The story of my birth...

Keegan turning 5 has been SO emotional for me.  I know with 5 comes a whole new chapter in his life, and as much as I want to let him storm ahead into those new experiences... part of me just wants to hold him a little longer.

Just as I'm sure my Mom always wanted to do with me.

I can look back now and see those moments that she was trying to hold on... that I was trying to get her to let go...

Part (most) of me just wants to let her hold me a little longer....

But what is done... or not done... is done.. or NOT done.

Now about this birth of mine...

I've given birth to three adorable babies... I can rattle off their time of birth... birth weight... length... what the labor was like... who was there... what I was thinking... which way the room was facing...

all.of.it.

Every year on their birthday, I write the kids a letter for their baby books, and I can sit there and think of the day like it was yesterday.

I'm sure Mom could too.  But she never wrote me a letter.

What do I know?

I know that when Mom had Karri, her water broke (while she was sitting crossed legged on the floor) 10 days before she was born, 3 months before she was due... they sent her home and put 2 x 4s under her bed.  I know that after Karri was born, Mom didn't get to hold her until she was 3 months old, could only pass a finger through the hole to touch her.

I know that Lindsey was born in a blizzard.  Had the hospital been much further away, she would have been born IN the car.  When they got to the hospital, they didn't want to let Dad into the delivery room, and when he finally "convinced" them to let him in... they put him in a room with a woman whose feet he didn't recognize.

But what about me? 

What I knew about my own "blessed event" was pretty scarce.  I knew that when she found out she was pregnant, my mother (the wife of a cattle farmer) had her due date predicted by my father, by pulling out his chart for cattle breeding. April 8th.  I knew that she never weighed more than 135 pounds the entire time she was pregnant with any of us... but that was about it.

So last night, on the eve of Keegan's 5th birthday, I called my Dad to find out what he knew.

He can tell me how much he paid for lunch at a hotel in 1978, so I had a little hope, and he was able to give me a least a little of the story.

I wonder if he knew that I was crying when he was telling me.

They went to the hospital about 8 pm on the 7th.  Dad claims that I was the first baby born at Dukes to let the dad be in there.  When midnight came around and I hadn't been born yet... Mom was pissed.... though I think that might have more to do with knowing that Dad and his cow chart were going to be right...I was born just after midnight.  On the birth certificate they had started to write Wednesday and just crossed it out and wrote Thursday.  She got the chills really bad and chilled all night... I bet it was because I wasn't snuggling with her any more.

They named me Sara because (according to mom) it was on a western on tv and was easy to spell, not because it was on the bathroom wall (according to dad).

Is it everything?  No.  I'm sure she could have told me much more.

I wish she could still write me that letter.

Missed Milestones

Keegers is turning 5 in just ten days.

FIVE!

This week, he is finishing up pre-school and will have a picnic to close that chapter of his little life.  We had his Kindergarten registration last month (of which he scored verrrrrrry well)  and will be ready for school in the fall. 

Did I mention he is turning FIVE?

He is an AMAZING little boy.  He's (way too) smart, and funny, and sneaky, and sweet, and so many other things...

And Grandma would adore him even more today than she did before.

Sutton is coming into his own SO much!  He was able to play soccer this spring and he did so great having something that was his, not Keegan's.  He's going to preschool in the fall, and I can't wait to see him really blossom at Mary Lou's now that Keegan won't be there to boss him around.

Little Courty Foo Foo is happy, and healthy, and so good natured.  She's trying to crawl, and this weekend sat up on her own!  I just love seeing her little toothless grin... and know that it won't be long before a tooth is popping in there!

Every time they hit one of these mile stones, my heart breaks.

My mom is missing them all... and they are missing having her here to get ridiculously excited over them.

Yes.  I know.  She sees it.  Heaven... all that..... I get it. 

But it is NOT the same.

And it is NOT fair.



 

The Caregiver

I wrote this post awhile ago when sickness was running rampant at our house, and just never published it.  It was whiney(er) and (more) self absorbed than usual...but I suppose the purpose of this whole "project" is for me to document that, so here it is.  (luckily, everyone is now healthy and back to "normal")

Our pretty little happy girl has been sick.  She has not been her self by any stretch of the imagination.  Last night... she cried for a solid 5 hours.

a SOLID 5 hours.

It was a very long day... that followed some very long nights.
Last night... I sat there holding her and just cried along with her.  I was SO frustrated because I couldn't seem to do anything to make things better.

I hate that feeling.

 Sick babies make me miss my mom.

 I know that at any point over the last 5 days I could have called her to whine and she would have listened to every single word of it.  I wanted to be able to do that.

 In the 5 1/2 years I've worked here... I've taken 3 maternity leaves.  That pretty much zapped my sick bank. 

sigh.

 I miss my Mom.

Her Birthday... and other ramblings from my mind

Mom's birthday rolled around again. 

It should have been her 65th. 

On that day, most of you saw my Facebook status where I said something along the lines of

"I don't miss my Mom any more today just because it's her birthday.  I won't miss her any less tomorrow because it is not.  I miss her EVERY day because she was amazing."

I don't foresee there ever being a time that that statement ISN'T true.

There are definitely days when her presence... or lack there of... is noticed more.

Lately, it's been a lot.

James was needing to do some property tax things because of his veteran status.  Even though we are in another city, county, state... I knew I could call her and ask her what he needed to do.

I was driving to see Lindsey and it hit me in the car.

"I'll call Mom!  She will know!"

Oh.  I can't.

But I WANT to call Mom... because she would know.

but.I.can't.

but.I.WANT.to.....

Potty training...swim lessons... babies thriving... rolling over... ALL reasons why I wish I could call her and talk...

If wishes were horses....

Dad got her headstone set in place.  He has been a bit obsessed with it. He wanted to talk about it... he wanted to show it to me...

I.don't.care.

I don't need physical reminders that she is gone.  I can't foresee EVER needing physical reminders that she is gone. 

I'll see the headstone eventually.  One time.  Because Dad can't live forever.

Please Hold Baby B a little longer

I know that she held Courtlynn before she sent her to us.

And I know that she held Baby DMB when he was first born in those days after she died.

Now, I'm praying that God allows Grandma Cindy to hold little Baby B just a little longer... so that he or she can get just as strong as possible... before coming to join the family.

This baby is grandbaby number #10...

And we all know that on a scale of 1-10... 10 is perfect!  So hoping that God allows this baby all the time he or she needs to be as perfect as he has planned!

Mom Approved

I've talked before about my discouragement with the lack of "Go Red" support.  It's normal to see NFL or MLB players wearing pink for support of Breast Cancer Awareness... but do they ever wear Red for Heart Disease Awareness?

But I'm beating a dead horse here (and for the record... HE probably died of a heart attack too)

So when the latest "Shoot for the Cure" pink t shirts came out, I bought one.... but I got mad at the same time.

But instead of just staying mad... I decided to do a little something about it.

I decided to design and sell my own shirt.  And I did.

Even though our school colors are orange and black... SEVERAL fellow teachers supported the American Heart Association by buying a shirt that on the front said "Panthers have Heart" and on the back gave some statistics about how often heart attacks occur.

Success!

Along with those that were ordered by my awesome co-workers, were the ones that I ordered for my sisters and a few friends.  When they found out about the shirts... even though they aren't "panthers" they wanted to support and ordered a shirt (or two) too!

Last night, I printed off labels and was in the process of packaging those shirts up.  As I was standing there working on them, I was hit by the OVERWHELMING scent of my mom's perfume.

It hit me (appropriately) like an arrow in my heart.

I frantically searched in my bag to find out what it was that smelled like her.

Nothing.

I tried to get James to smell stuff.... but he didn't know what he was trying to smell.

And then it hit me. Again.  Like an arrow to my heart.

It wasn't something I was smelling.... but someONE.

So I stood there and cried because I knew what it was.

My mom was there.... watching what I was doing, knowing what I was doing it for, WHO I was doing it for....

And she approved.  And she wanted us to know that.

So for those of you who get the shirts.  Take a little whiff.... because if you are lucky, you might be able to smell her... and know that she thanks you for thinking of her when you wear it.

5 Words

I had to call my mom's cell phone last night.  It's been an emotional week and it had been too long since I had heard her silly outgoing message.

We were never the video taping kind of family, so my options are very limited.  I can't just pull out a video to hear her "silent laugh." I will never have a video of her goofy smile when she tried to pull one over on us....

I don't have any voicemails saved.  I didn't think I would need to. 

I have five words.

No "talk to you later Babe." 
No "I love you so muchy"
No "Oh Hell's Bells Sara Bellum"
No "Can't wait to see you!"
No "Give those babies my love"

I have five words.

"Hi. This is Cindy Murphy"

It will have to do.