On birthdays and life....

I don't know if I've ever really gone into Alex's story before....

My divorce from Ex1 had been final for several months when I met Alex's father. We were introduced by a mutual friend at a bar one night - I was being hit on by a really skanky guy (oh my hell was he skanky) and a friend of mine was the bartender. She came out from around the bar, grabbed me, shoved me into this group of guys and said "this is my friend - take care of her" and then went back to her post. As it turned out, one of the guys in this group was her cousin.

Long story short, we started dating. One thing led to another, and boom - I was pregnant.

As soon as I told him the news, he "needed space".

I was at work one night when I started having sharp pains in the left side of my abdomen. I tried to ignore them, but they got more and more intense as the night progressed. When my relief showed up at midnight, I split and drove myself to the hospital as fast as I could. I was only about 7 weeks along, so I hadn't actually seen my OB/GYN yet, but I knew something was wrong. I got to the ER, went through the preliminary BS, and could tell from the looks of the nurses' faces that it was bad. So I called him.

He showed up. But that was about it. I was in a panic, knowing that I was going to lose the baby. After hours of testing, the ER doctor informed me that I had a sub-chorionic hemorrhage and I was more than likely going to lose the baby. I never felt so alone in my life, even though my baby's father was in the room with me.

I was eventually sent home and told to schedule a follow up with my OB/GYN. As I sat in his office and he told me that I had less than a 50% chance of carrying this baby to term, I freaked. I knew that realistically, my life was a mess. I was a newly single mother with 3 very young kids, and the last thing that I needed was another one, but suddenly I knew that no matter what, I wanted this baby to make it. I didn't look to this baby as a way to get his/her father back into my life, but I looked to it as another reason for me to live.

I was in such a deep, dark hole at the time that I didn't know where to turn. I knew that if something happened to me, my 3 kids could go and live with their father and everything would be fine. But this baby - this little being who only had me to count on - I knew that he/she only had me. And that thought kept me going. This baby gave me a reason to be strong and to do what needed to be done.

When I found out just a few weeks later that this baby was going to have a sibling who would only be a few weeks younger than he was - I didn't have a very kind reaction. In fact, I was downright hateful, nasty, and mean. Realistically, those reactions did nothing to benefit me. I knew that I was going to be raising this baby on my own - and finding out that there was another woman pregnant by the same man at the same time did nothing but cement the fact that I was truly on my own at this point.

At one point during the pregnancy, Ex1 actually took me to court to try to gain full custody of the older 3 kids. He used the reasoning that my previous pregnancies had been so hard on me (they hadn't) that an unplanned one would just be too much stress and the kids would be better off with him than they were with me. Luckily, I made it through that ordeal with no changes to our custody arrangement - and it gave me more motivation to power through all of it and show just how strong I could actually be.

Alex decided to make his appearance almost 3 weeks earlier than he should have. I wasn't prepared for his arrival - even though I was already at the hospital with a sick kid when I went into labor. But his birth showed me that no matter what, something wonderful and beautiful will always come out of the storm.

He's been challenging. He's been difficult. He's had more health issues than the other 4 kids combined. But he's the most loving, most compassionate, most loving little being on this earth - and his hugs are enough to make the worst days seem just a little bit brighter. He's had to put up with me 24/7 but at the same time he's shown me that no matter what, he still loves me - and occasionally he even likes to hang out with me. And those moments are my favorites.

Happy 11th, Alex.

It's all about Alex

So today was Alex's 7th birthday. It's hard for me to believe. In the grand scheme of things, I know that 7 isn't old, but he's getting older!

And if he's getting older, that means that I am too. I'm not crazy about that idea.

Anyway, I'm honestly just not in the mood to sit here at the computer tonight, so if you want to read his whole birth story you can. He probably has one of the most interesting stories out of the 5 kids, so to me it's worth reading.

Today consisted of basketball (both Emily and Jared had games) and then lunch at home...and then a few hours at the park....and then frozen yogurt....then home, and supper, and cake. So nothing amazingly wonderful, except for being able to run around the park for a few hours wearing nothing more than jeans and tshirts and being comfortable - how does that happen in mid-January in Kansas?

A few pictures of the birthday boy....

Trying to keep him amused at one of the games.

Couldn't get a picture of him standing still to save my life.

I can play too....

The cake had issues. But it was good.

I'm the mother of a teenager.

How did that happen? It's just not possible. No way. No how.

But yes, officially at 7:25pm on Sunday, November 21, 1999 Ex1 and I welcomed our Sarah into the world. I had a difficult pregnancy with her, and that continued right through the delivery and the first few months of her life, but somehow we survived. I can't believe that it's been 13 years already.

She has grown into an amazing young woman. She is smart and funny and athletic and artistic. She is caring and compassionate and always looks for a way to help others. I am so incredibly proud of her.

Of course, at the same time - boy, do we push each other's buttons. She is truly my mini-me, and because we are so much alike, we do spend a lot of time fighting. But I love her with all of my heart and soul.

We just did cake and ice cream as a family last night, but I'm planning to take her out at some point in the (hopefully near) future - just me and her, no other kids or anyone. And Ex1 and I went together and got her a phone - I wasn't thrilled about the idea, but with her sports schedule and everything else that we have going on in our lives, we think it's time. Hopefully we don't end up regretting that decision!

The Dude lighting the candles on the traditional
cake

"Wow, there's a lot of heat coming off of the candles, Mom!"
Yeah, wait until you're my age, kid.

She thought long and hard about her wish...

Don't let her kid you - she really does like him.

I have to admit - I got all sorts of emotional when I was looking at the
"13" birthday cards at the store.

Me and Mini-Me

5 years ago...

The story of Daniel's birth is one that I haven't told in great detail for a lot of reasons. But I'm going to tell it now - for those very same reasons.

This is what I looked like on June 9, 2007. Daniel wasn't due until June 19, and I wasn't having any symptoms of going into labor, but we decided to take a picture anyway, and I am so glad that we did!

If you have been following my blog for any length of time, you might remember that Daniel's father was an alcoholic. He battled it for many years, but it didn't work. He continued to drink. And when he drank, he could be very mean and at times was even physically abusive. I had told him numerous times throughout my pregnancy that if he was drunk when I went into labor, I would go to the hospital myself - hoping that the threat would keep him from drinking. But, it didn't work.

That night, he was drunk. He went upstairs to bed and passed out fairly early in the night. I sat up to watch a movie - "Deep Impact" - until it was over around 2:00am on Sunday morning, June 10. During the movie, I started to feel....funky. I had a bizarre pain that kept coming and going every 5 minutes, but it wasn't a contraction so I wasn't too concerned. But, it continued. Finally, at the end of the movie I decided that I would just go ahead and go to the hospital - even if I wasn't in labor, I thought that if he woke up and I was gone, it might make him think twice before he took the next drink.

I got up off of the couch and walked into the kitchen to get the charger for my phone to put in my bag, and then went around the corner to go up the steps to get a receiving blanket. As I lifted my leg to go up the first step, my water broke - and when I say "broke" I really mean that it exploded. Everywhere. This had never happened with the previous 4 pregnancies, so I started to panic. I stood there thinking to myself "this is my 5th kid, my water just exploded, and this kid is going to come NOW!" So I started yelling for him to wake up. Every time I took a breath to yell, more fluid gushed out, making me panic even more. Finally, he woke up and realized what was happening - I told him to grab a towel from the upstairs bathroom and get moving. He brought me the towel and I basically diapered myself with it and told him to meet me in the van - and don't forget the carseat.

I walked out the back door, calling the hospital to let them know that I was on my way. As I stepped out of the door, I felt my hair stand up on end and realized that there was lightning in the sky - everywhere around me. I waddled as fast as I could to the van and waited for him. Finally, he came out, with his cigarettes in his hand, but no carseat. I yelled at him, asking him where the carseat was, and he started to turn around to go back and get it, and a contraction hit. I told him to forget about it, get into the van, and DRIVE!

It was the scariest drive ever. Here he was, drunk, driving me to the hospital. I should have driven, but I wasn't sure that I could in the condition that I was in at the time. When we got to the hospital, he dropped me off at the ER entrance and went to park the van. I bolted waddled as fast as I could to the maternity wing and quickly told a nurse that my husband was coming behind me, and he was drunk. She assured me that if he created a scene, he would be asked to leave.

We got to my room and I got the epidural almost immediately. He passed out on the recliner in the room and I was able to doze off and on for a few hours. By the time I was in active labor, he was sober. I have to admit that he was fantastic while I labored and throughout the delivery. We were both happy and it was a great moment. He stayed throughout the day, and went home that night.

The next morning I was scheduled to get my tubes tied. He got there before I left for surgery and waited until I was done. Then he said that he was going to go back to the house to check the mail. I was suspicious, but I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. He came back a few hours later carrying a travel mug, and one look at his face told me that my suspicions were correct. He was wasted. He walked back out of the room to get something from the cafeteria, and the nurses immediately descended on my room, and they informed me that he had walked into the wrong room before he got to mine, and they were ready to call for security. Instead, we came up with a code - if when he came back to the room, either the nurses or I felt that he needed to be removed from the premises, we would say something about calling "Dr. Smith" (the pediatrician).

He came back in minus the travel mug, and Dr. Smith was right behind him. The nurse and I looked at each other like "oh crap, what about our code?" He immediately started getting mouthy with the doctor, telling her that she needed to go get HIM something to eat. She looked at the nurse and said "I think you need to make that phone called that we discussed" and the nurse walked out of the room.

Within minutes, there were 4 city police officers in my room surrounding me. Two of them pulled my husband out of the room while 2 stayed with me, questioning me. Sadly, they were all-too-familiar with our situation, as they had all been to our house before due to the history of violence during his drinking binges. He was escorted off of the hospital property and told not to return - ever. I was quickly moved to a different room in the off-chance that he managed to sneak back in unnoticed. I was devastated.

I spent the rest of the day on Monday talking to a social worker about the situation, crying most of the time. What was supposed to be such a joyous event turned into something that was gut-wrenching and heartbreaking. Daniel and I were dismissed on Tuesday, and for the second time I left the hospital with a newborn alone and drove myself home. I hoped that he would greet us at the door, happy to see us, taking pictures of Daniel's homecoming. Instead, I walked into the house with our newborn son and found him passed out on the floor of the living room. Here I was, 2 days after delivering our son, walking back and forth across the back yard, bring load after load of stuff in from the van - including everything that I had picked up from WalMart on the way home. And he was passed out drunk.

And so continued our life together. He eventually went through rehab, and stayed sober for 99 days - and life was good. But on the 100th day he made the choice to drink again. He continued to drink until well after I asked him to leave our home permanently on May 6, 2009.

So why am I telling this story in detail now? It's certainly not to badmouth Daniel's father. He was a good man but he had demons that were too strong for him to defeat. I have no doubt that he loved Daniel until the day that he died.

I am telling this now because there are so many details of those few days that people don't know about. I have kept a lot of this to myself for 5 years because I was scared and embarrassed to tell the truth about what happened. But, as we celebrate Daniel's 5th birthday this weekend, it brings so many emotions to the surface for me. For him to have come into this world in the middle of such a messed up set of circumstances, he is an amazing little boy. He is smart and funny and happy and healthy - and he shows me that no matter how horrible the situation is, something wonderful can come out of it. He has taught me more about love and strength than anyone else that I know. I knew that even in the darkest days following his father's death that we would get through it, and that we would get through it together.

He doesn't really remember his father. He recognizes him in pictures, and he tells me that his "daddy died and went to Heaven" but he is still too young to really comprehend what that means. Right now, he knows that his father was sick - and as he gets older he will ask more questions, and I know that those questions will become harder to answer, but we will get through it - just as we have been doing.

We had a little party for him today since the older 3 kids are leaving in the morning. We had cake and ice cream and presents, and The Dude and his mother were here to share in it. He walked around all day today proclaiming that although he is 4 years old today, tomorrow he will be 5!



Tomorrow, he celebrates. And I will continue to reflect on the circumstances that brought him into this world while we celebrate with him - and I won't be scared or embarrassed about it any longer.

Happy birthday, Alex!

I can't believe he's 6 years old. It seems so surreal.

He's a unique kid - who came into the world in an extremely unique way. So sit back and enjoy the story.

Alex's father and I dated for a short period of time - it was 3, maybe 4 months. About the time that we discovered that I was pregnant, we broke up. Things were a mess, and he found out soon after we split that he was going to be a father - again. Oops. Anyway....

I went through my pregnancy with Alex pretty much alone, save for my friends. Jeff and I had met and our relationship was starting, but he was still living in Massachusetts and I was here. Alex was due on February 6, 2006 (keep that in mind).

In the fall of 2005, Jared went through a phase where he would get sick every couple of months - like, really sick - and have to get IV fluids to get back on his little feet. On January 17, 2006 he got sick again. It was a Tuesday (remember that, too). I was on the phone with the pediatrician all day, and we finally made the decision to get him admitted to the hospital that evening. I called my friend Dawn, and she offered to come and stay with me and Jared in the hospital to keep me company. He was admitted around 9pm that Tuesday, and Dawn got there shortly after that.

Since I knew that I was going to be there overnight with him, I put on comfy clothes and grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste and my deoderant - nothing else (remember that, too). I hadn't eaten supper, so I got a Diet Pepsi and a Snickers out of the vending machine since I was hungry. Jared was in the crib hooked up to IVs, I was hanging out in the hospital bed, and Dawn was hanging out in the recliner, and we were watching TV. I'd say around midnight Tuesday I started having contractions. No big deal - they didn't hurt or anything, so I didn't think much about it.

After a couple of hours, I realized that the contractions were coming every 5 minutes, almost on the dot. I hadn't said anything to Dawn yet but I finally looked at her and said "I wonder if I should start worrying yet." She started to laugh and said "I was wondering when you were going to say something!" Apparently, I was more uncomfortable than I realized, and she had picked up on it. So we called a nurse in and let her know that I was possibly going into labor. She started to panic, and I told her "Look, this is my 4th kid, I know what real labor feels like, and I'm not going to worry yet. Just let me hang out here with Jared until something happens."

Dawn and I stayed up all night long, timing contractions and keeping an eye on Jared. Around 7am I had to call Ex1 to let him know that he needed to take the day off work and come and stay with Jared, because well, I had to go down the hall and be admitted myself (I had planned to stay with Jared since I wasn't working at the time). He took the girls to school and got to the hospital around 9am, and then I waddled down to maternity with Dawn.

Sure enough, I was in labor. I was too far along for them to give me anything to stop the labor, but I wasn't far enough along for them to give me anything to speed it up. So they admitted me for 24 hours and told me that if I didn't have him by then, I'd be sent home.

Keep in mind - it is now Wednesday morning. I've been up since Tuesday morning. The last thing I had to eat was that Snickers bar Tuesday night.

At the time, there were horrible viruses and bugs going around, so once I walked into the maternity wing, I couldn't leave. It's a small hospital, so the maternity wing is small. And when you only have one short hallway to pace up and down, it gets really old really fast. But Dawn and I walked up and down that hallway for hours on Wednesday. Then I would sit on the birthing ball. And then we'd walk. And then I'd sit on the ball. This kept up all day Wednesday. And all afternoon. And all evening. And all night.

I was getting tired. And hungry. And cranky. And shaky. Around midnight Wednesday night - after I had been up for about 40+ hours straight and hadn't eaten for well over 30 - I got bitchy. I called a nurse in and basically told her that if I didn't get some food, someone was going to die and it wasn't going to be me. They called my OB/GYN (who I *love*) and he allowed me to have some broth, some jello, and some 7UP. It was the best.food.ever.

Finally, around 3am on Thursday, I couldn't take it anymore. I was exhausted. I decided to lay down and let nature take its course. I crawled into the bed, pulled the covers up, and felt sleep just overtaking me. I was so comfortable and so at peace with the world.

And then, about 2.5 seconds later, my water EXPLODED. Seriously, there was a *pop* and a *gush* that rivaled the flow over Niagara Falls. Dawn had curled up in the recliner and when she heard me gasp she went from horizontal to vertical in about a nanosecond without even touching the chair. She ran for the nurses' station to let them know, and then all hell broke loose! Nurses came flying into the room, lights came on, lab people were there - and all I wanted to do was sleep, dammit!

The epidural guy came in shortly after that and got me hooked up, and I finally took a mini-nap for an hour or so - by this time, I was going on 43 or 44 hours with no sleep. Finally, at 7:44am on Thursday, Alexander Lewis made his debut - and Dawn got to cut the umbilical cord. It was amazing to share the experience with her.

As soon as the chaos died down, I looked at a nurse and said 3 words: "Get me food." I didn't care what was going on at that point - I had that Snickers on Tuesday night, and the broth and jello in the wee hours of Thursday morning - I needed food. They brought me a tray with everything on it - eggs, bacon, fruit, yogurt, cereal, bagel - you name it, I had it. My OB/GYN walked in while I was eating, took one look at me shoveling the food into my face and just said "I'll come back in a few minutes" and turned around and walked out.

Of course, there I was, in the hospital - with nothing more than the clothes that I was wearing, my toothbrush, toothpaste, and deodorant. No clothes for Alex, no carseat, no clothes for me to change into - nothing. Dawn had to leave to go home and get her kids, so I got a hold of another friend of mine who came to the hospital, got my house key, and went to my house armed with a list of everything that I needed.

Of course, Jared was still in the hospital at this point - if I remember correctly, he and I got released on the same day (Saturday, I think).

So, here are some pictures from 6 years ago today - January 19, 2006.

The morning of January 18 (Wednesday) - up for over 24 hours at this point.

Beached whale??

First picture

7lbs, 15.2oz - and 19 days early.

Alex and Dawn

Heading home

Jared, Emily, and Sarah with Alex - they were all so tiny!

Alex's father did call me the night that he was born, supposedly just to check up on me (we didn't talk much throughout the pregnancy) but he had actually been tipped off that I was at least at the hospital by a family member who saw me in the hallway. He came up that evening to see Alex, along with his very pregnant girlfriend (now wife). I have to say that even though he wasn't there for me then, and even though we've had our issues, all in all he's been a decent father. When he's around, I get along better with him than I do with Ex1 and better than I did with Jeff after we split. It's not the ideal situation, but it could definitely be much much worse.

So now here we are, 6 years later - Alex is no longer that tiny little baby - he's a big boy, and he's smart and funny and active and hyper and exhausting at times - but I wouldn't trade him for the world!

I love you, Alex! I hope that you have a wonderful birthday, little man!