2nd Father's Day

Tomorrow will be our second Father's Day with no dad. For some reason this year is worse than last.
Last year it was so new and fresh, it was really awful. But this year, because it's been so much longer and we know that it is really permanent and that he's really not ever coming back - it's even worse.

I am grateful for the 26 years I did have with my dad. He really was a wonderful man and the best dad a person could ask for. As much as I will celebrate the dad that he was, tomorrow will be bittersweet because we miss him, we wish he was here and we would like to celebrate with him.

I am so thankful that my husband is so understanding and knows that I am not thrilled for this holiday. Of course I realize that he is a dad and needs recognition as well. We will celebrate him tomorrow but it will be a sad day as well.

As I was looking at all the of the Father's Day cards in the store today, I saw all of the cute cards for Grandpa's and it made me sad that I couldn't get one for him from my kids.
Then I saw the cards for Daddy's from their little girls and it made me sad that my little sister doesn't have him around. She decided to miss the parts of school where they made crafts for their dads. How awful for her. How unfair.
Then I saw the cards for dad's from grown up kids. The long poems about all the special things they did and how thankful the kids are for having a wonderful, loving dad. And that made me sad for myself.
Then I saw the funny cards and it made me smile as I remembered all of the funny cards that my brother and I would get for my dad. We always tried to outdo each other with the funny cards to make dad laugh. He really did have the best sense of humor.

So, like so many other times and holidays, I am sad. But I am grateful.

I am truly thankful that God decided to make my dad my dad. Even thought it was shorter than I think it should have been. I wouldn't change it.

when I get older...

This is my dad's mom, my Granny Lil (and my aunt). We celebrated her 90th birthday this past weekend. It was a very nice party, held at the Western Development Museum. Family came from all over the country and even one from the States.

Doesn't she look great? She said she gets a lot of comments about her skin and questions about what her secret is.

Her answer? Take vitamins, stay out of the sun and use Avon. Granny has been using Avon since 1942. And her skin looks amazing.

I've always been told I take after this side of my family. So hopefully I have inherited these good genes.

Seeing all of the men together was pretty interesting. Especially my dad's brothers. At times I would hear my dad's voice or see an expression that made me think I was looking at his face. It was a wonderful celebration for my Granny but it was also so hard to be there without my dad. He loved his family so much and it would have been so nice if him and my grandfather could have been there. (They and my cousin's daughter are the only ones in the immediate family that have passed away)

At one point my brother had to leave the room because he was choked up and it broke my heart. It's not fair. It is so not fair that there are men out there who don't care about their families and abuse them and are deadbeats and they get to go on with their lives while my dad had to die. The whole evening, all I could think was this is a nice time but it's just not fair. I know life isn't fair. I know all the "answers" people would say to me, he's happy in Heaven, it was God's timing, we can't question God. But it's still not fair. He would have had a fabulous time. Maybe God let him have a glimpse of the party...I think it would have made him smile.

Earlier that day we all went out to the graveyard and planted a tree at my dad's headstone. It was good for all of the family to see it and have that time out there. Maybe it made the party a bit easier, I don't know. Just to have had that grieving part of the day over with so we could all try to be happy at Granny's party. I'm sure it did make it better for most. Probably a bit harder for us though.

Overall it was a good weekend. I saw family I hadn't seen for fifteen years, they all got to see all the kids and it was just nice for us all to be together.

It is definitely nice to get together for something other than a funeral...maybe we should do it more often.

brick wall

Today my son randomly said something about Papa being dead and why was Papa dead, how did it happen and on and on.

I was in the other room and my husband was a bit shocked but managed to say something about Papa's body not working properly and he died and now he was in Heaven. I, of course got all choked up.

It never ends. When you think you are managing a bit better and that life is moving on a bit, just one question brings you back to the start.

I honestly was almost starting to feel like my old self again lately. I've been keeping busy and have felt happy and have been getting things done.

I guess this will come and go.

But today I am angry.

This is not fair.

I am too young to not have a dad. My kids need a grandpa close to them. My mom needs her husband. My sister needs her daddy. My husband needs a Godly man around. My brother needs him. We all need him. And he's gone.

My dear friend is getting married soon. She was like another daughter to him. He would have really enjoyed knowing she met a wonderful guy. Another dear friend just had a baby. Another had twins. Good friends of his just became grandparents. My dad would have been so happy to hear the news.

I know all the Biblical answers. God's timing and how our days are numbered from the start, and how this is in the Master Plan. But right now I am struggling to understand how anything good can possibly come out of this.

Life these days.

So much to write, so little time.

Life is busy busy. Babies have been born. (with at least 9 more on the way!) Weddings happening soon. Kids are keeping me on my toes. Trying to get our yard looking half decent. Trying to get our house in order after recently doing some renos (which still need to get finished). Getting rid of baby clothes and accessories feels rather good!

I am loving the nice weather. And missing my dad these days. He would be outside almost non-stop once the weather turned nice. He would be telling us what we should be doing in our yard and planning what to do next in theirs. He would already have his dark brown tan that he got every year. He would be building something fun for my son and all the other kids to play on. And he would be doing lots of BBQ ing :)

My GriefShare group will be done next week. I feel as though I've come a long way in the past four months. Of course the pain won't ever be gone. But managing it is better I guess.

This past year has been a huge test of faith for me. I think I've survived, a bit stronger than I thought I was. And maybe I'll be able to articulate my thoughts at some point. But for now, all I can say is that if I wasn't completely sure I needed Jesus in my life before I do now. I do not know how those who grieve can do it without the assurance that their loved ones are in Heaven. I could go on and on. But I am not one to push my faith in one's face.

I am still grieving. Will never stop grieving. But I mourn with Hope. And that is what keeps me going day after day.

Birth

A couple of weeks ago I went to the chiropractor. I thought my tailbone was broken from childbirth and so she asked about my birth experiences. (turns out my back pain is my SI joint stuck in place from both pregnancies - painful but getting better)

I told her that with my first I had a long labour and eventually had an epidural and IV drugs to speed up my labour. With my second baby, I had a pretty short labour and drug free delivery. She then said, "You sound disappointed that you had an epidural, why is that?"

At this point I got a bit choked up and explained what had happened with my first delivery.

I totally had not realized how emotional I was about my son's birth!

I was 23 years old. Had a birthplan that was pretty much disregarded. My water had broken, I had been in labour for 12 hours and was basically forced into having an epidural. (or so I feel - emotions run high when you're in labour) The only reason I was listened to at all was that my mom was with us and is a nurse.

I had made up my mind when I was pregnant not to be a martyr and to get drugs if I felt I needed them. However, this was not supported by the nurses that I had for my labour. They kept telling me that I should just get an epidural. They were not very supportive of alternative methods. I am so thankful that my husband and mom were there to speak for me. It would have been an even more negative experience had they not.

When I wasn't dilating fast enough, I was told that my labour could take another 12-24 hours and that getting IV drugs (sintocin) and an epidural would speed things up.

At this point, I was exhausted, discouraged and felt like I really couldn't do it any longer (with little encouragement to just keep going, I guess I gave up) I just wanted to see my baby. I was given the epidural and he was born a short time later. My doctor barely made it to his delivery.

As it happens, my son's heart rate dropped when I was pushing and they had to use the vacuum to try to get him out. He then turned a bit, tore me with his shoulder and I was able to push him out.

In the long run I am thankful that my son was healthy. That is the most important thing.

Maybe I would have decided to have the epidural on my own, and that's okay, but the fact that I felt pressured into it left me feeling sad and a bit powerless.

I still have resentful feelings towards the staff that was there when he was born and am a bit negative about his birth. My husband and I felt patronized a lot throughout our hospital stay and were thankful when we were able to come home and learn to look after our baby ourselves, our own way.

Thankfully I had a better experience with my daughter's birth (even with some awful staff again). I was able to deliver her with no drugs and feel like I recovered a lot more quickly.

I am not adamantly against drugs and interventions for childbirth. They have their place - when needed. I just feel like some doctors and nurses are too pushy and really need to take a step back and listen to the person who is giving birth. Women have been giving birth for thousands of years - our bodies know what to do. Yes it is painful but it doesn't last and at the end you have a beautiful baby to hold on to.

babyweight

My aunt sent me a link to this site:
http://theshapeofamother.com/

It inspired me to write this post.

I haven't lost my baby weight. I have stretchmarks lining my stomach and breasts. My stomach is not flat or smooth. My thighs jiggle a bit. My breasts are big and I will never fit the cute little bras I have sitting in the back of my closet again.

But the stretchmarks show where my babies grew inside me. Like a map of the world, they show where I felt little kicks, punches, rolls and hiccups. My breasts are full of milk to give my daughter the nutrients she needs. My arms may not be trim but they are strong enough to carry my children and a diaper bag and the phone all at the same time. My legs carry me quickly when I hear my child calling for me and can still run up the stairs when my son is scared by the monsters in the dark.

I may never fit into my wedding dress again. Or the clothes that I have sitting on the floor of my closet, beautiful clothes that make me sigh when I see them. I will not be twenty pounds lighter when I am a bridesmaid in May, like I tricked myself into thinking was more than doable, it was "healthy". I will NEVER wear a bikini, no matter how many ads tell me I can.

This is me.
If I lose some more weight, fine. I do not need to drive myself crazy to do so.
If not, my husband still loves me. I am healthy. I am alive.
I need to stop comparing myself to others and be happy that my body let me carry two beautiful, healthy, perfect babies.
Those that cannot get pregant would gladly take stretchmarks and saggy boobs if it meant they could carry a baby.
So I will rejoice in my body. The body that God gave me. I will eat healthy food and run around with my children but I will not obsess.

Psalm 139: 13-16

For you formed my inward parts;
you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works;
my soul knows it very well.
My frame was not hidden from you,when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed substance;in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them.

conversations

This morning my son and I had to have a conversation about how Papa won't have any more birthdays or birthday parties because he is dead and in Heaven. He kept asking, "Cause Papa's dead?" and I would have to say, "yes, Papa is dead."
Did we not tell him this crucial piece of information? I still choke up when I talk to him about his Papa. He's always been told his Papa is in Heaven now, and we've read books about Heaven and what it's like, but did we forget to mention that Papa died? Those days after my dad died are a blur, but I hope one of us sat down with my son and explained it to him. He was only two years old but toddlers are a lot smarter than we give them credit for.

We recently celebrated my brother's birthday and then shortly after that, had the little celebration of my dad's life. Soon we will celebrate my aunt's birthday.

I think all of this is confusing my son, thus all the questions about Papa's birthday.

I hope and pray that I am answering these questions correctly and won't further confuse my son.
Parenting is exhausting and I feel at a loss these days...