The burial took place in the little village by the little adobe church. The sun peeked behind grey clouds surrounded by the grey sky looking down upon the grey ground. The cross on the top of the church still gleamed. The family surrounded the homemade coffin made of pinon tree. The priest gave the blessing and handed the blessed crucifix to Mama who was still crying. Ofelia and the other siblings placed a special object on top of the coffin. Ofelia chose a toy truck. They use to play together on their free time with that little blue truck, pretending to drive to town and buy as much candy as they wanted.
Papa and the other men began to fill the hole with their shovels when the coffin was lowered deep in the ground. Soon, the entire coffin was covered with rich desert dirt. And now the only reminder of little Juanito was a big lump of dirt, a cross head stone, and some flowers. Everyone comforting each other that Juanito had gone to a better place.
Ofelia cried herself to sleep that night wondering if her heart would ever heal from the pain of her family’s grief. To think that she would experience many more heart aches as her journey continues, as this was only the beginning.
Living without Juanito left the family empty. Papa would not talk about him, and he seemed to drink a little more beer than usual. Mama seemed a little less herself, a little more serious, a little more protective.
Down the road Polo, the baby of the family, spots someone walking down the road. It was Tia Maria. “Mama!! Tia Maria! She is here!” yelled Polo. ,
Mama greeted her at the door. “Maria! It is good to see you!” They embraced for a bit.
“Hola Eolojia! Come estas?” asked Maria.
“Oye, muy triste…so depressed. It’s been a hard few weeks,” as tears welled up in her eyes.
“Si, well I am here now.” They walked towards the kitchen.
For dinner Mama and Tia Maria made a huge dinner for everyone. Papa butchered a lamb and Tia Maria brought fresh oranges and baked a chocolate cake, Mama baked rolls and churned homemade butter.
As the family sat to eat, everything started to feel better, and hope began to grow. They talked and exchanged stories, and the kids running around with laughter once again.
That’s right! Running sucks– because it is hard. So why on earth would anyone want to do it? For starters runners have cute butts. Who doesn’t want an ass you can bounce a quarter off? 🙂
In all seriousness, building endurance and stamina takes time. Not every run is going to go smooth, in fact most runs are challenging and incorporate some kind of pain. This is what separates the tough from the lazy. If you ask any great athlete, it takes months and years to master a skill. To get better at running, therefore, is to go out and run. Before running my marathons, I was running half marathons, and before running half marathons I was running 10Ks, and before running 10Ks I was running 5Ks… you get the point. So technically it has taken me five years to build up my endurance for the 26.2 miles.
You see, after making the decision to start running or to improve your running performance, it’s going to suck. This is because you will experience some kind of pain, some kind of set back, and it probably won’t feel good the first few times you go out. But when your body finally starts to transform and you are taken away by the euphoria of what is known as the runner’s high- all the pain is soon worth it. And let me tell you, it is definitely worth it.
Now, if the pain scares you, be encouraged, you are stronger than you think you are, and sometimes you will have to FORCE yourself to keep going. This is why running is so dependent on mentality.
Running is 90% mental- 10% perseverance. The physical part follows the path of your mentality and your perseverance. Most people have the opposite in mind. They follow the physical and let that lead their mentality which shortens or kills any potential of gaining the price.
There is something about pain during exercise/running that tells people to STOP; however, when we listen to that voice, we prevent ourselves from true transformation. It is IN the pain that trains your body to run further, faster and to transform your body.
So today’s tip– ALWAYS work through the pain. Go that extra second, minute, rep, whatever it is. Push yourself beyond your limits and you will succeed.
Of course don’t be stupid and work yourself to an injury- that is why recovery is so important. So stay tuned for the next post about the importance of rest.
I have ran and finished two marathons. My first marathon I finished with a time of 5 hours 10 minutes. My second marathon I finished with a time of 4 hours and 29 minutes. It’s not that impressive when compared to elite runners who can run it in 2 -3 hours, however, the fact that I can run for 26.2 miles is impressive and so I’d like to share to those of you who are entertaining the thought about running.
I remember a few years ago when I thought I would never be one of “those” people– the 26.2 sticker on the back window of their car. The people who get up at o’dark o’clock to squeeze in some miles. The people who seem to check the weather constantly in hopes that by some miracle the weather will change to ideal conditions to help with a PR (Personal Record). Yup, even running has its own acronyms and language. Soon, you will be talking about pacing, sub (place number of miles here), splits, hitting the wall and so forth. The running community is definitely a different kinda world, but don’t let it intimidate you and don’t write it off just yet.
What I love about running is that there are no concrete rules to follow. You pretty much make it what you want. You want to run 1 mile, great! Want to walk/run for twenty minutes, awesome! The best part about this sport, is that you compete with yourself, not necessarily other runners. It doesn’t matter at all what place you get in a race. IT DOESN’T MATTER! What does matter? Finishing the race. Beating your time from the last one, if that is your goal. You never see a Facebook post saying, “I came in 3,921st!”
I could go on and on why running is the best sport/ exercise there is, but what I really want is for you to realize that it doesn’t matter how athletic you are, what your fitness level is, or if you are an athlete, running makes your life better!
I was first introduced to running by my uncle. There was something fascinating about racing. I joined the track team in middle school and then high school. I mostly ran sprints, specifically the hurdles in track and field. I joined Cross Country my freshman year. It wasn’t my favorite sport, but I ran to help with my track career. Distance was something I didn’t think I could do very well.
I wanted to run track in college but instead I got married, then divorced, re-married had two kids, divorced again, re-married had another baby. Needless to say running was put on the back burner for the next few years.
Running was something I did when I had a chance, in order to get a work out in, or to help me shed a few extra pounds gained from all the IPAs I loved. I would sign up for races like the Chips and Salsa, Duke City, but I would only run the 5Ks (3.1 miles), because anything longer than that seemed impossible.
NINE MARATHONS!!
I remember being in awe when I would hear of others finishing their marathons. My very dear and best friend completed 9 marathons, along with half marathons, batton marches and bike races! This is where the proximity principle comes in handy. When you start to hang out with people accomplishing big goals, you start to get influenced. This is why joining running groups is so important. I prefer running alone, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be a part of groups for accountability and once in a while I will run with a friend. So if you are thinking about embarking on your own journey, find someone who inspires you with their own track record and ask them questions, join a running group, or log on to google and start searching. There are tons of resources out there, but the best ones, in my opinion, are the people around you.
It wasn’t until after the birth of my third child that I started thinking seriously about running. I signed up for 10Ks (6.2 miles) instead of 5ks. One year at the Chips and Salsa race, I placed 1st in my age group for the 10K and something inside me whispered that maybe I could run a half marathon (13.2 miles).
When talking with other runners, they would tell me, “If you can run 6 miles you can run 13.” They added, “What you run in your training, you can double during a race.” I wasn’t too sure about that advice, since there is a huge difference from 3 miles to 6 miles to the scary 13 miles, in my opinion.
So I signed up for my first half marathon at the Duke City Marathon back in 2017. I had no idea what to expect, how to train and what I needed to do with my nutrition to support my training. So I asked my runner friends about training, read articles from Runner’s World, joined Facebook running groups. My goal was anything faster than 2 hours. Sure enough I ran a 1:58 for my first half marathon. After that, I have not been able to PR the next few half marathons I ran. I am not sure why, the only thing that changed was my diet. Back then I was eating Isagenix and using their supplements and stopped for a bit, so needless to say, I started on their program again, and I don’t regret the extra few dollars I spend for it.
First Half Marathon
So here I am two marathons later, and have several people asking me what the secret is. So I have decided to write a series of posts to share some of the experiences if you are at all interested in joining the dark side.
The first step- BELIEVE.
Before you buy those cute running shoes, and turn on your play list for that first run, you need to check your attitude. Just like you need fuel before you start your vehicle and head down the road, you need to fill your mind with positive beliefs. If you HATE running then you are probably not going to go very far. If you had bad experiences with running, then you are probably going to avoid it. If you think you just don’t have the stamina or endurance, then you are right.
You have to change your mindset about running.
You have to believe that you can run. Believe that you can run fast. Believe that you can run far. Believe that you can cross that finish line! Once you make that decision to believe in yourself and run, you will begin a love/ hate relationship that will benefit you in ways you can’t even imagine. Not to mention that you will surround yourself with a community that kicks ass.
2010- Divorced. It was not easy for anyone. Restraining orders, court hearings, custody issues etc...
My first house as a single mom
2011- Accepted in the CDP (Career Development Program) at UNM to become teacher. Only 17 were accepted. I was torn with the decision to attend the CDP program or find an accounting job. I have a degree in Accounting. I knew that the accounting job would give me a salary quickly, and since becoming a single mom I needed the money. I also knew that I was being called to teach. It was a risk in a lot of ways, but I had to answer the call. So we lived off of student loans while I finished school. Finding a teaching job was difficult after graduation. Even though my first gig was a 5th grade class, it was definitely my worst year. Since I was considered a short hire, I was not re-hired for the job. I was relieved and scared at the same time, since I desperately needed a job. So when I dropped off my 6th grader at her new middle school- I thought what the heck- I applied, got an interview and wasn’t hired until two days before school started, and not for the position I applied for. Instead I found myself teaching 6th Grade Gifted Language Arts.
Master’s Degree in Elementary Education
2012- First year as a middle school teacher. I found my place! Got my endorsement in Gifted Education and Language Arts so I could stay. And right before the year ends, I meet Dan through his brother who I worked with at that middle school.
Always smiling and laughing
2013- Engaged at Disney World. Dan turns 40. I move in with Dan, and once again at the end of the year- pregnant!
The sign says it all
2014- Transfer to Desert Ridge Middle School, the best middle school in the state! Got married. A short and sweet ceremony at Dan’s parents back yard. Avery is born.
She said yes…8lbs 8oz
2015- Postpartum Depression hits me hard. Lots of fighting, crying and isolation. I really don’t remember anything else that year. Dan gets a new job at Albuquerque Public Schools Education Foundation.
2016- Medication and therapy help me and I see the light. Slowly reconnect with people. Dan gets a new job at Big Brothers Big Sisters in Santa Fe.
Silliness is our game
2017- My oldest graduates high school. Mother daughter trip to Belize. Then she goes away to college, lots of tears. Dan gets a new job with Casa Esperanza.
Grew up too fastSnooba 🙂
2018- Loving life and making new friends. Dan loses his job at Casa. I turn 40. I start taking my running to new distances.
First half marathon
2019- Ran my first marathon. Go me! Dan starts delivering pizzas for Dominoes. Go Dan! I start a running camp. Dan starts a new gig at Walmart, and then finally settles into ADC.
What a decade it has been!
2020- What I know for sure in 2020 is that Kevin will graduate from High School, and then he will be off on his own adventure. I also know that the predictable life I have created, and proudly so, will continue to be predictable in my everyday ordinary life.
I know it’s tempting to expect and hope for all the best in 2020, but if I learned anything these ten years, is that life will always throw surprises. Good and bad. It’s tempting to chant, “2020 is gonna be our year!” And though my heart believes it, I have to say that last few years have made us who we are. Dan and I have been there for each other in our worst and our best. 2020 is not going to be any different than all the years past. It’s another trip around the sun and transmissions will break, water heaters will leak, heaters will stop throwing heat, cancer will continue to threaten and steal our loved ones, relationships will grow, or grow a part, new jobs and opportunities will arise and sometimes they demise. Much like the magic of Christmas, New Years brings on a euphoric sense of newness and second chances. We all want a smooth ride. Truth be told, it’s too boring when there are no challenges to overcome. Challenges shapes our character and delivers compassion to our hearts.
2019 taught me that while you are waiting for your life to get better, it’s time for YOU to get better.
Challenges are not meant to break you, they are meant for you to find and have a purpose in your life. 2019 taught me that I can’t expect life to be perfect- because it never will be. So instead of expecting 2020 to be a perfect year, I expect it to be a year of purpose.
Six years ago on a cold New Mexico winter, my life changed. All it took was a simple hello, a hand shake, and a conversation that continues everyday, every evening, and every night for the last six years.
I wasn’t sure at first, or let’s just say my track record was not impressive, so I doubted my intuition. I didn’t want to go through another break-up. I didn’t want to get my hopes up only to discover that it wasn’t meant to be.
It was a casual gathering. Just dinner and drinks. Little did I know that my life and the lives of my children would forever be changed. I was a little nervous, a little anxious, and a little guarded.
I was divorced for three years. In that time I had dated a few men. Some good, some not so good, and the truth be told, I gave up on the dating scene. It was just too complicated and too time consuming, and I was exhausted.
When I accepted an invitation to have dinner and drinks with some co-workers there was a hint of a set up with a single guy who just went through a divorce himself. No expectations, but when he made me smile and then laugh…. well.
I entered through the door, we were introduced, I shook his hand and then we began a conversation that we continue to have everyday.
There isn’t much to explain here, we have been happy ever since- well mostly happy. We have had our downs and our struggles. We had to work hard for what we wanted. We continue to work hard- and that’s really what love is all about. It’s all about the Mashed Potatoes- and everything else is gravy.
Happy Meetiversary Cowboy! MUAH!
Enjoy these few haikus he’s written me through out the years.
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.
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!!
Today sucked! For those of you who have had children, do you remember the strong feeling of love and protection you felt when you held your little one for the first time? Did you ever feel like you were going to knock the shit out of the doctor when they poked your little one with a needle because it caused them pain?
Today was one of those days. Stacy had her biopsy this morning and I hated that she had to lay on that sterile flat table while they poked her. She was already nervous, and when the doctor confirmed that a biopsy was necessary I could see the tears well up in her eyes. They begin to blurt out information to her and having her sign paper work, and all I can see is that my baby girl was upset. All I could do was hold her and plant seeds of courage. I wanted desperately to trade places with her.
We should get results by Tuesday. Until then we wait and hope for the best case. A benign mass that doesn’t need to be removed with surgery.
Worst case– well we can’t think about that can we?
What’s totally serendipitous is that I have been doing this book study Thursday night, in a small group called “Living Free” at Sagebrush Church. They’re small support groups for fucked up people like myself. This study is about fear. How to handle fear in our lives, because we can’t completely get rid of it that shit. (I’m cussing more than usual because I am PMSing, emotional, and had my own medical stuff thrown at me today as well, so I feel like cussing!) Anyway, the author, Steven Furtick, wrote this book, “Crashing the Chatterbox,” and how we can deal with the fears in our life. He suggests that we should think about our fears when they start to creep up on us. In other words, when the “what ifs” start playing roller coaster with your mind, you should face it and face it with a counter of faith. Here is an example. What if the tumor is not benign? That would be devastating. She would have to get treatment. She may need surgery. She’s been down that road before. She’s tough! She can do it! This girl will overcome this and I will support her and damn it–I’ll shave my own head in solidarity! No matter what happens, I know she will get through this. I know she will. She is a fighter, and she is strong!
I don’t understand friends. So much bad shit all around us. It’s easy to give in to the fears and then let them control us down the rabbit hole of darkness and despair. It takes faith to face the fear and know that somehow, in someway, everything works out. Somehow we come out of it stronger and wiser.
As her mommy I wish I could give her a life that is free of suffering and pain, a life that is smooth sailing. No troubles. Just like Nemo’s dad! Keep her in her room and never let anything bad happen to her, which means nothing will happen to her…
Meanwhile, I have been having issues with my bladder and after a consultation and exam with my doctor, she has ordered me to quit caffeine, alcohol, and chili. There may be a body in my backyard that has been fed to my chickens… just sayin. I think I need a new doctor! CHILI?!?! NO! I don’t think so bitch! Maybe I should move to Colorado!
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!
The parking lot was empty. Just an old building, falling apart but sturdy on the foundation. She just couldn’t hold it in anymore. The tears started to cumulate and the choking feeling in her throat had to be released. She laid her head on the steering wheel and cried. The baby was sound asleep in the back seat and the one forming in her womb stirred. “God, I need food to feed my babies and the church pantry is closed. What do I do?”
It was just two years ago, drunk and no worries in the world. All that mattered was satisfying her desire to fill the void. To feel beautiful and wanted.
The pregnancy test showed positive and all she could do was stare at it and murmur “No, No, No…” She wanted a baby, eventually, but not now, not like this. After all, she did just go through a divorce, at the ripe age of 19. The baby daddy was someone she only knew for a few months.
When she sat on the examining table, the doctor confirmed that she was indeed expecting. He asked what she wanted to do. She was paralyzed with fear but she knew in her heart and soul that she was going to have this baby and to do whatever it took to raise her. It didn’t occur to her to terminate.
The odds were against her. Oh! they were very much against her!
Unmarried. No permanent place of her own. No job. Just a 20 year old college girl trying to find her place in this world.
Leaving that doctor’s office she made a promise to her baby and to herself. She placed her shaky palm on her womb and whispered, “No matter what happens, little one, I promise you that I will give you everything I never had, I promise you that I will protect you and love you.”
That day she and the baby daddy found a place to live and started on journey that would not be comfortable, a journey that would encompass growing pains, hardships, heartaches, and redemption.
Two years later and she was expecting her second child. There wasn’t enough money for the month, and not enough government subsidies to assist with the necessities of life. She knew that a church offered food to families in need. It was closed and she just couldn’t hold it in anymore. Hopeless. Empty. Angry. Angry for letting her life be exactly what she didn’t want it to be. She stared in the reflection of the rear view mirror, eyes swollen and tear stains on her cheeks. She had to admit that she was falling into the same footsteps as her own mother. She stared into those eyes and murmured, “No, No, No… I will not let this happen.”
She left that parking lot, feeling a lot like that old building- falling apart, empty but had a sturdy foundation. That foundation was love, grit, determination, and faith.
A few years later, with a lot of therapy, support groups, faith and facing some Giants along the way, she made a life for herself and her children.
If you ask her today about her “why,” about what makes her so strong and why she works so hard. She’ll tell you their names are Stacy and Kevin. Fourteen years later, God said, “Well, since you love them so much, let’s bring Avery along to spread even more joy, to remind you that children are not an inconvenience, they are the symbol of love, hope and wonder. They are a blessing as you are to me.” There are days I disagree with God when these kids drive me to my breaking point sometimes… but they truly did save my life.
And how true! Because of my children, I learned what God’s love was all about. I may have lived my life backwards, but I would not want it any other way. I cannot imagine a world without my Stacy and Kevin and Avery. After that day at the parking lot, I no longer wondered where food was coming from. Don’t get me wrong, I still hunger. I hunger for more joy, love, peace and faith for the remainder of my life.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the Mamas out there. Doesn’t matter how your children came into your life, you love them and will do anything for them. I promise you that you are doing better than you think you are.
Also don’t forget to use condoms or don’t forget to take your birth control pills people. 😉 After all, are we not all a product of druken sex? 🙂 That was a joke…
roxyjaecks 