Happiness

For so many years I felt content, sometimes a little sad or worried, but for most of my life I have been content. The biggest struggle I have had is my weight and my acceptance of myself and my body. That has been a major pitfall and the amount of years spent wasted on the hell my bigger body has caused is embarrassing and almost tragic. Something started changing 4 years ago, I started changing. Yes I had lost some weight and found some new motivation in myself. I sort of just stopped "thinking" about everything and starting doing things, making changes. Meeting Kent and then marrying him was the smartest and best decision I have made to date. Last night as Carter was fussing and Kent kept getting out of bed and rocking him to sleep I was struck by how happy I was. My days are limited with Carter and I hanging out at home and that does make me cry, but I know it is going to be OK. What I am so struck by is that my happiness is not centered around a smaller body (I still have quite a bit of weight to lose), it's not about an upcoming vacation or new piece of furniture. My happiness is centered around my family. I love to say that word, my family. I have a family, one I have created myself, not that I was born into. I don't really care about what the fall's latest fashions are, or if I should have highlighted my hair differently or what Anglelina and Brad are up to. What I care about the most is the two men in my life, both who bring me more joy than they know.

Usually around the holidays I get really stressed/upset. This year I have felt so mellow. We have several stops on Christmas Eve and then we will end up at our home with a few friends coming over for dinner. If something happens and nobody can make it, than I am fine with that too. I have everything I need in my home right now, pure love. I swear that Carter knows exactly when he needs to smile, or make a little cooing noise. I love how Kent and Carter are total buddies and make one another laugh. This is what I want for Christmas, my family. I don't really care about the presents, or the decorations. These memories we are creating are by far my favorite thing.

There is something so refreshing for me that I am happy, I am truly happy. I have a hope that is very bright for my future. I am looking forward to getting healthier again and taking a little time for myself. I want Kent and I to both take our health more seriously now that we have Carter and one day more kid(s). I think it is the holidays that make me feel so grateful. I have a healthy family that can afford to pay their bills and put food on the table. I am not really a praying person but I think very kind thoughts for those out there who don't have what I do. I do feel very strongly though that I created this happiness. I was terrified to date and have someone see the real me. Thank goodness I finally changed my mind.

Three weeks and counting....

I can't believe that Carter is 3 1/2 weeks old. His little belly button just fell off last night (thank God...I was so ready to see that little thing gone!), he is so observant and I'm amazed at the strength he has. This time I have had with his has just flown by, but I appreciate it so much. There are times that I find myself holding him, particularly after he has just eaten and he is sleeping in my arms, that I still am in disbelief that this little person is mine. I find myself amazed and at times almost shocked that Carter belongs to Kent and I. Carter is the baby I have always wanted, and it is just really starting to settle in that he is not going anywhere, he is staying with us. This is probably odd to some people, but I really in my heart always feared that I would not be a mom, the thing I wanted the most. One thing that has really helped me get past this fear and shock is to tell him probably 100x a day how much I love him and how excited we are to have him. We have photos of him in our home, I love folding his clothes and I don't even mind the 1am or 4am feedings, but this is my job. Right now I am a stay at home mom, and I am embracing it as much as I can.

This month I am taking a baby massage class that many of my work friends recommended. I laughed at this months ago, but now that Carter is "real" I find myself open to just about anything that might make him happy. I love taking him in the stroller for walks, plus I need to really start losing some weight. One thing that has really bummed me out is that due to the high dose of diuretics that I was on my breast milk is gone, completely gone. I was worried about breastfeeding, like so many women with PCOS, and the combination of the pills and PCOS just sucked it out of me. I cried for a few days about this as I really wanted to experience this with Carter. I did fenugreek, rented a medical grade pump, ate and pumped at the same time and did my best to relax; but it unfortunately did not work. When I tell people that I am not breastfeeding I get really pissed at some of their reactions, like I "chose" to no longer breastfeed. No, I did not choose this. My blood pressure was dangerously high and I had to take care of myself, so that I could take care of Carter. I met with lactation specialists and did everything they could think of so when people make comments to me that almost reference my "giving up" it really pisses me off. Of course with all these hormones in me, that is pretty easy to do (-:

Kent and I also were matched up with a PEPS group that will start in the middle of the month. It is basically 6-8 couples who have infants around the same age as Carter that live within a few miles of us. We meet at one another's homes once a week and basically just hang out with others in very similar situations..brand new babies and no clue what to do with them. I hope we are matched with a group that we can make friends with. I am also looking into a mother's group that meets once a week on Monday's for 8 weeks. I'm not sure about it yet, so will post once I know more. Right now I'm just taking this new role of motherhood very seriously, it is my only job until January 3rd, when I return to work. I've been sensitive about work recently, but I am so excited to say we have found a nanny. I had secured a very good daycare spot after relentless searching but through a friend, I have found a woman who has raised her grandchildren and is only interested in being a nanny to an infant. Her name is Susan and I have known her for several years. She is a very "young" older person who is hip, super savy with kids, and is so excited to be Carter's nanny. Kent and I are excited as well. I love that Susan wants to take him to the library, Gymboree, the zoo, daily walks in Discovery Park and she will even bring him to my work so that I can see him. I love her principles on childcare and I know how much her own grand kids adore her.

This transition into parenthood has been a very smooth one, knock on wood! Kent and I each have different roles, but they fit like puzzle pieces. Due to the fact we are not breastfeeding Kent can actually help out with feedings and he actually changes probably the same amount of diapers that I do. When he gets home from work he is so excited to see Carter. He right away wants to help. I feel so fortunate that my husband is this way. He respects my need to have a few minutes in the evening, as I do his. It really is, so far so good.

My new love

I have a new love in my life, a sweet little nugget named Carter Davis who was born on 10-14-10. The time(s) leading up to his delivery were a bit traumatic but all was forgotten once I heard that cry and the announcement that "it's a boy!" As I lay there unable to focus/breathe/move due to an unscheduled C section, Kent looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, "it's Carter!"

This has been a complete whirlwind. Carter was induced twice and both times he said, hell no, I'm not coming out. The second time we tried I was not going home without a baby in my arms, no matter what. The 24 hours leading up to his arrival was traumatic in the sense of multiple treatments to get him to drop and my cervix to dilate. Also knowing fully well that I wanted an epidural after we reached a 4 we started the process, and what a process it was. I thoroughly explained to the anesthesiologists that I was very difficult to numb at the dentist etc. They probably didn't believe me, but on the 5th (FIFTH) time of punching through my back, inserting probes to the left and right and realizing that I was still not numb, I began to panic, as did they a bit. I held still on and off again for over 2 hours while no less than 4 doctors worked on me. I finally panicked and hit the wall a bit and sort of sobbed to Kent that I was terrified the epidural was not going to work and that I would not have my head wrapped in the right place for a natural childbirth. I had been given Petocin for over 12 hours and the contractions were coming every 2 minutes, but the baby was not moving. The physician on-call, who I really liked, told me that she would give me another hour to get something to progress or we would need to discuss a C-section. I told her no discussion, let's just do it. Here is where my enthusiasm was probably too much. It was like the hospital went into overdrive. Suddenly Kent is dressing, they are prepping me, carting me around the hospital, throwing me on a new bed with bright lights and a spinal tap in my back....it was too much.

Panic started to set in when they had numbed me up to my neck, for fear of not numbing me enough. I couldn't feel myself breathe and I honestly feared this unknown. Then I started dry heaving and vomiting. Kent's eyes showed fear as well and I started yelling at him as I was already painfully aware of how awful this situation was. I could hear the physicians chatting about my amazing abs (I had a tummy tuck 5 years ago and apparently the stitching inside is quite nice). As I closed my eyes and asked God for help through this terrifying 15 minutes I finally heard what I had been waiting 41 weeks for, my little baby's cry. It was intense, it was beautiful and unforgettable. They quickly took Carter over to the exam area and he was given the thumbs up. Kent brought him over to me and I told Kent he needed to hold and love Carter as I was not able too as all of our birthing books and classes talk about the instant skin to skin contact between the mom and baby. As Kent did this I realized I was the luckiest woman in the world and finally, my dreams have come true.

It has been almost 2 weeks since Carter was born. In this time I have experienced the pain of a C section, incredibly difficult hormonal adjustments, severe blood pressure problems which have panicked many, but...it has not changed my love for this new little man of mine. Kent is such an amazing dad, I can not say enough about how helpful he is. Kent is SO in love with Carter, and it just warms my heart as Kent had a very odd and at times "trying" childhood with both of his parents so I worried a bit about his own bonding with his children. I shall not worry anymore.
Our new family of three is in such a good place right now. We are taking each day as it comes and we are focusing on all of the good we have around us right now. I wake up every few hours, and even though I am exhausted, I am still so excited to hold Carter and feed him. Life is beautiful!

My wishes and dreams

I'm sitting here at work today, 35 years old and ready to have my first child anytime now. I have been busily getting my house unpacked, remodeled and prepared for Shim's arrival. Last night I went through a box of old photo albums from many, many years ago...college days, late 20's up until the present day. I looked at these photos, especially those from my early 20's with amazement. In these photos was a girl who had dreams of having a husband and a family. Of course I wanted to have a career, to travel, to be skinny and beautiful and wealthy, but secretly, I wanted to experience love and have a family of my own. As the years passed I held onto my secret dream and watched as friends would get married and start having families. I held my head high, bought a little white dog and named him Frank Kelley, and did the best I could to keep my feet moving in front of the other. Frank and I would take long walks and runs in our neighborhood. I would pass these beautiful homes filled with the image of happiness that I so desperately wanted, kids playing, eating at the dinner table together, watching TV or playing games. Some nights I would just cry a stream of tears as I wondered what would happen in my life. Last night the same tears came about.

I started looking at the early photos of Kent and I and reading the cards Kent has given me throughout the years. I sat there, sobbing and laughing at some of the things Kent has written me in the past 4 years. The first card he gave me was actually attached to a beautiful bouquet of flowers he sent me to my work on our first month anniversary of dating. Kent didn't even really know where I worked, but he googled it, ordered some flowers and then wrote on the card, "Happy one month anniversary. From your man friend Kent. I can still remember that day like it was yesterday, the women in my office in awe as these flowers arrive from a guy who is still just a guy in my life. Kent has always been more than just a guy to me. I knew within the first month of hanging around with him that he was the one, he was going to be the man I marry. My walk down memory lane was so emotional last night, thank God I was by myself as he would have been uncomfortable if I sat there and cried and re-read all his cards.

The cards that started to really bring on the tears were the ones that Kent gave me last summer/fall. The ones of encouragement about how 2010 would be "our" year and all of our "dreams" would come true. Kent never fully came out and said that we would have a baby, but that was what he referenced and what he wanted as well. Now that I have 11 days left until Shim due date I am a mess, a complete wreck. I could complain about the weight gain, swollen feet, uncomfortableness etc. That is not what is making me a mess, what is making me a mess is the sheer joy I feel. Through all of these end of the road pregnancy symptoms I am still processing this event as I know best, with love and joy. I, Lisa, am going to be someones mom soon. That 20 year old girl who would sit in the coffee shops on Capitol Hill in Seattle and journal for hours about what I wanted in life is finally going to get her wish. It is still surreal for me. I am excited, nervous and grateful beyond belief. I don't care any longer that all of the house is not completely remodeled, or that I am not able to be on the go as much any longer. Beautiful shoes and handbags seem like they are so far in my past, even my coveted Louboutin's that Kent bought me as a wedding gift. I'll take a nike running shoe over my Louboutin's if it means that I can carry Shim easier. My life is now wrapped up in my husband and this life inside of me.

Last week-end I cried to Kent that soon we would no longer be Kent and Lisa. I have loved this 4 years together more than I can say and the new change that is around the corner is a dream for both of us. Kent and I have vowed to keep the bond we have towards one another, but I know that Shim is going to need us more than we will need one another. All of those photos around the house of Kent and I will slowly be refilled with a family, our new family. I've been told by many that I am too much of a dreamer, well now I know that dreams can really come true.

Time....

Kent asked me the other night if we had any other stores to go to and I blankly stared at him and said, "the one that sells us more time." It is August 24th and I am frightened that in one week it will be September. I will have essentially one month until Baby Davis comes. Here have been our highs and lows over the past several weeks:

1) Kent has been a rock star and is killing himself to get our home finished. The landscape is complete, I can almost go without shoes on all 4 levels of my house as the chances of nails etc embedding themselves into my foot is almost impossible ( I say almost as I found two strays just hanging out in the carpet outside of my bedroom last night).

2) Kent's rock star status has to be downgraded a little bit as the only way the house is getting complete is that he has totally blown our budget. I don't know by how much, I leave those things for Kent to deal with. I mean when you need a new front door, don't you have to replace every door in the HOUSE so that everything is aligned and structured together? My pretend gay husband with his decorating and spacial qualities will just never understand what a true necessity is when it comes to remodeling a home. I am loving how it turns out and I just hope I can produce enough breast milk as that will seriously have to be the nutrition for the 3 of us!

3) I have had two showers now, both of them quite lovely and overwhelming with gifts. I have been so bad lately about photos, so I only have this one, which shows how crazy and generous my friends and family are.



4) Amidst all of this chaos we have had some tragedy as one of Kent's few relatives was killed in a freak drowning incident. He was a twin, only 19 years old, and it was so sad. We drove to Lincoln City, Oregon and as I sat during this funeral I would look at his parents and my sadness was overwhelming. Shim is sitting inside of me, all cocooned and waiting for his/her big arrival in 6 weeks. I love Shim more than I can say and I cry every time I think of Zach's parents and his twin sister and the sadness they are feeling. Kent's mother is also not doing very well. She suffers from bi-polar/depression/psychosomatic episodes and she is in a little of a zinger right now. It is so difficult and the timing is never good, particularly now. I am not the most reasonable person right now so Kent is really having to work hard right now to keep both me and his mom in the right place.

5) This past week-end we went to our friends Colleen and Trever's wedding. It was a very long day, but we danced and let loose. Kent is such a fun guy, I am so lucky to have him as my partner. I haven't really been taking pregnancy photos as, honestly, some people say they can't tell I am pregnant. When I tell them I am due October 6th they look at me sideways and I just explain that I am a big girl, and when you are big all over, the baby has more room. Here are a few photos from the wedding.





I am in a state of mind right now that is of love and hope. When Shim gives me a good kick, I say hi and tell Shim that I love them very much. When I sit in the nursery, which is so close to being done, I actually tear up a bit with anticipation that someday very soon I will have my little baby in my arms. Since I was a little girl I wanted to be married and a mom more than anything. It was very hard for me to find love, or actually, very hard to allow myself to love and be loved. Kent has brought more to my life than I can possibly explain to people and now, with Shim so close to being born, I am literally brimming with love. I don't know if I have ever been able to say that.

Easter throughout the years....

When I was younger my Mother always dressed my sister up in white dresses, patent leather shoes and a handbag of our choice. We were accessorized head to toe for our trip to church and then to the Easter egg hunt at my Grandma June's. As the years have passed there is no longer a trip to church, or Grandmas, or white dresses; but there is still an Easter egg hunt. It's embarrassing, but it is a competition that I still love to this day.

My mother loves the holidays, she loves to spoil us. She grew up with 10 brothers and sisters and poor as dirt. Her family is a tough bunch of peeps but through all their drama, they are still family. Her goal seems to spoil us to the core and it continues into my 35th year of life. At Easter she still buys plastic eggs and fills them, not with candy, but money. This started about 6 years ago and we were shocked to find $5, $10 and $20 bills scattered around the house. My favorite hunt was one a few years ago that we just picked from a basket because she had her eyelids done two days prior to Easter and she couldn't see. She wore these pink sparkly sunglasses at dinner and I kept calling her Stevie Wonder. That Easter Kent and I killed my sister, of the 3 eggs she picked 2 were total duds, nothing in them. Apparently my sister has been buttering my mom up for Sunday's hunt and asking what colors have the most money. Kent and I are like an Amazing Race team in my parents Puyallup House. We can spot a clue box in a flash. I plan on kicking serious butt on Sunday.

Tonight I am taking Kent to see Hot Tub Time Machine, my expectations are low and I am sure we will still have fun. Then Saturday, if the movie is a bust, I am going to get back at Kent by making him join me for a live performance of Garrison Keillor's A Prairie Home Companion. I am jacked. His voice is totally calming and I love the fictitious town of Lake Wobegon that he tells stories of. NPR is not something I find myself listening to often. My ultimate favorite show though is This American Life. For any of you out there who need an hour every once in awhile to tune out, these shows literally can take you into another world.

Quality of Life

I'm up pretty early this morning, sleep just did not come natural. My mind is swirling and I have to address what it is about.

When Kent and I went on our first date we spoke a little about our families. Kent really did not want to share, but being the nosy one I am, I told him to just go for it. In a 10 minute span I learned he was an only child, his parents were divorced at the young age of 4, his father and him and not spoken for 8 years or seen each other for well over 10 and his mother was homeless and living in her car in a Wal-Mart parking lot.

Woah! My gut thought holy crap, what in the hell am I going to do with this? Our first date was really so wonderful though that this information went to the wayside, as it should. I reminded myself that we do not choose our families, I would rather see the friends and acquaintances that Kent surrounded himself with (which is a group of incredible people). I had some serious concerns as the weeks went on, particularly when Kent moved his Mother into his home. It was almost when Jean (Mother) moved into Kent's house, Kent then moved into my apartment. I sort of went back in forth in that part of your brain where you wonder why someone wants to date you and was it just for him to be able to get away from his Mom?

Time obviously proved that theory wrong and he was able to move Jean into a studio apartment about 30 miles away. He paid for her rent, her food and her cigarettes (something I struggle with deeply). Jean has an unfortunately severe case of Bi-Polar; a term that I think is so freely used these days for anyone who is a little off, a little manic or a little depressed. Jean's case is extreme and difficult to control. Kent and I have spent many many hours discussing his childhood so that I could have a better understanding of his mom. At many points in her life she had decent jobs that allowed her to support she and Kent. When he was a little boy he remembers some odd behavior; like eating at Burger King a month straight for every meal. Sounds like a child's dream, but really, an entire month? It was essential that Kent tell me all of these good things about her and her past life because all I could see is a woman who is unable to take care of herself and causes a great deal of stress on the man I love....the man that I wanted to marry. This woman would then become my family, my problem, and ultimately a little of my fears.

Kent and I recently decided to hire Jean a private social worker (who we pay for) to help us through the world of government paperwork and get her better care. Jean is on disability and receives $770 a month to live on; survive on. There is no way that will ever be enough so Kent has always supplemented her income. My husband is a good man, there is just no other way of saying it. I am personally concerned about the quality of her life and worry about how she sits in her small studio watching TV, smoking cigarette after cigarette and living off of TV dinners. I keep thinking that I have the answers, that maybe Kent has missed something and that because we have bags and bags of papers on her that the answer to "fixing" her has just been missed.

Well I think I have just had my first true experience in dealing with the "world" of Jean. Yesterday we were going to see her and to pay her rent and give her some spending money. When Kent called her she told him she was 10 minutes away from calling 9-1-1 because she did not feel good. This is unfortunately something she does often and it just grates me like mad. Kent told her to not too, that we were coming up there; but she did it anyway. To make a really really long day in to a few sentences---we spent 3 hours cleaning her under 500 square foot apartment which was overflowing with trash, dirt and smells; we spent hours waiting for her to be sent home from the ER- but they actually kept her overnight this time (which is a totally different subject regarding the health care system and why they did this). When we went to see her she was lying on a bed and looked so sad and old. This is not how my new mother-in-law is suppose to be. This is not how anyone should be. I had a very stern conversation with Jean that since I am now married to her Son things were going to change; she will now have me to deal with regarding her health. She was upset and told me not to raise my voice at her. It went on for a bit and now I wonder why I even tried.

Who am I to say that living in a studio apartment at the age 0f 61 and your only joys are cigarettes and TV is a bad choice. Jean truly does suffer from an illness and I have so many thought and emotions regarding it. Mental health is high misunderstood and terribly frustrating. Kent has been dealing with this for almost his entire life; I have been dealing with this for about a year. I don't know if Jean's life will ever be any better than it currently is. It is strange that I am consumed right now with someone else's happiness, but Kent can no longer be the only person to handle his mother.
When Kent and I were married we did not say the traditional vows; we said more unconventional vows that truly meant what our hearts said. Somewhere in those vows though I made a pact to this man to stand by his side and support him with all I can. I also knew on that day that I was marrying a truly exceptional man.