What does it mean to be a disabled mom? It means not being able to run and jump and climb with your child. It means not being able to get down on the floor to play. It means having to say "Momma doesn't go fast, honey." It means having to say "Momma can't climb the slide, but I'll watch you!" It means sitting or standing on the sidelines, watching other parents play with their child in ways you can't play with yours.
Being a disabled mom means that I do things differently with my child. It means I have to get creative and find ways to work around my limitations so that I can still give my child everything they need. It means that I take a great amount of pride in what I do accomplish and the relationship I have with my child, because I had to work really hard to get here.
Being a disabled mom also means that my son has grown up with the expectation that if he is capable of something, he will do it. He carries his own dishes. He carries things for me when I ask him to. Not even 2 and a half, and he knows where to put all his laundry, where his shoes go, where momma's shoes go, he empties his own potty, he will run and grab my phone and bring it to me if I forget it. He is a very helpful child, and it makes my life so much easier.
Being a disabled mom DOESN'T mean I ignore my child. It doesn't mean I don't play with my child. And more than anything, it doesn't mean I take this for granted.
I hate telling my son I can't get on the floor with him. I hate it. But I know that I am teaching him valuable lessons, I am teaching my son about limits and about not always getting what he wants. I never just tell him "no." I say "Momma can't get on the floor. Can we play in the window?" We have a large bay window in our house, and it's the perfect height for him and for me to sit in a chair and play. We play cars and blocks in the window a lot.
Being a disabled mom means making choices. It means deciding what is worth pushing myself for. It means knowing that if I do x, y, and z I will be unable to do a, b, and c. Being a disabled mom means choosing to be a mom before anything else. It means consciously putting my child and their needs above my own. It means never taking for granted the ability to pick up my child. It means relishing every game and every time I get to carry him around.
I've been nearly paralyzed from the waist down. I've been in a wheelchair. I've been confined to bed. I've been unable to feed myself, let alone take care of anyone else.
I've been there. And I know I can go there again. So I focus on every single day I have to be Mommy. People are always saying "enjoy these moments, they are gone too soon." They don't know how true those words ring to me. I know this could all change tomorrow. I know.
Being a disabled mom means living and doing and being, no matter what. I focus on today. On right now. I focus on these moments. I don't think about tomorrow or next week or next year. Right now is what I have, and I want to be the best mom, right now, that I can be.
It also means I try not to live in the past. I try to forget whatever mistakes were made yesterday. Every day is new, for me and for my child. We had a rough day yesterday? Big deal. That was yesterday. I'm not going to judge today by that.
Being a disabled mom means being forced to slow down and appreciate all the small things.
When I was laying in a hospital bed in October, 2006... I had no idea what I could possible do with my life. I gave up, I stopped fighting.
I never give up now. I never stop fighting through the challenges or the bad days. Because every bad day I have now is worth more than the good days I had before I was disabled. It's cliche, but it's true.
I'm a disabled mom. And I choose to believe that I am a better mom because of it.
Monday, May 21, 2012
Friday, April 27, 2012
Defenses
I am 15ish weeks pregnant with my second child. Pregnancy is remarkably hard on me, and I'm really not sure if it's just pregnancy in general or pregnancy + my MS. Regardless, things have been hard.
We are planning a homebirth with a midwife. There are many reasons for this, but most of it boils down to the fact that I do not trust doctors easily, and being in a doctor's office instantly puts me on the defensive and in "Fight" mode. I have a checkered history with the medical profession, and frankly I'd rather just avoid them unless it is necessary. And I don't feel that pregnancy is a "necessary" time. My great-grandmother gave birth to 12 children in her home, 2 sets of twins. She also was a midwife to other women. No one is ever going to convince me that my body is incapable of handling pregnancy on its own.
That was a tangent. Anyway. My midwife has never assisted a woman with MS. Because fo this she wanted to know more about my condition and how my disease affected me. Mostly, she cares about me as a person and just wanted to understand my personal situation. I have no problem talking about my MS to anyone.
But as part of this she asked me to write out how my MS impacts me, how it limits me, how I am different from a person without MS.
And I had to ask my husband for help. Because I don't think about it like that. I know I am different, I know I have limits; but the fact is that I cannot allow myself to get bogged down in that.
There are different ways of dealing with MS. One of the ways I have seen done is to keep basically an MS "diary" of every symptom and its severity throughout your day. The thought of this is so alien and uncomfortable to me that I have never done such a thing. On one hand, it does create some difficulty when I realize a symptom has gotten worse, and I don't know when that happened. On the other hand, it allows me to live my life on my terms without constantly thinking of myself as "disabled" or "different."
I deal with my MS the same way that I deal with any other problem in my life - I give it only as much attention as is required, and mostly I try to work around it and live my life regardless of it. Kind of like I hate the fact that we have a shared driveway, but I just ignore it and try to make sure that I am careful going in and out of it, then don't think about it when I'm not pulling in to or out of the driveway. Does that make sense?
I don't think about my ability to walk unless we are discussing doing something that will require a lot of walking. Then I consider the terrain, what I'd need to carry, how long we will be out, whether I will be able to take breaks... If my son and I are just spending the day hanging out at home, I don't think about my ability to walk. It doesn't apply, so it isn't on my mind.
My defense against my disease is to live my life in spite of it. I try to do what I want to do, I try to be the person I want to be, I try to just focus on the here and now. I don't think about the "before." Because it doesn't matter. What I used to be able to do is irrelevant to my life NOW. And I care about my life NOW.
Looking at the list my husband helped me make for my midwife is depressing. I want to tear it up and scream "That's Not Me!" but it is me. It's me, on paper; leaving my heart, my determination, my drive, my will out of it.
That's my problem with doctors. They only see the symptoms. They never think about the person behind them.
I am not my disease. And the only reason I am willing to show the list to my midwife is that I trust she will not see it as ME. She knows how driven and strong and capable I am. That is why she is assisting me in attempting an HBAC (homebirth after Cesarean.) She knows how hard I fought to have my first child at home. She herself said "You never gave up and you did everything right during labor. If sheer force of will would have gotten him out, you'd have done it." Because I do not give up. I do not stop. I do not back down.
I am not that list of symptoms. I am far more than that. It depresses me to look at the list, but not because of how it impacts my life. No, it depresses me because I realize that that list is how most people would see me. If I showed that list to people, how many would look past it to see who I really am? And how many would just focus on my various disabilities and decide it was too much effort to do anything with me?
That's the beauty of my life, though. Everyone in my life, all the people I love and the friends I have made; they don't see that list. And I know that. I know that they see me first as the person I am. And then it is understood that accommodations may have to be made.
That is how I live my life. I think of the end goal first. And then I figure out what I need to do to make sure I get there. Sure, I have to think of what I need to do to make it possible. But I never start with the premise that it isn't possible.
We are planning a homebirth with a midwife. There are many reasons for this, but most of it boils down to the fact that I do not trust doctors easily, and being in a doctor's office instantly puts me on the defensive and in "Fight" mode. I have a checkered history with the medical profession, and frankly I'd rather just avoid them unless it is necessary. And I don't feel that pregnancy is a "necessary" time. My great-grandmother gave birth to 12 children in her home, 2 sets of twins. She also was a midwife to other women. No one is ever going to convince me that my body is incapable of handling pregnancy on its own.
That was a tangent. Anyway. My midwife has never assisted a woman with MS. Because fo this she wanted to know more about my condition and how my disease affected me. Mostly, she cares about me as a person and just wanted to understand my personal situation. I have no problem talking about my MS to anyone.
But as part of this she asked me to write out how my MS impacts me, how it limits me, how I am different from a person without MS.
And I had to ask my husband for help. Because I don't think about it like that. I know I am different, I know I have limits; but the fact is that I cannot allow myself to get bogged down in that.
There are different ways of dealing with MS. One of the ways I have seen done is to keep basically an MS "diary" of every symptom and its severity throughout your day. The thought of this is so alien and uncomfortable to me that I have never done such a thing. On one hand, it does create some difficulty when I realize a symptom has gotten worse, and I don't know when that happened. On the other hand, it allows me to live my life on my terms without constantly thinking of myself as "disabled" or "different."
I deal with my MS the same way that I deal with any other problem in my life - I give it only as much attention as is required, and mostly I try to work around it and live my life regardless of it. Kind of like I hate the fact that we have a shared driveway, but I just ignore it and try to make sure that I am careful going in and out of it, then don't think about it when I'm not pulling in to or out of the driveway. Does that make sense?
I don't think about my ability to walk unless we are discussing doing something that will require a lot of walking. Then I consider the terrain, what I'd need to carry, how long we will be out, whether I will be able to take breaks... If my son and I are just spending the day hanging out at home, I don't think about my ability to walk. It doesn't apply, so it isn't on my mind.
My defense against my disease is to live my life in spite of it. I try to do what I want to do, I try to be the person I want to be, I try to just focus on the here and now. I don't think about the "before." Because it doesn't matter. What I used to be able to do is irrelevant to my life NOW. And I care about my life NOW.
Looking at the list my husband helped me make for my midwife is depressing. I want to tear it up and scream "That's Not Me!" but it is me. It's me, on paper; leaving my heart, my determination, my drive, my will out of it.
That's my problem with doctors. They only see the symptoms. They never think about the person behind them.
I am not my disease. And the only reason I am willing to show the list to my midwife is that I trust she will not see it as ME. She knows how driven and strong and capable I am. That is why she is assisting me in attempting an HBAC (homebirth after Cesarean.) She knows how hard I fought to have my first child at home. She herself said "You never gave up and you did everything right during labor. If sheer force of will would have gotten him out, you'd have done it." Because I do not give up. I do not stop. I do not back down.
I am not that list of symptoms. I am far more than that. It depresses me to look at the list, but not because of how it impacts my life. No, it depresses me because I realize that that list is how most people would see me. If I showed that list to people, how many would look past it to see who I really am? And how many would just focus on my various disabilities and decide it was too much effort to do anything with me?
That's the beauty of my life, though. Everyone in my life, all the people I love and the friends I have made; they don't see that list. And I know that. I know that they see me first as the person I am. And then it is understood that accommodations may have to be made.
That is how I live my life. I think of the end goal first. And then I figure out what I need to do to make sure I get there. Sure, I have to think of what I need to do to make it possible. But I never start with the premise that it isn't possible.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Changes
My 2 year old is in the middle of potty-training right now. I should note that this was really more his idea than mine. I have been pretty unsure of how to go about this potty thing, and early attempts failed miserably. Most of what I have seen/heard/read about has been stuff like "sit your child on the potty every 20 minutes!" and that sort of really involved stuff.
I am not in to "really involved." I don't have the physical or mental stamina to get in to constant battles of will with my son. Which isn't to say that I let him run around like a wild creature and do whatever he pleases in an undisciplined fashion. No, its really more that I pick and choose my battles wisely and trying to make him sit on a potty every 20 minutes was not an undertaking I was willing to commit to.
Instead, he started telling me when he was "soaked" and wanted "new dopper" (new diaper, for those who don't speak toddler.) And then he started asking to use the potty. No, seriously. He'd ask me to take his diaper off and let him use the potty. We had bought his potty about 6 months ago, when he initially started showing signs that he might be ready. So he knew what it was and had become accustomed to its presence.
Once THAT happened, I was like "well, it's now or never..." and one morning I just took his diaper off and said "Ok, when you need to pee, you go in the potty. We don't pee on the floor." My son answered "No pee floor. Pee potty." And then... uh, went and peed in his potty.
I have been living the past week and a half in shock. He's had accidents, yes. He's peed a bit on the floor a handfull of times. But mostly? He's potty trained now, when we're in the house. I haven't exactly braved taking him in public yet.
This has been awesome. Mostly because I don't have to lift him on to the changing table 12 times a day. Nah, only 3 times a day now. (He still wears a diaper for his nap, so once to put it on and once to take it off. And then he wears a diaper to bed.) This is huge. Though I am dumping his potty out a million times a day, but at least that's less effort.
This whole experience just makes me wonder how different this went for me and if my disabilities are playing a role. My son has been following directions and simple requests for a long time now. He is frequently asked to do things for me (can you pick that up? Can you move that? Can you take this to your table?) And he's really awesome about doing the things he's asked to do.
So he has taken a big role in his pottying adventures. He lifts his liner out once he's peed and brings it to me. Which is not always that awesome, as he has spilled a few times. But I do appreciate that he is trying to help. He puts it back once I have emptied and cleaned it. He alerts me if he has had an accident, and will show it to me. "momma, I pee floor. clean up." He'll even try to help clean up if I'm not careful.
Part of me wonders if he's taking on too much responsibility and whether or not I am inadvertently damaging him.
But then he spends so much time in my lap, cuddling me and hugging me, saying "awww momma! mine momma!" that I figure... well, he's happy and for now, for this moment, he absolutely adores me. I must not be screwing him up too bad.
I don't think his toddlerhood so far has been all that different. He runs and plays and talks and learns... he changes day by day. And I do my best to keep up. Even when I am very sick from my pregnancy and even when I have no idea what I'm doing.
I'm just trying to keep up. And I think I'm doing ok, so far.
Friday, March 16, 2012
My House is a Mess. And I Don't Care.
I haven't posted in awhile. Being pregnant is a special kind of difficult. I knew this when we decided to have a second child. My first pregnancy was rather difficult, and that time I didn't have another child to worry about. I was able to sleep 18 hours a day the first time around. But this time my son actually expects me to be the same momma I've always been. It's a lot of extra pressure.
On top of that, my MS hasn't let up the same way it did the first time. When I was pregnant with my son I almost felt like my MS entirely went away. Aside from pregnancy ickiness, I felt better than I had in years. This time? Yeah, not so much. I am in just as much pain and have just as many issues as I did before.
Basically, all of this means that I am doing even less around the house than I used to. Look. My house is always messy. There is always clutter and toys strewn about the floor. And, really? I don't care.
I have a limited amount of energy. If I overdo it, I am left unable to move. This is my reality.
So I decide what I want to do. Do I want to clean up my house? Or would I rather make sure I have enough energy to get on the floor and play with my son? Do I want to put away toys? Or do I want to take my son to the park?
It's really an easy decision for me. I'd rather spend the energy I have being Momma. I really don't think that a perfectly put together house is as important as my child(ren) knowing I will always play with them or take them on small adventures.
I know I have limits and I know that my child(ren) will have different experiences because of my disabilities. But I do my best to limit how impacted they are.
Frankly, anyone who wants to judge my house can suck it. It's not dirty, it's not dangerous. It's messy and cluttered. But there's a really happy little boy who lives here, who asks his momma to come play blocks. And she goes to play blocks. The dishes can wait. Picking up toys can wait. Because he's only going to be 2 once. And I want to savor these days where he actually wants to play with me.
On top of that, my MS hasn't let up the same way it did the first time. When I was pregnant with my son I almost felt like my MS entirely went away. Aside from pregnancy ickiness, I felt better than I had in years. This time? Yeah, not so much. I am in just as much pain and have just as many issues as I did before.
Basically, all of this means that I am doing even less around the house than I used to. Look. My house is always messy. There is always clutter and toys strewn about the floor. And, really? I don't care.
I have a limited amount of energy. If I overdo it, I am left unable to move. This is my reality.
So I decide what I want to do. Do I want to clean up my house? Or would I rather make sure I have enough energy to get on the floor and play with my son? Do I want to put away toys? Or do I want to take my son to the park?
It's really an easy decision for me. I'd rather spend the energy I have being Momma. I really don't think that a perfectly put together house is as important as my child(ren) knowing I will always play with them or take them on small adventures.
I know I have limits and I know that my child(ren) will have different experiences because of my disabilities. But I do my best to limit how impacted they are.
Frankly, anyone who wants to judge my house can suck it. It's not dirty, it's not dangerous. It's messy and cluttered. But there's a really happy little boy who lives here, who asks his momma to come play blocks. And she goes to play blocks. The dishes can wait. Picking up toys can wait. Because he's only going to be 2 once. And I want to savor these days where he actually wants to play with me.
Monday, February 27, 2012
It's hard to find a community
I am not very active in MS support groups or organizations. It's not that I don't want to be, it's that I've had some pretty crappy experiences and it's hard to keep putting myself out there.
In 2009 I was a member of an online support group, which shall remain nameless. Things went pretty well at first, I got a lot of support in coming out of a flare that hospitalized me. But then I decided to start a family, and it all went downhill from there.
I've mentioned that I have had negative reactions to my status as a parent. And some of the worst reactions have come from other people who have MS. I think it must be a similar circumstance to why women are the harshest judges of each other - when you're already marginalized you seem to want to lash out at anyone who you feel maybe isn't AS marginalized as you.
In 2009, when I belonged to this online support board, I happily announced my pregnancy. And immediately was inundated to comments about how selfish I was, how could I do this to a child, didn't I care about my future baby, how irresponsible I was. And even some very direct and simple "you're a horrible person."
I was shocked. And as the insults kept coming, I also started to notice a distinct pattern to them. The people who insulted me were, by and large, people who felt that they were "victims" of MS. They were people who didn't share my outlook on life and who didn't have anything in common with how I managed my disease.
I am not insulting them. MS sucks. It really does. But my life is not defined by my MS. It has a severe impact on everything I do, yes. But so does me being fat, or being a woman, or being white, or being tattooed or any number of things. Something can be pervasive and have a huge impact on my life without my life being ABOUT it.
My life is about me. About my family. About being a wife and a mother. Before I was a mom my life was about navigating the world and figuring out how to have what I wanted. My husband and I had an awesome honeymoon in Myrtle Beach, we did everything we wanted to do, even when my wheelchair made it a bit more difficult.
But that is part of who I am.
I admit, when I was first diagnosed with MS I hid. I spent almost a year in my parents' house hiding from the world. I left their home only a handfull of times. I was embarrassed, I was angry, I was depressed, I was a victim of a cruel disease who took everything I had from me.
And then I decided I was done being a victim. I'm not trying to say I pulled myself up by my bootstraps or some nonsense. No. I was lucky because I had very supportive family members, I had a very good therapist, and I had my own stubborn attitude on my side. It was hard, but I did decide to change how I was living my life. I decided to stop hiding and I decided that I had the same right to a wonderful life as anyone else.
Some people never get there. Some people are not able to make the transition from "victim of" to "person with." Some people do not have the supportive family members I have, or the access to therapy and mental health services that I have. I am lucky, and I know that.
So these people who were at a different place than I, they insulted me because I was doing something they couldn't imagine doing. I was living in a way they could not imagine living. And while their insults hurt, they also showed me that I didn't belong there.
I have found a different community now. I'm new to it, but so far it seems to be full of people who are living with MS, not victims of it. There's even another member who recently had a child.
And when I announced my second pregnancy, the response was 100% positive.
It is sad to me that in small communities there is such division. It is sad to me that people with MS can judge each other so harshly. But it serves to remind me that I don't need to restrict myself to interacting only to people in my "community."
I have found many wonderful friends who accept me for who I am, regardless of my MS and regardless of my disabilities. These are friends who accept me as I am, even if they don't fully understand my disease they certainly try to be accommodating.
And that means the world to me. I have a network of people who love and accept me for who I am. Who celebrate my happiness with me and who don't judge me for anything but my actions. If I do something stupid, they call me on it. But when I accomplish something I am proud of, they celebrate with me.
In 2009 I was a member of an online support group, which shall remain nameless. Things went pretty well at first, I got a lot of support in coming out of a flare that hospitalized me. But then I decided to start a family, and it all went downhill from there.
I've mentioned that I have had negative reactions to my status as a parent. And some of the worst reactions have come from other people who have MS. I think it must be a similar circumstance to why women are the harshest judges of each other - when you're already marginalized you seem to want to lash out at anyone who you feel maybe isn't AS marginalized as you.
In 2009, when I belonged to this online support board, I happily announced my pregnancy. And immediately was inundated to comments about how selfish I was, how could I do this to a child, didn't I care about my future baby, how irresponsible I was. And even some very direct and simple "you're a horrible person."
I was shocked. And as the insults kept coming, I also started to notice a distinct pattern to them. The people who insulted me were, by and large, people who felt that they were "victims" of MS. They were people who didn't share my outlook on life and who didn't have anything in common with how I managed my disease.
I am not insulting them. MS sucks. It really does. But my life is not defined by my MS. It has a severe impact on everything I do, yes. But so does me being fat, or being a woman, or being white, or being tattooed or any number of things. Something can be pervasive and have a huge impact on my life without my life being ABOUT it.
My life is about me. About my family. About being a wife and a mother. Before I was a mom my life was about navigating the world and figuring out how to have what I wanted. My husband and I had an awesome honeymoon in Myrtle Beach, we did everything we wanted to do, even when my wheelchair made it a bit more difficult.
But that is part of who I am.
I admit, when I was first diagnosed with MS I hid. I spent almost a year in my parents' house hiding from the world. I left their home only a handfull of times. I was embarrassed, I was angry, I was depressed, I was a victim of a cruel disease who took everything I had from me.
And then I decided I was done being a victim. I'm not trying to say I pulled myself up by my bootstraps or some nonsense. No. I was lucky because I had very supportive family members, I had a very good therapist, and I had my own stubborn attitude on my side. It was hard, but I did decide to change how I was living my life. I decided to stop hiding and I decided that I had the same right to a wonderful life as anyone else.
Some people never get there. Some people are not able to make the transition from "victim of" to "person with." Some people do not have the supportive family members I have, or the access to therapy and mental health services that I have. I am lucky, and I know that.
So these people who were at a different place than I, they insulted me because I was doing something they couldn't imagine doing. I was living in a way they could not imagine living. And while their insults hurt, they also showed me that I didn't belong there.
I have found a different community now. I'm new to it, but so far it seems to be full of people who are living with MS, not victims of it. There's even another member who recently had a child.
And when I announced my second pregnancy, the response was 100% positive.
It is sad to me that in small communities there is such division. It is sad to me that people with MS can judge each other so harshly. But it serves to remind me that I don't need to restrict myself to interacting only to people in my "community."
I have found many wonderful friends who accept me for who I am, regardless of my MS and regardless of my disabilities. These are friends who accept me as I am, even if they don't fully understand my disease they certainly try to be accommodating.
And that means the world to me. I have a network of people who love and accept me for who I am. Who celebrate my happiness with me and who don't judge me for anything but my actions. If I do something stupid, they call me on it. But when I accomplish something I am proud of, they celebrate with me.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Everyone Has An Opinion
I just found out that I am pregnant with my second child. Being the kind of person I am, pretty much the whole world knows about my pregnancy. I never could keep a secret.
This pregnancy is planned. This pregnancy is wanted. This pregnancy is also a bit controversial.
Because I am a disabled mom. Because I already have days where it is challenging to take care of my son. Because people have opinions on everything, and they seem to think it is their business how I and my family choose to conduct our lives.
So let me put some things to rest.
If you want to congratulate me, offer me warm thoughts and wishes for a safe and healthy pregnancy and birth? Please do so. If you want to provide me helpful and supportive comments on caring for a toddler while pregnant, or for introducing a newborn to a toddler? Please do so.
If you want to question my judgment, if you want to question my abilities, if you want to try and take away my joy and excitement? You can take a long walk off a short pier. You can shut the hell up. You can show yourself the door. Because I do not want to hear it.
My husband and I did not make this decision lightly. The fact is that we have been discussing the possibility of expanding our family for a year. We have had so many discussions and went over the pros and cons enough times to make your head spin. Because we wanted to be sure. Because we wanted to be honest. Because we wanted to make the right decision for our family.
Because that's what this is. It is about our family. And anyone who tries to make it about them is the worst kind of arrogant self-important jerk. I don't care if you'd have done things differently. You can do whatever you want with your own life. But this life is mine. And I will do with it all I can.
I am a mom to an amazing 2-year-old boy. I am pregnant with my second child. I am married to a wonderfully supportive and caring man. I am a disabled woman. IN THAT ORDER. I am a mom and a wife FIRST. I give everything I have to being a good wife and mother.
So if you want to question my decision to have a second child? Take a look at yourself. What kind of person questions the right of another to have a child? I am not asking for your help or your approval. I am not asking for permission from society.
I am telling you, point blank, that I am having a second child. And I will be a damn good mom to two kids. Because I am a damn good mom. And a good friend, a good wife, a good person.
My physical disabilities have a huge impact on my every day life. I have to do many things differently. But one thing that my disabilities have no impact on is how I care for my child. The activities we do may be different, but my son is my world. He is always well taken care of and he is a very happy, loving, sweet and intelligent little boy. Everyone who meets him loves him. My disabilities have no bearing on that.
So. Let's recap.
I'm proud and excited to be expecting my second child. And if anyone has anything negative about it, they can screw themselves.
This pregnancy is planned. This pregnancy is wanted. This pregnancy is also a bit controversial.
Because I am a disabled mom. Because I already have days where it is challenging to take care of my son. Because people have opinions on everything, and they seem to think it is their business how I and my family choose to conduct our lives.
So let me put some things to rest.
If you want to congratulate me, offer me warm thoughts and wishes for a safe and healthy pregnancy and birth? Please do so. If you want to provide me helpful and supportive comments on caring for a toddler while pregnant, or for introducing a newborn to a toddler? Please do so.
If you want to question my judgment, if you want to question my abilities, if you want to try and take away my joy and excitement? You can take a long walk off a short pier. You can shut the hell up. You can show yourself the door. Because I do not want to hear it.
My husband and I did not make this decision lightly. The fact is that we have been discussing the possibility of expanding our family for a year. We have had so many discussions and went over the pros and cons enough times to make your head spin. Because we wanted to be sure. Because we wanted to be honest. Because we wanted to make the right decision for our family.
Because that's what this is. It is about our family. And anyone who tries to make it about them is the worst kind of arrogant self-important jerk. I don't care if you'd have done things differently. You can do whatever you want with your own life. But this life is mine. And I will do with it all I can.
I am a mom to an amazing 2-year-old boy. I am pregnant with my second child. I am married to a wonderfully supportive and caring man. I am a disabled woman. IN THAT ORDER. I am a mom and a wife FIRST. I give everything I have to being a good wife and mother.
So if you want to question my decision to have a second child? Take a look at yourself. What kind of person questions the right of another to have a child? I am not asking for your help or your approval. I am not asking for permission from society.
I am telling you, point blank, that I am having a second child. And I will be a damn good mom to two kids. Because I am a damn good mom. And a good friend, a good wife, a good person.
My physical disabilities have a huge impact on my every day life. I have to do many things differently. But one thing that my disabilities have no impact on is how I care for my child. The activities we do may be different, but my son is my world. He is always well taken care of and he is a very happy, loving, sweet and intelligent little boy. Everyone who meets him loves him. My disabilities have no bearing on that.
So. Let's recap.
I'm proud and excited to be expecting my second child. And if anyone has anything negative about it, they can screw themselves.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Boxes
I don't really fit in to any parenting "boxes." I'm not sure why I would be surprised, given that I never fit in to any other "boxes" either. Even my MS doesn't fit in to a "box" which is always fun to talk about with my neurologist.
Because of my physical limitations, I have had to make decisions and compromises in every aspect of my life. I have learned how to navigate my challenges and I have learned how to quickly assess a situation and look for the best outcome. That's what I am always trying to achieve; not the perfect outcome, but the best I can manage. Living your life with a chronic, disabling medical conditions forces you to reach a point of acceptance. I accept that I have disabilities and that I can't always be the kind of person I want to be. But I try very hard to be the BEST I can be. Whatever my BEST may be.
I am not a "crunchy" or "Attachment Parenting" parent. There are things that I do from these "boxes" to be sure. But I do not fit the label and I am not really welcome in their secret meetings. I formula-fed my child, for one. I tried to breastfeed, but it was far too much stress and pain. I needed to go back on medications for my MS. I was a better mom because of it, you know, being that I could actually move and hold my child.
The list goes on. I stopped wearing him when he was young because he didn't seem to like it and it was more painful for me. He has watched tv from a young age because he liked it and it gave me something to do when I was up for hours with him. We stopped cosleeping because I needed to get more sleep or I was going to fall apart; I was getting to the point where I was in so much constant pain and could hardly move that I didn't want to live, let alone take care of a baby.
My point is, I did what worked for us, because being able to label myself wasn't worth more than my health and my sanity.
But, well, "non-crunchy" parents and I don't really get along, either. I cloth diaper. I believe in natural childbirth and homebirth. I disagree with the practice of circumcision. We did baby-led-weaning; that is, my child was eating whatever we ate by the time he was 9 months old, and feeding himself to boot. We never let our child cry it out. he was cuddled to sleep until he was around 18 months old, when he finally decided he wanted to put himself to bed. I don't spank.
In every aspect of my life I follow whatever path works. I don't concern myself with labels, because there's no point. I can either do something or I can't. So I do things my way.
My child plays outside and gets filthy. Or he wants to watch "Queen and Mater!" and we chill on the couch.
I think my style of parenting could best be described as "balancing act." Some days it's about survival by whatever means necessary. I can't move well and I'm hurting, so whatever is going to get us both out of the day alive wins. Some days it's about doing as much as I can while I'm feeling good, so I play on the floor and invent games for us to play together. Most days it's in the middle.
I didn't realize it was going to be so hard to be a mom. Much less how difficult it was going to be to be a disabled mom. But I'm blazing my trail and doing the best I can. I look at the "boxes" around me, and I'm happy to navigate my way through them. Who needs labels? I'm already an outlier, so why change now?
It was hard to accept my MS diagnosis almost 6 years ago. But since coming to terms with it I have learned to be a lot more comfortable in my own skin and I have learned to be a lot more accepting. I know who I am and I know what I am capable of. It really doesn't matter what anyone else thinks or does.
Because of my physical limitations, I have had to make decisions and compromises in every aspect of my life. I have learned how to navigate my challenges and I have learned how to quickly assess a situation and look for the best outcome. That's what I am always trying to achieve; not the perfect outcome, but the best I can manage. Living your life with a chronic, disabling medical conditions forces you to reach a point of acceptance. I accept that I have disabilities and that I can't always be the kind of person I want to be. But I try very hard to be the BEST I can be. Whatever my BEST may be.
I am not a "crunchy" or "Attachment Parenting" parent. There are things that I do from these "boxes" to be sure. But I do not fit the label and I am not really welcome in their secret meetings. I formula-fed my child, for one. I tried to breastfeed, but it was far too much stress and pain. I needed to go back on medications for my MS. I was a better mom because of it, you know, being that I could actually move and hold my child.
The list goes on. I stopped wearing him when he was young because he didn't seem to like it and it was more painful for me. He has watched tv from a young age because he liked it and it gave me something to do when I was up for hours with him. We stopped cosleeping because I needed to get more sleep or I was going to fall apart; I was getting to the point where I was in so much constant pain and could hardly move that I didn't want to live, let alone take care of a baby.
My point is, I did what worked for us, because being able to label myself wasn't worth more than my health and my sanity.
But, well, "non-crunchy" parents and I don't really get along, either. I cloth diaper. I believe in natural childbirth and homebirth. I disagree with the practice of circumcision. We did baby-led-weaning; that is, my child was eating whatever we ate by the time he was 9 months old, and feeding himself to boot. We never let our child cry it out. he was cuddled to sleep until he was around 18 months old, when he finally decided he wanted to put himself to bed. I don't spank.
In every aspect of my life I follow whatever path works. I don't concern myself with labels, because there's no point. I can either do something or I can't. So I do things my way.
My child plays outside and gets filthy. Or he wants to watch "Queen and Mater!" and we chill on the couch.
I think my style of parenting could best be described as "balancing act." Some days it's about survival by whatever means necessary. I can't move well and I'm hurting, so whatever is going to get us both out of the day alive wins. Some days it's about doing as much as I can while I'm feeling good, so I play on the floor and invent games for us to play together. Most days it's in the middle.
I didn't realize it was going to be so hard to be a mom. Much less how difficult it was going to be to be a disabled mom. But I'm blazing my trail and doing the best I can. I look at the "boxes" around me, and I'm happy to navigate my way through them. Who needs labels? I'm already an outlier, so why change now?
It was hard to accept my MS diagnosis almost 6 years ago. But since coming to terms with it I have learned to be a lot more comfortable in my own skin and I have learned to be a lot more accepting. I know who I am and I know what I am capable of. It really doesn't matter what anyone else thinks or does.
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