Do you know about - The Long Journey Home
Anesthesia School! Again, for I know. Ready to share new things that are useful. You and your friends.Once upon a time, I conception I had it all. I had a child, a career, the world at my feet. Or, so I thought.
What I said. It is not outcome that the actual about Anesthesia School. You check this out article for information on an individual want to know is Anesthesia School.How is The Long Journey Home
With the birth of my second son, my whole world changed. I moved into a new home, got a new car, made new friends. The biggest change, though, was internal. Suddenly, my head started listening to my heart a puny more. My occupation and absorbing up in the corporate world suddenly became something I Had to do, because I needed to pay the bills. Suddenly, I wanted what other citizen had. I wanted to stay home with my kids and take care of my family.
Wait a minute, who was this level from 1950 woman taking over my brain? Was it post-partum insanity or had person mysteriously slipped me some sort of anti-feminist drug? I was raised to believe that I was Equal to every man, in fact, maybe even a puny better. I believed that I should not take care of a man, in fact; maybe he should be taking care of me. How dare anything ask me to put my occupation on hold to raise children? I believed that my occupation should be celebrated in my life, that I could and should Have It All. I was inevitable that I could have my cake and eat it with a golden fork. And for six years, I conception I did.
I gave birth to my first son at the ripe old age of 22. He was the most gorgeous thing I had ever had the privilege to lay my eyes on, but the actual birth feel was the most horrific thing I'd ever experienced. After 23 hours of induced labor, this boy came screaming into the world via a Cesarean section Without anesthesia. That's right, surgical operation without anesthesia. Somehow the anesthesiologist had messed up, and the epidural had been pulled out of my back sometime before surgery. Talk about pain. Oh, and let me tell you, when they say you forget that pain, they Lie! I still remember every excruciating moment, practically 8 years later.
This traumatic feel produced the first genuine love in my life, my lovely Cameron. He has been a true joy and a real challenge since the day he was born. I often tell citizen about the first night he was home. Unbeknownst to me at the time, he had a pretty severe case of colic. I conception something was seriously wrong, because all he'd done since birth was scream, nurse, and sleep in 20 puny increments. I hadn't slept for beyond doubt a week. While my husband snored peacefully in the next room, I held this beautiful, screaming thing in front of me, staring at his pinched face, watching as his puny legs kicked at the air. I cried with him, I screamed with him, and God help me, I knew at that occasion why parents shook their babies. Thank the same God for all of those commercials about shaken baby syndrome, because in that occasion of insanity, I believe it's the only thing that saved my son. I truly believed at that occasion that if I just shook him a little, it might quiet the inconsolable screams.
Instead, I put my son down in his bassinet and walked out onto our balcony, taking deep breaths and trying to convince myself that I deserved a child, that I was not the worst mother in the world, that God did not make a mistake giving me this gift.
Cameron and I made it straight through that first night. Later that year, we made it straight through the divorce and divorce from his father. Then we made it straight through some years of single motherhood with no child maintain and no daddy visiting. It was a difficult and painful time, but it gave me the kind of compel that nothing else could. Being a stay at home mom was clearly never an selection at that time, since I was the sole maintain for our puny family of two.
When my ex-husband dropped out of Cameron's life before he was 2, I just stopped talking about him for a long time. Then, one day, my baby looked into my face and asked me where his daddy was. He said that every person at his pre-school had daddies, and he wanted to know why he didn't. I hoped this occasion would never come. I didn't beyond doubt know what to say to a three year old to construe why he didn't have a daddy, so I just explained that there were separate kinds of families. Some, I told him, might have just a mommy, but others might have just a daddy or some grandparents. He somewhat approved this idea, so I spoke to his pre-school to make sure that they were discussing these separate types of families.
Later, Cameron and I went to counseling as the questions continued and my answers just didn't satisfy him any more. This was when things became especially difficult, because the consultant told me that I needed to tell Cameron "The Truth" of what had happened, or at least as much as the then 4 year old child could understand. I should tell him that his father and I were once very much in love and married, and that we had Cameron out of that love. I was to then say that his father had some personal problems and needed to be away from the family and that even though he had every right to come and visit his son, he Chose not to do that.
This, of course, was wholly separate from all I had ever said about his father. I never said anything negative or even remotely identifying about his father. So, for awhile, I resisted telling him "The Truth". I conception that it would hurt him more than help.
Finally, Cameron began development up stories about his "dad", saying he'd go visit on the weekends or that he might go stay there for the summer. The pre-school, knowing our situation, brought this to my attention. I figured it was normal for kids in our situation to do this, but I knew it was time to tell him what beyond doubt happened. Our consultant encouraged me, saying that telling him would help him to understand that he and I were not at fault and that I would always be there for him.
So, one night, as we lay nose to nose in my bed, I told Cameron about his father, just as the consultant had instructed me. He asked why his dad didn't want to see him and I had to tell him that I didn't know, but that he was missing out on the best kid in the world. He asked if it was his fault and I told him that of procedure it was not, that his dad had problems and didn't know what a astonishing boy he was missing.
Then we cried together. I held my baby and wiped away his tears as he wept for the father he couldn't even remember.
And, we made it straight through that night, stronger than ever.
A few months later, I met Bill, who would later become my husband. He and Cameron took to each other immediately, and one day, Cameron asked Bill to be his Dad. Bill happily accepted, and they've been father and son ever since.
A incorporate of years ago, I learned that Cameron would soon have a new baby brother. Since we only had a two bedroom home at the time, we bought a new, bigger home to accommodate our new, bigger family. Our new neighborhood welcomed us with open arms. There were plenty of kids to play with and plenty of parents for Bill and me to socialize with.
I met my friend Lori a incorporate of months before our baby was born. Lori was a stay at home mom who lived over the street. We became fast friends, and when I went on maternity leave about three weeks before the baby was born, she was over practically daily. It was like we'd known each other forever.
Even though I liked Lori right off the bat, as I listened to her talk about being a stay at home mom, I conception her viewpoint was a puny off. I even felt a puny sorry for her, having such "outdated" ideas and all. Still, I believe that it's leading to respect other peoples' opinions and choices, so I tried to understand.
Since my mom was raised during women's lib, I was taught that women worked, just like men. Men and women were not to be put in "stereotypical" roles. Therefore, whenever I felt that person was trying to put me in such a role, I would be offended.
When our second son, the gorgeous Noah, was born, all changed. Noah was separate than his brother. First, he had trouble studying to nurse. Cameron had latched on immediately. Noah took practically a week to get it. It felt like months, and I spent some hours crying on the phone with La Leche League counselors. When he finally got it, though, he became quite dedicated to it. Noah's puny personality was quite the opposite of Cameron's too. He was very laid back and only complained if he was wet, hungry, or tired. Now, this may sound normal to most people, but after having Cameron, the baby who could rarely be comforted, being able to "fix" the crying by changing, feeding, or rocking him to sleep was quite a luxury.
During my maternity leave, I found a website, flylady.net, which, along with my friend Lori, changed my perception of being a stay at home mom. Then, I read "Woman Power" by Dr. Laura Schlesinger. This book, although it has a misleading title, discusses the true power of women in families and relationships. It discusses the original roles of husbands and wives and why they might not be so bad. This was quite an eye-opener for me, and I extremely propose it to anything in a relationship.
Suddenly, I realized that "staying home" with your kids and taking care of your family and home was Not "not working". It was "working at home". Working for your family. What a light bulb moment! Taking care of one's home was, in fact, blessing one's family. It was a extra and astonishing thing I could do for them. So, as soon as I was physically able, I started taking care of my home and family the way I conception they deserved. The change in attitudes was practically immediate. For the rest of my maternity leave, evening meal was on the table each night at 6, the house was in order, and the laundry was done. The kids and my husband received loving care and concentration daily. It was wonderful.
I dreaded returning to work, but I didn't have a selection at that time. Bill had a decent job, but we couldn't afford to live on just his salary. The first incorporate of weeks I was back, I tried to keep up the house and put evening meal in the crock pot practically every night so that we could still eat at a decent hour. I was up late into each night cleaning and establishment for the next day, not to mention that my darling baby son wasn't quite sleeping straight through the night yet.
Eventually, my habits slipped back into my usual work mode--eating out some nights a week, cleaning only on weekends, rushing nearby trying to "have it all", the usual. Bill and I discussed my becoming a stay at home mom, and agreed that although we both wanted it, we couldn't afford it yet.
A few months later, Bill got a new job development beyond doubt twice as much as he'd made before. What a blessing! Life got a puny easier as our financial state was much more comfortable. Still, I did not feel that I could quit my job. I felt tied to it and feared what could happen if I took the opening and left.
I worked 40 hours a week in the office, and many nights and weekends I brought work home with me. I felt like my work was taking over my life, and as any working mother knows, sometimes it feels like you practically have to do twice as much work as other citizen to prove that you are worth retention around. I got a promotion and was promised more if I could keep up. I missed my kids, but having a strong work ethic, I kept up as well as I could. Every day, I secretly prayed that we would find a way to bring me home. Bill and I kept trying to shape out a way and kept seeing reasons that I needed to keep working.
One day, I was called into the office and fired. I still don't know exactly why, but I know this much: all Happens For A Reason! I believe that God knew that I would never take that leap of faith and leave my job, unless I was forced to do so.
Since I was fired, Bill and I decided that it was time for me to try staying home. So, I'm home. And, may I say, Loving It!! Once again, my family has a comfortable home, clean laundry, good home-cooked meals every night, and my children are being raised by none other than their very own mother!
Sure, finances are a puny tighter than they were, but considering that we are no longer paying for daycare or after school care, gas and lunches and work clothes for me, it's not quite as tight as you might think. We are doing just fine. I only wish that I'd had the courage to take the opening earlier.
It is astonishing how one's experiences can change her very core beliefs and values. My personal experiences changed me from a driven, occupation minded, woman who tried to have it all, to a driven, stay at home mom and writer who has all she wants or needs. I have my loving, well taken care of family and home, time to write, and great friends. What more could a woman ask for?
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