However what struck me was that in the description of beautiful home births I found a hidden barb.  As I read & the re-read the post I started to feel badly about my birthing experience.  I know this was not at all within the realm of the writer’s mind when she was writing the post.  In fact, Willa is the last person who would promote any sort of competition or feeling of ill-will among women.  No all of the sad, inadequate feelings came straight from me.

Suddenly I was feeling like I had somehow failed at being a mother somehow.  That because of complications to my health I delivered my beautiful boy via Caesarean section & somehow that makes my experience less special, less magical.  It wasn’t what I would have chosen…I always imagined that I’d go through labor & delivery naturally.  Well as naturally as possible with a massive dose of pain killers.  Instead I was strapped to a table, numb from the xiphoid process to my toes, and chatting up the surgeons.  I could feel the tugging & pulling going on behind the blue surgical curtain & then I saw Magnus being held up over the curtain so we could see him.  Nothing will ever eclipse the moment I say my son… no matter how he arrived the fact that he arrived is the important point.

What all this made me think of —why do women always feel like they are constantly in competition with each other?  There’s this pressure to have the best, smartest, quickest kid.  Who rolls over, crawls, walks, talks first is inevitably a topic of conversation when mothers are together.  Then there’s what percentile of height, weight, head size to compare—and visiting the doctor every 2 months for the first year where a little graph is charted doesn’t do anything to eliminate this competitive feeling.  I know for me that is one of the first questions my sister-in-law J asks me nearly every time I see her.  Our sons are a month apart (my nephew is older) and there is constant comparison in height & weight.

Thinking about this today I realized that I avoid comparing my son to other kids his age.  I often shrug or change the subject when the comparisons arise.  To me it doesn’t matter if Magnus is the tallest or the heaviest/skinniest baby.  What matters to me is that I can see he is healthy, growing & happy.  However, when it comes to myself I’m the first to not only compare to another woman but I’m certain to see my “shortcomings”.  I’m not the smartest, tallest, most fit, funniest, prettiest or whatever.  The same thing with being a mommy- I tend to look at what another mom has done & find that I don’t measure up.

My goal from now on is to not be a competitive mommy.  I’m happy with how well Magnus is doing…and I am doing my best to raise a happy healthy boy.  When the new baby comes I will revel in the delivery (a scheduled c-section) because that’s MY path as a mother.  No matter what path you are on follow it with conviction— it is your path to walk & nobody else could do it just the way you do.

First I should say that I adore celebrating other people’s birthdays.  The excitement of finding the perfect card/gift, thinking of ways to make them feel special, surprising them if possible (though never making them think they’ve been forgotten), good food, laughter…the whole schmear.  I love it (plus if I’m lucky I get to  help organize it. Organizing something like that gives me warm fuzzies) & the look of joy on the recipient’s face makes it worthwhile.

I, on the other hand, am not a fan of the surprise.  I like to know what’s coming.  Add to that a birthday a week before Christmas & being the oldest of 8 and there you have it…my dislike of that day when I was born.

Of course all those are surface reasons.  Over the last several days I’ve had an epiphany of sorts.  I feel guilty about my birthday.  Now I realize that just seems ridiculous but let me dive into the whys & wherefores.

One reason I think I feel guilty about it is that Christmas is a week later.  I feel uncomfortable asking people to spend time celebrating when there is a major holiday looming.  It is such a busy time of year with the holiday parties, gift shopping et cetera.  Plus traditionally there are gifts involved in birthday celebrations.  Being so close to Christmas I feel selfish wanting gifts for both occasions.  On the other hand I also feel slighted when I receive a combo gift (birthday/Christmas) because the two days are separate.  I can’t imagine how someone whose birthday is actually on a major holiday deals with it.

Another reason I feel guilty about my birthday is because I am the oldest of 8 kids.  Growing up we didn’t have a lot of extras though my folks were fantastic about making birthdays, Christmases et cetera special days.  Mom always made our favorite meal & dessert.  Gifts may not always have been extravagant but they were always well thought out & special.  However, I felt like I was asking for more than I really should.  I knew that there were gifts to be purchased for the family since Christmas was right around the corner.  What right did I have to ask for something that I wanted as a birthday gift.

That feeling carries on today.  I don’t want to ask for anything for my birthday…I feel selfish & greedy.  I don’t like to ask people to celebrate with me.  Asking makes me feel like I’m begging for the attention…That if I have to ask people will respond out of obligation rather than the true desire to be with me.  I always hope that someone (or several someones) will ask me if there is anything I want to do for my birthday.  Of course I can’t help but build up my expectations in my head.  Every year I tell myself that I won’t create any expectations for my birthday; that way I won’t be disappointed but instead happily excited by what the day brings.  Every year I fail…I can’t help hoping that something fabulous will happen.  A dinner party, family & friends gathered around for cake (or cheesecake preferably), lots of fun & laughter.  Small tokens of their esteem tied up with brightly colored bows in a cluster in the center of the table.  Then home with Abe for some time just for us.

I woke up this morning & the feeling of anticipation weighed heavily in my stomach…waiting to see what today will bring.  The sun is shining so far & we shall see what this year brings.  I have a date with Abe for 7:30 tonight.  Now if only I had pants that fit….

The Rules

? “The Honest Scrap Award” must be shared!

? The recipient has to tell 10 true things about themselves.

? The recipient has to pass this prestigious award along to 10 more bloggers.

? Those 10 bloggers need to be notified they have received this award.

? Those 10 bloggers should link back to the blog from where they received their award.

1.  I am afraid of heights! I mean terrified, petrified, completely phobic about heights yet I still want to walk to the edge of the cliff & look down.  I guess I’m trying to face my fear but it never seems to help…instead I’m just paralyzed at the edge of a cliff which seems like a bad thing…. 2.  I am also terrified of drowning…needless to say while I love the architecture of bridges crossing them can be my own personal Waterloo.  The Aerial Lift Bridge in Duluth, MN is a classic example…I never get tired of looking at or photographing it.  Crossing it is just plain out of the question…. 3.  I have 2 tattoos.  One on each shoulder.  My first tattoo is a head shot of Betty Boop & I’ve had it for something close to 12 years.  My second tattoo is a grouping of 4 flowers…each represents a grandparent that Hubby & I have lost.  I am anxious to get a 3rd tattoo which will be a representation of my life with Abe.  If I’m lucky I would also like a 4th tattoo designed by Abe…I have to be patient & wait though as Abe has some ink of his own he’d like to have added on.

4.  I am an incurable insomniac.  Even though right now I’m so tired I’m sliding out of my skin I’m typing away on my laptop.  It’s very hard for me to turn my brain off at the end of the day…even lying in bed trying to clear my mind often ends up having the opposite result.  This will lead to me wide awake in the dark listening to Abe softly snore & wondering if I should have worn different shoes with a particular outfit when I was 14.

5.  I am terrible at keeping my own secrets.  Yours I will take to the grave (maybe I’ll tell Abe but you can trust him…he talks a lot less than I do) but mine I blurt out all the time.  I want you to know what I’m getting you for your birthday/anniversary/Christmas etc so that you can be excited too.

6. I am slightly envious (ok, maybe I’m really envious but in a totally good way) of anybody who is an artist.  I wish that I had the talent to paint, draw or sculpt.  Unfortunately I can’t even draw a decent stick figure so I’m out of luck. I do however love the feeling of movement & swirl of emotion I get when looking at someone else’s creation.  It’s a truly intimate thing to share what comes out on canvas or marble (or any other media) with an audience & I applaud those who do it.

7.  Kids….I adore kids.  There are few things I won’t do to earn a smile & laughter from a child.  Nothing in this world is more fleeting & pure than the sound of a child or baby bubbling over with joy.  It melts my heart every time.

8.  Someday I want to own the following: a motorcycle, a horse, a sailboat & a late model Chevy Corvair convertible.  Preferably all at the same time…yes I realize that it’s impractical because where exactly can one own a horse & sailboat and but them both to use?  I have no idea but in my land of make-believe it’s not only possible but mandatory.

9.  I knew (but wouldn’t admit) the first time I saw Abe that I would marry him.  He picked me up at my apartment, walked me to his car & opened my door, holding it until I was in & then closing it for me.  I leaned across to unlock his door & as I did that I knew I wanted to do it for the rest of my life.  How a nice quiet guy like him ever decided to put up with a crazy, insecure girl like me I will never know.

10.  Books…what can I say?  First off I guess I should mention that some people (looking pointedly at Abe) think I read fast.  I don’t know why anybody would come to that conclusion…just because I can read & retain major portions of books of 500+ pages in a 24 hour period does not mean that I read fast.  Seriously, didn’t all of you read the 7th Harry Potter in 18 hours?  Second I should mention that since I have been a rabid, ravenous, rapacious reader since the age of 3.  I vividly remember checking out the complete works of Shakespeare at age 10.  Both the librarian & teacher looked at me as if I were mental…yet I devoured it—enraptured.  I can read a book with a singular focus…blocking out all things around me (including natural disasters, fire drills & screaming in my ear).

I don’t know what I’m doing…which for me is a huge problem.  I always want to know where I’m headed.  I like to have a plan of action, a course to follow, a map to read.  I don’t mind taking detours if I’m not just wandering aimlessly.  It’s the perfectionist (no that doesn’t apply to my housekeeping…I’m a slob when it comes to that, don’t judge me or I’ll point out your spelling & grammar mistakes) in me; the control freak who needs to know what’s coming.  I dislike, no make that loathe, change.  There’s so much going on right now & I’m a mess…I’m talking total disaster!  It’s “call for federal aid, Hurricane (insert name here) has hit” time.  It’s “She can’t take no more Cap’n, she’s starting to break” type stuff….

It’s been nearly 22 months since Abe was last employed.  He’s done odd jobs here & there, taken every dollar of unemployment available, tried to make a go of Black Ash & More, applied for every job between here & Bedlam…problem is there just aren’t jobs.  The few that are out there (and it’s VERY few) mostly don’t even make it feasible for him to drive to work ‘cuz the pay is so low & the number of miles too great.  Of course I can already hear the “you should move” comments.  If only it were just that simple…

We don’t have the finances to move…without going into that whole matter let’s just say that coming up with 2+ months rent isn’t going to happen.  We’ve cleaned out the retirement accounts ages ago, our savings is gone…our credit….well we won’t go there either.  Anything positive we had going came to a screeching halt 2 years ago & we’re sinking now.  Not to mention the logistics….

Of course there are benefits…Abe can get a good job again.  It’ll mean a lot to him & I will do anything to support him.  Moving to the location we are considering would put us closer to his brother in Missouri & a lot closer to my family all of whom I do miss.  Yet we’ll be further from his dad, his brother & wife and their boys up here.  We won’t be that stone’s throw from the North Shore & all the places we’ve grown to love.  The places that refresh my spirit & inspire my soul…the places I’m proud to know & to which I want to play travel guide for visiting friends.  Will I ever visit again & feel the wonder that sinks deep into the core of me?  I don’t know…right now everything is clouded.  I’m not good with change…even when I want to make it.  Right now I don’t want to make a change even though my logic tells me that it is what I must do.

I’m afraid….afraid that I’m never going to feel like me, that the people I care for & consider to be my close friends will decide that I’m too much work (I know, I know…my real friends won’t do that…doesn’t make the fear any less real), I’m afraid of losing myself.