The Ties that Bind

No matter what happens in life between to people, when they share a child there is an enduring tie that binds. You may not agree in principle with them or see life though the same eyes, but you decide to bridge the divide and in doing so you give peace to the one created together; you love more than each other and more than yourself.

I am writing today from Jackson. Evan is sleeping soundly and lunch is ready for his Daddy. Laundry is going and bottles are freshly filled. There is a man here in a great deal of pain - a man I love as my own family - a man who I made a family with.

Although we are moving forward simply as friends, I cherish this relationship and I will nurture it as I do all those who matter to me. Greg's mothers cancer has returned and we do not know the amount of time she has left. Evan's Nanny has fought breast cancer into remission last July, only to have it return to her now. I ask for your prayers for the family, and for Rose G. she is the kindest person with a heart of gold and humility like you have never known. She is the center of Greg's family, as a mother should be, and she is my sweet Evan's paternal Grandmother. I want her to spend as much time with him as she has left and I want to bring some measure of comfort to Greg during this time in whatever way I can.

It has been a long year for us - both of us. We wondered why our son came to us. Why now? Was that the sole reason for our meeting? I can tell you now that I believe that Evan was sent as a healing balm and a source of abiding love for Greg and the timing of his birth and Greg's love for him is a testament to the ties we share - and they are the ties that bind and will help see us through the next chapter.

Love,
Ladybug

Life 101

I have a new direction and it is both scary and exciting.  I have a job interview on Friday with a great company which will pay me in my range and allow me to secure a good future for Evan and myself. I found a slot for him at a great school here and although I am not ready to leave him, I must. It is time to stand and do it, time to forge ahead and make life the best I can.

I looked in the mirror yesterday and actually recognized myself. I was able to put on a pair of my pre-pregnancy jeans and move the maternity clothes out.

The last three weeks while I was away, I discovered some things, some truths that needed to come to light and they did with a vengeance and left me feeling pretty alone and worthless and ugly and sad. I am not Barbie, nor will I ever be. I used to joke that I am more the Skipper type - but when you find out that Barbie played with Ken and you were pregnant Skipper on the sidelines, you can't help but feel like you are ugly and worthless and unattractive.

But then I came home. I came back to what is mine - who I am , what I stand for, what I worked for. I came home to me and realized that I am a wonderful woman, I am beautiful and worthy and I gave myself a little room to shine again. I felt my smile and my bounce, I felt my worth and the power of who I am as a woman. I had a new start after difficult tests to take and I won't look back on leftovers and lies. Mind you I don't hate or hold a grudge. I let that all go on Easter Sunday. But I won't be putting myself back in the arena to which I never belonged. When you know better you certainly ought to do better.

So today I am doing better. I love who I am and I am happy. I have a beautiful

home, the promise of Spring, a job prospect and to top it all off -the most gorgeous son in the WORLD.  So take that BARBIE...and you can take KEN too while your at it.

I always liked Skipper better anyway...

xoxo,
Bug

Two Months

It is so hard to believe that it has been nearly two months since we met face to face. This Friday will mark the date, March 28th. So much has changed, you are growing daily and smiling and cooing and you recognize my voice and you turn to see me when I walk into the room. You have beautiful folds of fat around your long legs and cornflower blue eyes. I hope they stay that way. Your great PawPaw (Nana's Father William) had the most beautiful blue eyes and your Nanny on your Daddy's side said the eyes might carry the "Wallace Blue"....you have your dad's long, jet-black eyelashes and his long fingers and your nose seems to be a cross between his masculine and my button - so perfect for your face.

You have a hard time falling asleep now. You are so worried you might miss something in the world that you kick your legs and swing your arms in an effort to keep the Sandman at bay. I end up swaddling you just so you can rest a while. You love your fingers and they have found their way into your mouth while you move your head from side to side in an attempt to capture one and then the other, back and forth. You snort when you cry and it makes me laugh out loud. You have learned a sad face and when you are pouting you stick out your bottom lip and crinkle your forehead. It is a classic Mommy face for sure.

So much I see in you, just a mere two months after we met, that I long for a lifetime of witnessing each day and the changes that will come. I love you Evan. You are such a joy.

xoxo,
Mommy

Not Enough

Sometimes love in and of itself is not enough. It cannot bridge the chasm alone no matter how hard we try. It is heartbreaking to feel for another and know that the feeling is not returned. Days are survived with a longing in ones soul that nothing can quell except time.

I have lived this last year alone and at many times lonesome. I have loved someone who cannot return the feeling. It matters not that we made a child together or that we have fought the hardest battles against each other. In the end it boils down to a simple truth that must be faced. One loved, the other did not. It is empty and sad and the hardest thing to wake up to each day.

I tried so many times in vain to climb the wall, to tear it down, to beat my fists against it. I have felt betrayal and hurt, I have torn at myself over and over and I am weary now and simply exhausted from trying. I have to digest the truth and it is bitter, it steals joy from my miracles and casts a shadow on even the sunniest of days.

This is my life as it is now. There is no future to look toward on the West horizon so I will turn and face East, towards the sunrise instead of the sunset. I am going to try to work past this heartbreak and find my joy again - beginning today.

I had a call from my recruiter for a position here in Atlanta. The call came after I spent the morning praying about letting go and about God's will for me and my son in this next chapter. I asked God to forgive me for letting my pain overshadow the joy of the gift he gave me in my son and I quietly whispered to Evan that I love him and that I will do better to only feel the joy of his existence as the guiding light in my life.

I am no longer pregnant, I can no longer be overlooked in life or allow myself to climb or rail or try to tear down walls. I have a path in front of me, a path to my future. It is time to lay the foundation, it is time to live again...and I will.

Goodbye yesterday, goodbye hope in what is not meant to be, goodbye to you from my heart; may you find what you seek - may it be all that you dream in your head of love. I can wish no better for you. I can give no more to you.

I am turning Eastward now, no looking back.

Long Enough

It has been long enough, there has been too much discussion, too much dissection, too much hope in the wrong direction. You and I have both made choices on what is important, on feelings that matter the most, who is priority, who is a friend. We will stand on those conclusions and we both will feel the impact of those decisions. Bitter pills for sure, but at least medicine is swallowed.

I hate that this is our conclusion, but at least we have found one. I will try to be your friend in the most respectful way I can, still considering my feelings and what I need to do to thrive and be happy and make a clear path for the most important relationship for us, our Son. In other life matters, I won't be that person for you. You have plenty of others to call, others who's feelings have mattered more than the request I made from you.  I must respect your choice of what we are to be and begin to walk that line, which is farther removed than multiple daily phone calls permit.

Things which were once shared will now become private matters, things that friends don't discuss with each other. It has been a long time coming, and the conclusion was heard loud and clear yesterday. I feel for us both, I feel for you the most because of what you are going through. I do care very much, I care, I care, please know that.

I won't call you on a daily basis to talk about life and Koi, and flowers and recipes and stories of life or feelings or to listen to music or songs shared over the phone. I really gave it time and nurtured it though the most trying time of my life. In the end it was not enough and you can't help the way you feel. As a result I can't help the way I react to that request. It will feel different around me now and for that I am sorry. I can't help the way I feel either.

The rest is for our son and we will survive and love and give all things for him.

Be well NBG and goodbye from my heart to yours.

Ladybug

Each Day

It is 9AM and I feel like it is 3AM. My eyes are rimmed with dark circles and I feel so tired that I could sleep while writing this. I only have a few moments as your hands are moving in your crib. It is a 50/50 shot that you will put yourself to sleep, or become bored and cry for me to make an appearance at your crib to talk to you. When you hear my voice you kick your legs and start to cry; a signal that you want me to hold you again. I never refuse you because the touch of your skin against my neck is too alluring. I will move to the rocker if you cry and sit with you. An hour will pass in silence with me staring at your beautiful face. Time flies.

The kitchen is a mess, I have not eaten since lunch yesterday which came at 3PM. Bed time came and went with your needs. You have discovered your hands and put them in your mouth. When I give you your bottle you no longer hold your hands in little fists, choosing instead to spread your fingers long and wide and stroke my hands, enjoying the sensation of touch. They are soft and supple and squishy. This morning at 6AM I was thinking they were like tiny softshell crabs that run along the shoreline at the ocean. I don't know why I associate things in such an odd fashion.

I wonder as I write this and you are beginning to crow a little if I will get a chance to shower today. It is a toss-up how I spend those hours. Sometimes it is only 30 minutes before you stir again, sometimes an hour. I debate between sleep and washing bottles, sleep and showering. I look at my cuticles, rough and jagged at the end of brittle nails and dry hands. Bottle washing has taken it's toll on the once perfectly manicured digits. Pearls are still fastened to my earlobes in stark contrast to messy hair. A bit of old-life indulgence on new life leftovers.

This is my morning. Tired, and worn. You are crying and I am going to pick you up and start that beautiful hour of silence spent holding you. Nothing else matters - life is wonderful because of you.

xoxo,
Mommy

Motherhood

I love being a mother. I have never been more tired or looked worse in my life than I do on a daily basis now. Sleep comes in spurts and a good night of rest is a 4 hour stretch. My son is the light of my life and the purpose of all things I do now.

The past is behind me now and the future is unknown, but promising for us. I read back on Evan's blog Saturday, back to the journey, the moments of wonder in my pregnancy, the times when I wondered "how" "who" and "what" would he be.  I can tell you that he surpasses my biggest dream and fills my heart with a love like I have never known.

The rest of life will sort itself out - the work, where to live, ties that bind and love, and I will wake up tired each morning, looking worn and weary, and smile at my son, who in return now smiles back at me.

Happy 7 weeks Evan, I love you Frogman.

xoxo,
Ladybug

Forgiveness

Forgiveness is a process that I wish were easier to execute. It is like climbing a mountain or stairs to the top of a monument. Sometimes in the climb towards reaching the summit where blue skies are visible again, we lose our footing and slip backwards a few steps or have to stop to get our breath again before we can move forward. In the end, we want to reach the goal, the top, the pinnacle where all is behind us. It can be a long process and one that requires us to not take a moment to look back at the ground beneath us, lest we stumble farther back on our descent.

I am working on this climb myself this year. I am working on climbing the mountain of forgiveness and putting the past behind me. I know it will be a long climb, but I believe the view at the top, the clear skies past the cloud layer I am going through will be worth it. I do this not only for myself, but for my son. You see for me, at the top of the climb towards forgiveness is my future, and I want my future to be a cloudless blue sky and a view towards a beautiful horizon.

xoxo,
Ladybug

Adjusting

I many ways I am adjusting to new. I have never had a love relationship with "new" and climbing the mountain again is a difficult process.

I don't recognize myself at this time in my life. My eyes are rimmed from nearly a year of tears and coping, my skin is desensitized from lack of touch, my body is changed from becoming a mother. I long to see myself again when I look in the mirror.

In the midst of great loss, I have experienced the greatest gift of my life and I am grateful for him, the one who was chosen for me, but held in secret until the 39th year of my life. The experts said he was not possible, my age and health would make him improbable in conception and impossible in maintaining; yet he is in my arms.

I miss working and being with peers and I miss my precious companion, Maggie. I had to let her go to sleep three weeks ago, and there is a whole in my heart from the loss of my beloved one, the one who replaced so much on the last round of loss from my divorce.

I miss feeling that a man loves me. I long to be cherished and wanted, to be the one that is the light for another and that light in return illuminates my heart. I long for the Spring, but fear the newness of it all, the fresh blooms and sweet fragrance, the cool shade of green and fireworks of pink blossoms. Yet Spring will come, days will be longer and I will keep one foot in front of the other until I look in the mirror and recognize myself again.

I welcome the day that I realize I am no longer coping, but actually thriving. I will welcome the day when the turning stops at 360 instead of 180. I long for life as I know it again, for the girl who embraced the changes and forged ahead to return to life. Perhaps it will happen in the new season ahead.

The Love of My Life

It was almost a year since that beautiful weekend, yet it is more than a lifetime ago. I ventured to Jackson, Tennessee to have one last time of sharing with a person who would change the course of my life.  Back then, I was searching for the love of my life, never imagining the way he would find me.   My son, Evan is 5 weeks old and HE is the love of my lifetime.

God is amazing and his mercy endures forever.  Call me grateful and call me blessed.