Five Years Later (A birth story)

Every mom has a birth story. A story that is filled with awe, wonder, and lots of love. The truth is, that some birth stories are not always movie worthy or worth repeating. Having been on both ends, the laborer and the supporter when my first nephew was born, I have many stories of birth.

Avery’s birth was a difficult one. She was already past her due date, and we were already cautious with the her heart rate with every contraction I had. For reasons we did not know at the time, her heart rate would drop after every contraction.

After a few hours in the hospital I decided to try the cheating way and get an epidural. The other two babies before I had natural. I was in my early twenties so I was naive and didn’t know better. After watching my sister deliver her first born with her epidural, can you believe that little brat was talking on the phone and saying, “Oh look… I’m having a contraction right now,” with the biggest smirk on her face. How stupid was I to go through all that pain?

Needless to say, the epidural did not work. It worked for maybe an hour. Then there was something called a “hot spot” on my lower left abdomen. It was a perfect circle. With each contraction the hot spot grew. They pumped my I.V. with more medicine to numb the area, and with just my luck, nothing happened except that my legs were numb and I was feeling every contraction. Oh, I forgot to mention, that Avery was not dropping either. That means even though I was dilating, her head was still not in position for delivery. So after artificially breaking my water, they decided to pump me with more water to encourage her to drop.

All that I could do was listen to this classical music Dan was playing for me and breathe through the pain. Then after a very strong ass contraction, and I was finally dilated to 10 cm., Avery’s heart rate dropped to an uncomfortable rate. I could see in Dan’s face something wasn’t right.

The Doctor looked at me and said, “We are going to have to perform a c-section.” So they gave me more drugs to stop the contractions, and gave me a bunch of paper work to sign. They placed that funny looking cap on me and made me drink some god awful syrup to make sure I don’t vomit while I am under. Since my epidural failed, I would have to go through the c-section completely under and without Dan by side.

They made him pack up our stuff and lead him to another room and they wheeled me in the O.R. and I waited. Then when it was time, they gave me the anesthesia and everything went black.

With all the details above, this is not where the birth story ends. I believe that every mom dreams about her birth story. In fact, now a days, we create birth plans. Plans that will help mothers have safe, healthy and memorable birth stories. Dan and I definitely had one, however, it did not prepare us for what happened.

See, while I was still under, Avery was taken from my womb and wrapped up to give to Daddy. I missed her first cry. I missed Dan’s face when he first met her. While carrying this child for nine months, and not only did I carry her, I was incredibly HUGE! All I could dream about was that day, the day she met her mommy and daddy together.

When I came to, I was shaking uncontrollably. I saw Dan holding Avery. No matter how much I tried, I just couldn’t control the shaking.

Even with all that said, it still does not end there. No. What followed after that day, was nothing but hurt and pain. I was already disappointed with the c-section and then discovered that her Grandma was able to meet her while I was still under. This event caused a huge rift between us. I am not going to put blame on anyone, it just happened, and it hurt me.

It took two hard years to work through it. Mostly because communicating honestly and openly was something I couldn’t do at the time. Turns out I was going through Post-Partum Depression so I was a huge ball of fucked up.

So we are celebrating Avery’s fifth birthday tomorrow, and although we have come along way, and I am so happy that Avery and her Grandma have a wonderful relationship now, one that warms my heart and brings us all joy. Unfortunately, it is also the reason why her Uncle, Dan’s brother, continues to alienate us. It has been five years since we all talked. Five years and Avery does not know her uncle. It pains us all, but we cannot control anyone and we cannot change the past.

So tonight I write this little blog to finally accept what is. To let go of the hope that a perfect family exists. So tomorrow we will light the candles on her unicorn cake and she will make her little wish and we will smile, laugh and enjoy the moment even though there will be an empty chair at the table.

Life goes on my friends and even though our stories don’t go as plan, and sometimes our story just fucking sucks, but it is so important to let go of what cannot be changed and embrace the life that is.

Happy Birthday my little princess!

Love Always

Happy 40 Years Sister

Jo aka Fina,

Can you believe that I have known you your entire life? 40 years of hanging out and experiencing life’s biggest milestones- we sure did have a good time when we were little! Even though I tried to stuff bread down your throat because I wasn’t sure why you wouldn’t leave! The forts at the back of the house, the dancing in the garage, smoking toilet paper in our Grandparent’s bathroom. And don’t forget that I always knew how you lost your two front teeth, perhaps that was Karma’s way of getting back at you for destroying two perfectly good twinkies on our Grandma’s living room floor!

Then we started to grow up. How the hell did we survive sharing a room AND a bathroom without killing each other!?! Remember the masking tape we placed in the middle of room? Actually, you used masking tape for every, fucking, thing!  What’s so cool about growing up with you is the secrets I have about you. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone how you use to save the SAME piece of gum on your headboard for at least a week straight. No, I won’t mention to a soul how you cut your own bangs because, well why not? Your secrets are safe with me!

Then we started celebrating more grown up milestones- When you graduated from high school, and soon after experienced your first heart break. When you walked down the aisle (the first time) only to have your heart break into pieces with two little angels that you will meet one day. I remember the day you trusted me with the news that you knew, deep down inside that you wanted something different for yourself. Then a few years later, I got to witness you become a Mom for the first time. I’m not sure who cried more, you or me. It was definitely a moment that I will cherish.  Then one sunny day, at a soccer game, you introduced me to your soulmate as your “friend” and we all knew better! The day you married him, I saw the smile on your face, and I knew that your heart was slowly and surely becoming whole again. Now you have four crazy kids and house that you have made into home.  You may not know this, but your strength gave me strength to go after my dreams.

Now here we are! 40 years later- another milestone- and you are still kicking ass and I can’t think of a better “twinkie” to have spent my life with.  Just so everyone knows… that on September 23, 1979, the world gained a beautiful soul!

Welcome to your Forties bitch, it’s going to be a wild ride!!

Love Always and Your Sister Always,

Roxanne

A Late Start

Today I am 41 years old. I woke up, poured myself some coffee, sat in my favorite chair and read my morning devotionals. Now that it is summer break I don’t have to rush through it, instead I can sit quietly and just soak it all in.

One of the habits I am starting to form is to be grateful- to count my blessings. I sat in my chair and realized that I have been in this house for five years now. As that may sound like a little thing, it is a big deal for me. Since I was 20 I had moved every year or every other year until I married Dan. I shuffled around trying to find a better place, a cheaper place or to simply, get away.

I know some people move a lot because they have to, I moved around a lot because my life was such a mess. Now that I have been in this place for a few years, and plan to for a long time, I finally feel I at home.

It’s easy to start thinking stuff like, “If only I had this when I was younger.” Or, “If I had started doing this stuff in my twenties, imagine where I would be today!” It’s easy to put certain mile stones and attach them to our age. Then we start to fear that we are missing out, or not having a FULL abundant life, because we haven’t done this or that at a certain age. Such Hogwash!!

Back in January, I accomplished something huge- I ran 26.2 miles. I was 40. I had wanted to run a marathon for YEARS, but I just did not have the time to train.

There were over 10,000 runners for the Houston Marathon, and so the organizers placed us in corrals according to pace. I was placed in corral B. By the time I got there, after using the bathroom, checking in my gear, it was shut down. I had to walk to corral C. By the miracle of the Running Gods, I found my bestie Alma- we separated as she was placed in corral C.

We were surrounded by a crowd. I mean completely surrounded. We were standing on the sidewalk waiting to enter the corral. The race started at 7:00 A.M. and sure enough it started right on time. Slowly we marched like the penguins in “March of the Penguins” trying to reach our destination.

Then we hear, “Corral C is closed!” Suddenly I can feel the people around me wanting to rush to corral D I thought this was how I was going to die! Trampled by runners before I could run my debut marathon.

By the time we were able to reach corral D it was 7:30ish. The crowd still surrounding us as we slowly and inch by inch get closer to the start.

When I finally see the start line, I take a deep breath and begin to psych myself up. By the time I was able to pass the start line, it was 7:50ish. It took almost an entire hour for us to start the race.

Luckily with our technology, my time does not start recording until I cross that start line, so even though it took an hour for me to get there, my time was not effected. I still ran 26.2 miles even though I had a late start.

You probably see where I am going with this. We’ve heard it many times before, “It’s never too late to start, to plan, to accomplish.” Life throws stuff at us, and sometimes we do stuff that results in us having to put stuff on hold, or to wait a little longer for whatever it is we want. I don’t know why society puts pressure on us, or if we put it on ourselves, that we have to marry at a certain age, buy a house, and have kids- in that order too- or we are missing out or life isn’t as meaningful.

The truth is that life isn’t rigid like that. Life isn’t a straight line from start to finish. It’s thinking and believing that life is SUPPOSE to be a certain way that makes us feel bad, not how our lives truly are.

So where ever you find yourself today, be thankful. Let go of the messages that say your life isn’t meaningful because you haven’t done this or that yet. It is NEVER too late to start. Run your own race!

Love Always!

Happy Birthday to Me!!

Just Another Birthday

Birthday Cake. Blowing out the candles. Making wishes. Fancy dresses and funny hats. Balloons and silly games.

Remember when we were younger, how excited we were to be celebrating our birthday?

Then as we got older birthdays became meh.  “Just another birthday” we mutter, and every year we wince in a bit of pain as the years start to accumulate.

This month is a big number for me.  40!

As much as I want to cringe and complain about getting older, (maybe just a little) I am actually excited.

It took me 40 years to be where I am today. 40 years to learn the values of my life.

You see, this birthday is not just another birthday- at least not to me- it is a mark of success- a hope of great abundance yet to come- a symbol that love does overcome.

You see, I wasn’t born privileged.  I was born to a couple, not yet married, no money, no education, no home.

In fact, my dad was an alcoholic.

You have to understand, that this is not uncommon in our little town. Drinking, drugs, unplanned pregnancies.

The first five years of my life I watched my dad get drunk and high. 

There are some things in life that are hard to talk about. At least in your mind you feel that they are hard to talk about because of the fear of shame, invalidation, or worse indifference.  Then courage begins to surge and you know you have to talk about it because it’s the only way to light the path.

You could say that I didn’t have a very good start in life. I’m not saying this to blame my dad- he did the best he could. In fact when the drugs became too much- he quit when I was 6 years old.   If I don’t say anything else about my dad- he was able to stay sober ever since. 35 years of sobriety- quit cold turkey and never looked back. It sure says a lot about his will power and convictions doesn’t it?

Life is hard and unfair to begin with- so when you mix in addictions, poverty, and dysfunction life can feel hopeless. And when hopelessness is the norm, you can bet there is a lot of resentment and anger.

You see, even though my dad was able to stay away from the bottle, he had a bit of a temper and used his hobby of building and restoring old cars as his new drug of choice.

The anger that stormed inside my dad manifested itself in abuse.

His go to put-downs to my mom, my sisters and myself were, “stupid, worthless and lazy.” I was 14 years old when I got my first real job- it was a program called “Summer Youth Program” for low income families. Children were able to find work at the ripe ol’ age of 14 to work during the summer. I got a job at our local hospital filing old papers in a hot room with no windows, and no air conditioning. My dad drove me on my first day  and do you know what was said to me? “I don’t even know how you got this stupid job you’re so damn lazy!”  Needless to say, I didn’t perform very well at the job.  So I grew up feeling unseen, unheard and unwanted. As a little girl who desired to be cherished, I internalized these words and grew up believing I was stupid, worthless and a burden.

I hit the re-play button for many years. Over and over again I heard in my head “you’re stupid,” “You’re not good enough,” “People don’t like you.”   I constantly apologized. Apologizing for taking up space. Always apologizing.

I had a lot of fear in me.

In my search and desperation for love and acceptance I followed a pattern:

~I was married at 19 and divorced six months later. I didn’t want to get married at 19- but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
~At 21 I had my first baby- with a guy I hardly knew. I didn’t want to have sex yet, but I wanted him to like me.

~We had our second child when I was 24.
~We married. More of the same- addictions and abuse.
~We tried so hard to make it work.

You see, I was the type of person that thought I was being unselfish and caring to give the other person what they wanted, regardless if it didn’t match my needs or wants. I wanted to be the exact opposite of my dad. Yeah, that didn’t work out so well.

I am a recovering co-dependent.

Believe it or not, there are support groups for that!

Imagine- sitting in a basement of a church saying, “Hi, I’m Roxanne and I’m co-dependent.”  Yes, that happened. I worked the 12 steps. And in working those 12 steps I found God- or God found me.

I had a sponsor and everything. She was very wise and a little nuts. She helped me see the truth of who I was. Turns out I was better at abusing myself than the other people in my life.

I also went to therapy, read a ton of books to help me learn and understand co-dependency- I was determined (and still am) to conquer this flaw in me.

In working those 12 steps I had to forgive my dad. I did.

It took years to understand what forgiveness meant and why it was important in my recovery- and even though I wish my dad and I had a better relationship, I know what happened all those years ago was not my fault. I also learned that even though my dad hurt me, and our family, I know that he loves us.  See, my dad was playing the same game that was taught to him. Addictions have a way of doing that–The same game played with different players as each generation steps up to the plate.

Lucky for me, there were angels in my life that were able to light the path for me and my sisters- people who showed us that there was hope, joy and that life is actually fun and meaningful.

I am forever grateful for my extended family- they brought fun, joy, and showed me and my sisters acceptance. The biggest lesson I learned in the last forty years is that although our families may be broken, dysfunctional, and maybe a little crazy, family is the most important aspect of our life. Every pleasure and pain in our life will be experienced in the context of our relationships. We may fight with our family, we may not even like them that much, but they are our roots, our bridge, our pathway to discovering who we are in this big mass of mess we call home. Family teaches us humility, forgiveness, compassion and what love really means.

I’m turning 40, and I couldn’t be more excited. The next 40 plus years are not going to be wasted by fighting wrinkles and grey hair , or sagging skin and trying to look 20 years old again (maybe a little).  The battles I choose to fight are not physical at all. I choose to fight for me- to fight those demonizing voices. To fight for my family. In my opinion, the best thing anyone can do in their life is to forgive.  Forgive your parents. Forgive your siblings. Forgive the Universe. Forgive yourself.

The next 40 some years is something I want to enrich with adventures with those I care and love about.

Cheers to 40!

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If you are interested in some of the books that helped in my journey, click on the links below. (Amazon is supporting my blog if you just click the links and make a purchase from the site). I appreciate your support!

Love Always

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//ws-na.amazon-adsystem.com/widgets/q?ServiceVersion=20070822&OneJS=1&Operation=GetAdHtml&MarketPlace=US&source=ac&ref=tf_til&ad_type=product_link&tracking_id=roxyjaecks-20&marketplace=amazon&region=US&placement=0981501788&asins=0981501788&linkId=5a43b01f1f2bcd01537dbe00fc8bf301&show_border=true&link_opens_in_new_window=true&price_color=333333&title_color=0066c0&bg_color=ffffff” target=”_blank” rel=”noopener”>Al-Anon The Twelve Steps and How it Works

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//ws-na.amazon-adsystem.com/widgets/q?ServiceVersion=20070822&OneJS=1&Operation=GetAdHtml&MarketPlace=US&source=ac&ref=tf_til&ad_type=product_link&tracking_id=roxyjaecks-20&marketplace=amazon&region=US&placement=159285849X&asins=159285849X&linkId=f874d054be7f23341fd9b5c1e4ec1cc9&show_border=true&link_opens_in_new_window=true&price_color=333333&title_color=0066c0&bg_color=ffffff” target=”_blank” rel=”noopener”>The Gift of Imperfections

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Self-Help Books

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