know of) Grand Mal seizure. She freaked out (rightfully so) and ran to get my mom who was still asleep. Once my mom came down and saw me, she had an idea of what to do, since she has some experience working with special needs children who would often seize. She turned me on my side (so I didn’t swallow my tongue, which wasn’t as issue since it was clamped firmly between my teeth) and 911 was called.

Apparently the firefighters were the first to arrive a couple minutes later and according to my mother (who I assume is exaggerating) it took 5, VERY hot firefighters to hold me somewhat still and inject an anticonvulsants to try to control the seizure, which at this point had been going on for at least 15 minutes, plus however long before N heard me. Once the “very hot” firefighters got the seizure under control, the ambulance arrived and I was taken to the hospital.

My only memory of this whole thing? Going to sleep after reviewing for my diploma, and then puking when we arrived at the hospital. Followed by two days of a liquid diet because I had chewed up my tongue so badly, and a week of such stiff muscles. I felt like I was gonna be buff just from that one seizure lol.

Then my life consisted of doctor after doctor after doctor. Test after test. Years of this, each one saying the same thing… We don’t know what caused your seizures, we can only attempt to control them. In the meantime, I’m continuing to seize, while the doctors try this medication and that medication. But of course there’s different side effects to each one. Sure, this one was depression, this one was something else, then, as my luck would have it, the medication that works the best? Weight gain. Story of my life hey lol. Weight gain as well as trouble perspiring. What even? Something about the sweat glands being affected, I dunno I wasn’t paying attention all the time. Either way, now we’ve found a pill that will slow down the seizures, at the cost of my weight. Which I learned to be ok with, because hey, seizures kill and I’m lucky to be alive right. Besides, I can always work out and keep the weight off.

Wrong. Working out was ridiculous. I could hardly do anything I used to because I would overheat in 2 minutes. My body doesn’t sweat because of the medication now so I can’t cool down and every time I tried working out, I almost passed out instead. So, like I said, I’ve learned to be ok with my weight, because the alternative could be my life.

My mom tried so many other things to try to “cure” my epilepsy. I’ve done the chiropractor, acupuncture, some colonoscopy (no idea how that was supposed to help but my mom was trying) a naturopath, both in my city and the next one over in case he was better. We started going on a road trip once a month to the naturopath and my parents spent so much time and money on trying to solve my “medical mystery” but the biggest investment came when my mom found a specialist in the states she wanted me to try.

At this point I’m almost 20, living on my own, and my mom is still trying to make this go away. She found some clinic in Wisconsin or something like that, that had a new trial they were doing, and she thought it had potential. So she asked if I would fly to Chicago with her to try it out. I figured that, at this point, I would give it a shot, but I told my mom it would be the last experiment I would try in regards to my epilepsy. I had it reasonably under control with my meds and didn’t want it to consume my life by way of always trying to fix it. The meds for me, were solution enough, and I’d learned to live with it at this point.

My mom thought that was a fair deal, and booked our mom/daughter trip to Chicago.

Oh the Windy City. We were literally only there for 3 days. Most of which were spent in Milwaukee or something close by. But after all the test were done at the hospital, we did manage to go to the Blue Man group and the Chicago Art Institute (remember this trip was planned by my mom) . Which I’ll always remember, because I saw some real life paintings that I had been studying in University and I felt real posh being able to recognize them 😂. But, the end result of our trip, were just the memories. Because the doctors there, just like in Canada, were unable to figure out my issue.

Maybe my mind is just too advanced for modern technology lol. Or maybe I’m just built wrong. Either way, I never ended up having to write my Biology diploma, so that’s one good thing I can take from all this!Although, I’m pretty sure I would’ve aced it.

Since then I’ve done more research and studies on my own. Trying to figure out my own solution to a problem I’ve had for over a dozen years.

I’m sure you will all have your own opinions on this and I expect nothing less, but I’m going to share anyways.

I’ve been fairly interested in the whole field of medical marijuana for about 2-3 years now. I had never tried smoking/eating/vaping weed/shatter/oil in any form before, because I never felt any need. I could easily turn it down at any event. Same reason that I don’t drink much. I just don’t feel the desire to. But after reading through many studies about the benefits (and some about the harm) of marijuana for medical purposes, especially for people with epilepsy, I decided to try it out.

Looking back, I probably should’ve gone through a doctor first hand, instead of how I did it. But the end result would have been the same. I asked a friend that I knew smoked fairly often if I could have some from them. Mainly because I wasn’t sure how to bring it up in casual conversation with an actual doctor. The friend was shocked I’d never done it before and took the time to explain a few of the basic details to me, before handing some over.

I did the responsible thing and waited until my kids were at my parents for the night, and then carefully followed the ‘instructions’ I had received, and for the first time in a dozen years, I went to bed without a headache, and woke up actually feeling refreshed.

It’s hard to explain when I’d been living so long with a headache that was about a 6/10, it had become my new normal. I had no longer realized that I ALWAYS had a headache, until that night after smoking my first joint ever and the headache went away, that it was possible to live a better standard of life. That I didn’t have to suffer EVERY DAY any more.

It was an eye opener for sure.

I didn’t take part again right away, and slowly my headache returned, so one night I finished the joint I had been given and again woke up feeling amazing. Then I knew that there was definitely something to this marijuana as far as medical purposes.

Since this literal life changing discovery of mine (for me at least) I’ve made some adjustments to how I “medicate.”  I’ve been working with Dr. K to get an actual prescription for myself, as well as moved more exclusively towards edibles to avoid the harm (and smell) that smoking it can cause.

But man, just knowing that I have not had a single headache (or seizure) since starting, is actually unbelievable for myself. I’m smiling as I write at the relief of it all.


-Metallica/One-