Contrary to Stereotypical Belief...

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One of these days...

One of these days, I'll blog about what happened with my ex, and why I left him. Many of our mutual friends & family didn't believe me, since he was so good at covering things up and talking his way out of problems - AND the fact he had me scared to tell anyone how I felt & what was happening because of his "connections."

I began likening the clergy-church "family" to a mafia organization...

But, I digress. Today is too beautiful to mar with images and thoughts of a very depressing past full of suicidal thoughts, emotional and physical beatings, threats, homelessness and missing money...

I plan on focusing my blog from here on out on the positive things I've learned about myself and attempt to put a humorous spin on my trials & tribulations. Hopefully, someone will read this blog and follow my links to discovery more about themselves. Moreover, I will discover what "freedom of speech" really means - since for the last 15 years I've been censored in what I was "allowed" to say for the world to see for fear that someone would read the truth and use it against me, costing my (now-ex-)husband his job. What I didn't realize then, was he was doing fine at losing his jobs without my help...

I left this one post from my previous blog because the story of Ambjor's birth was such a miracle to me. I'd blogged about my eldest, Kjersti's birth, as well - but again, was told to delete it because "someone in the congregation" complained... **sigh** If I find the text file, I just may re-upload it here! It's a humorous, tearful, happy story as well.

Until I find the words to say, and the time to say them, I will leave you all simply with the lyrics to three songs that speak volumes about my life. Thank you, Twila Paris & Amy Grant (respectively) for these wonderful expressions of my innermost thoughts!!

Lately I've been winning battles left and right

But even winners can get wounded in the fight

People say that I'm amazing

Strong beyond my years

But they don't see inside of me

I'm hiding all the tears

They don't know that I go running home when I fall down

They don't know who picks me up when no one is around

I drop my sword and cry for just a while

'Cause deep inside this armour

The warrior is a child

Unafraid because His armor is the best

But even soldiers need a quiet place to rest

People say that I'm amazing

Never face retreat

But they don't see the enemies

That lay me at His feet

They don't know that I go running home when I fall down

They don't know who picks me up when no one is around

I drop my sword and cry for just a while

'Cause deep inside this armour

The warrior is a child

I drop my sword and look up for His smile

Because deep inside this armor

Deep inside this armor

Deep inside this armor

The Warrior is a Child

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

When the weight of all my dreams

Is resting heavy on my head,

And the thoughtful words of health and hope

Have all been nicely said.


But I'm still hurting,

Wondering if I'll ever be

The one I think I am.


I think I am.


Then you gently re-remind me

That you've made me from the first,

And the more I try to be the best

The more I get the worst.

And I realize the good in me,

Is only there because of who you are.

Who you are...


And all I ever have to be

Is what you've made me.

Any more or less would be a step

Out of your plan.


As you daily recreate me,

Help me always keep in mind

That I only have to do

What I can find.

And all I ever have to be

All I have to be

All I ever have to be

Is what you've made me.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

I may not be every mother's dream for her little girl,

And my face may not grace the mind of everyone in the world.

But that's all right, as long as I can have one wish I pray:

When people look inside my life, I want to hear them say,

She's got her Father's eyes,

Her Father's eyes;

Eyes that find the good in things,

When good is not around;

Eyes that find the source of help,

When help just can't be found;

Eyes full of compassion,

Seeing every pain;

Knowing what you're going through

And feeling it the same.

Just like my Father's eyes,

My Father's eyes,

My Father's eyes,

Just like my Father's eyes.

And on that day when we will pay for all the deeds we have done,

Good and bad they'll all be had to see by everyone.

And when you're called to stand and tell just what you saw in me,

More than anything I know, I want your words to be,

She had her Father's eyes,

Her Father's eyes;

Eyes that found the good in things,

When good was not around;

Eyes that found the source of help,

When help would not be found;

Eyes full of compassion,

Seeing every pain;

Knowing what you're going through,

And feeling it the same.

Just like my Father's eyes,

My Father's eyes,

My Father's eyes,

Just like my Father's eyes.

My Father's eyes,

My Father's eyes,

Just like my Father's eyes.

Again, I give a doctor a complex...

When our eldest daughter Kjersti was born, they had to page the doctor 3 times to get him to my room and he almost didn't get ready in time. That was blamed on it being April Fools' Day & him thinking the nurses were pulling his leg. This time around, I know it's just how my body works...lol...

I was admitted at 9am Wednesday, pumped with meds and left to cook, as it were. Things would come and go, and at some point overnight the doctor decided to try upping the ante by breaking my water (since it worked last time). However, the magnesium sulfate they had me on to prevent preeclampsia complications like seizures, etc. was fighting my body's natural ability to advance contractions. They started a pitocin drip on me in the morning on Thursday, slowly, and would watch the increase levels to try moving me forward gently. It worked like a dream thanks to a wonderful nurse (murse, as it were...) named Glenn. He was diligent about eying the contractions until he thought they were steady, then backing my meds off to see if my body would take over, and upping the dose if it didn't or if it slowed. The doc came back in around 10:45, checked everything and said I was up to 7cm and doing good but the outside monitors kept losing the baby's heartbeat when I'd move during a contraction so he put a little monitor on her scalp instead (yay - one less thing making my discomfort even worse!). He left to pick up his son from school & drop him off at home. That's all my body needed to know.

Once he left - nearly immediately after he closed the door - the contractions started coming closer. And stronger. I remembered from Kjersti the little signals my body was getting close, and I mentioned to Glenn that it was a lot of pressure and almost a "pushy" feeling, as they called it when your body wants to start pushing instinctively (kinda like how you can't control the stomach contractions when you're throwing up). He said to keep an eye on the feelings and he was going to get the other nurses to start getting stuff ready. The room was a flurry of activity, and the head OB nurse came in to check me out and see if it was physically safe for me to not fight my body's instincts. She had just answered the call from downstairs (her daughter was a nurse on 2nd floor and wanted to check on me since she'd admitted me on Wednesday) and told Jayne that I was ready and to watch for the doc to come back. I found out later that he'd gotten his son home and had just turned on the car, backing out of the driveway, when the call came to get back ASAP. He was apparently stripping out of his coat and sweater as he came up the stairs after Jayne told him I was nearly there. He came into the room, asked the head nurse if I was safe to push, she said yes, and he said to just let it happen. He got into his gown (but not the cover-up pants) as the second contraction hit and he told me to just push with my body's urges. He sat down, with a nurse tying the back of his scrub gown as the third one hit me, he said to push with it again, and she slid into his arms. Talk about timing, huh?

He's not used to being that rushed, usually a very methodical and calm man. It was kinda funny to watch him scrambling ;-) She passed all of her tests, looked nice and pink, and was a generally healthy baby. All 6 pounds 13.5 ounces of her, 21 1/4 inches long. 11:52am December 18, 2008 will forever be etched in my memory - just like April 1, 2005 has yet to fade. This time I was definitely more scared, for the safety of myself and the baby after all the medical complications and the threat of serious intervention if I didn't progress. I feel very fortunate to have worked with such wonderful nurses, doctor, and support staff at our small local hospital. I didn't get nearly the same individual attention and personal service at the larger hospital when I had Kjersti. I mean really, how many hospitals have a cook that does everything from scratch - including homemade banana bread, bread pudding with lemon sauce, cream chicken & veggies over homemade biscuits... We're so spoiled here in this small community hospital :-)

I want to sincerely thank all of our friends and relatives for their thoughts and prayers. We've got a few more re-checks to go (she's a bit jaundiced like her big sister was, so we're watching her blood levels closely) until we're given a completely clean bill of health, but we're well on our way back to "normal". :-)