I'm inherently insecure although I'm getting over it these days. I can't afford to be. Having said that, I might be deemed obnoxious since my strong opinions are becoming less diluted and polite. If I didn't have three children who are my responsibility and whose future I'm profoundly interested in, I probably would still be secretly sending in money to Sierra Club and other environmental organizations while hypocritically driving to the store instead of biking or using a billion paper towels a day to keep things clean.
Having been raised in Texas, I should be used to being different. I was a vegetarian in high school when my fellow students either never thought twice about meat or were actively raising cattle as a part of "Ag". I didn't go to church. I was less interested in fashion than I was human rights and the state of the world. People didn't understand me then and they still don't quite understand me now. I seem so normal but I'm very weird, apparently. Even in the early days of our marriage, my hubby saw me as the environmentalist in our family but now he may have even surpassed me. Go figure.
I hate self-righteousness so I hope I don't come across that way. I don't expect everyone to believe what I do. The road to becoming an environmentally minded person is varied. Some people are born with an interest in nature and have the fortune to be surrounded by people who help them experience it from an early age. Others reach it from a health perspective when they realize how their mortality is influenced heavily by what we dump into our environment. Still others may begin focusing on the environment when it occurs to them how much our way of life may soon be challenged by our supreme dependence on the finite resource of oil. I'm sure there are many other avenues to it but those are just a few. I personally always had an interest in nature and had the fortune to be introduced to its magic by my parents and family. In my family, life is celebrated in all its beauteous and magnificent forms.
I'm experiencing a metamorphosis these days and I think I may becoming something even more radical than I was in the past. I used to talk myself out of changing certain things I did because I was plain cynical about the impact it would have. It's hard to feel like you're making any difference when you're surrounded by Hummers and huge SUVs. At least in Dallas, people are almost arrogant about not being environmentally conscious. After all, it's a God-given right that we do everything big, bad and wasteful. What I find particularly amusing is when a wasteful practice such as throwing any and everything away is considered not only normal but THE way. When you go to the trouble of freecycling, reusing, recycling you're weird. Strange that being resourceful and unwasteful is not valued these days. I don't get it. What is there to be proud of of throwing more shit into a landfill? Beats me.
So, my hubby and I are doing a little at a time to change our lives from wasteful to resourceful. From changing light bulbs to energy-efficient ones, using torn up receiving blankets instead of paper towels, biking or riding the train instead of driving, we're living more simply and mindfully. Many would argue that we're inherently violating environmental ethics by having had 3 children. True. We've added to overpopulation by doing more than "replacing" ourselves. All I can say is that it was unintentional (although very welcomed). Our goal is to raise our children in an environment which will hopefully encourage them to respect their place in this world and help them understand how choices make a direct impact on the world despite what some may believe. Ultimately, there being here has served more as an inspiration for us to fight for what we believe in - for us to live how we feel our society needs to in order for our kids to have a better quality of life than they'd have if we didn't.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Ordinary beauty
I have a suspicion (or perhaps it's my conscience whispering to me) that some of my friends or family who have heard me vent about how insane my life is now wonder why I don't seem grateful for the fact that we were able to have children after all the struggles we had in order to have children in the first place. Simply put, isn't this what we wanted? Isn't this what we were begging for? Yes, it is but. . .
So, my conscience has been tumbling this question around for quite some time now - about 2 years and 9 months to be exact - and I finally feel that I understand. Essentially, one never knows what it's like to have your own child. Your own. Not someone else's. Not your brother's. Not your friend's. Your own. It's entirely different. If you haven't experienced it yourself, don't pretend you understand because you don't. Trust me. I thought I had an idea but I had no idea. Becoming a parent is a transformation of your entire being and has to be experienced in order to be understood. You can't empathize about this no matter how open-minded you are. If I had to sum up why it's because you can't imagine how much you can love a child and you also can't understand the immense responsibility that comes with raising your own child. Parenting can warm a cold, hard soul or can bring you to your knees begging for mercy. It's a blessing and a beating and it's worth it.
With this new understanding and acceptance, I have begun to open my eyes. The monotony of caring for young children at home can be brutal. Wake up 7:00 a.m. Feed twins. 7:30 oldest wakes up. Feed him. Feed self. Put laundry on. Change diapers, clothes. Prepare lunch. Serve lunch. Clean messy faces, etc., etc. Tedious. It doesn't have to be though. That's the amazing thing. For example, during a grueling diaper marathon (i.e., changing 3 dirty diapers one after the other), I might find myself covered in poo yet one of my babies might give me a smile that just makes me feel so good or my oldest might make me so proud by bringing me a diaper to change his baby brother. It's simple. It's pure. It's sweet and it's fleeting but another moment is always around the corner.
This morning, I sat in the living room and watched the twins playing on the floor. They were laughing and stealing toys back and forth from each other. My oldest was napping in his room. I was sitting on our couch folding the day's laundry and I felt at peace. My babies were fed and happy and I was relaxing as I folded each of my babys' clothes. Little jammies, shirts, shorts. Each little tiny outfit held special meaning to me and I pictured each little rascal in their clothes. I could have just been annoyed by yet another load of laundry but instead I took my time with each article of clothes and carefully folded each one. The sun shown down from the sky light above me and I felt blessed and complete.
There is a beauty to our routine and our life here and I'm thankful that I see it. I remember my Dad once telling me when I was a kid how we can make ourselves learn to enjoy things that we don't like (in this instance, I was grumbling about having to do the dishes). I often remember him telling me that as I did my chores. At the time, I thought that he was just trying to get me to quit griping and do whatever chore needed to be done. Now, though, I understand he did really mean what he was saying. I realize that I have a choice to see beauty in the little things and that that in itself is a gift. I could sit and grumble about how hard my life is - and certainly it definitely has had it's moments - but I'd be missing an opportunity to live fully, experiencing each sacred moment. Although I may still vent from time to time, I do hope to keep this perspective. I feel thankful that my life is rich with both ordinary and extraordinary beauty and I embrace it.
So, my conscience has been tumbling this question around for quite some time now - about 2 years and 9 months to be exact - and I finally feel that I understand. Essentially, one never knows what it's like to have your own child. Your own. Not someone else's. Not your brother's. Not your friend's. Your own. It's entirely different. If you haven't experienced it yourself, don't pretend you understand because you don't. Trust me. I thought I had an idea but I had no idea. Becoming a parent is a transformation of your entire being and has to be experienced in order to be understood. You can't empathize about this no matter how open-minded you are. If I had to sum up why it's because you can't imagine how much you can love a child and you also can't understand the immense responsibility that comes with raising your own child. Parenting can warm a cold, hard soul or can bring you to your knees begging for mercy. It's a blessing and a beating and it's worth it.
With this new understanding and acceptance, I have begun to open my eyes. The monotony of caring for young children at home can be brutal. Wake up 7:00 a.m. Feed twins. 7:30 oldest wakes up. Feed him. Feed self. Put laundry on. Change diapers, clothes. Prepare lunch. Serve lunch. Clean messy faces, etc., etc. Tedious. It doesn't have to be though. That's the amazing thing. For example, during a grueling diaper marathon (i.e., changing 3 dirty diapers one after the other), I might find myself covered in poo yet one of my babies might give me a smile that just makes me feel so good or my oldest might make me so proud by bringing me a diaper to change his baby brother. It's simple. It's pure. It's sweet and it's fleeting but another moment is always around the corner.
This morning, I sat in the living room and watched the twins playing on the floor. They were laughing and stealing toys back and forth from each other. My oldest was napping in his room. I was sitting on our couch folding the day's laundry and I felt at peace. My babies were fed and happy and I was relaxing as I folded each of my babys' clothes. Little jammies, shirts, shorts. Each little tiny outfit held special meaning to me and I pictured each little rascal in their clothes. I could have just been annoyed by yet another load of laundry but instead I took my time with each article of clothes and carefully folded each one. The sun shown down from the sky light above me and I felt blessed and complete.
There is a beauty to our routine and our life here and I'm thankful that I see it. I remember my Dad once telling me when I was a kid how we can make ourselves learn to enjoy things that we don't like (in this instance, I was grumbling about having to do the dishes). I often remember him telling me that as I did my chores. At the time, I thought that he was just trying to get me to quit griping and do whatever chore needed to be done. Now, though, I understand he did really mean what he was saying. I realize that I have a choice to see beauty in the little things and that that in itself is a gift. I could sit and grumble about how hard my life is - and certainly it definitely has had it's moments - but I'd be missing an opportunity to live fully, experiencing each sacred moment. Although I may still vent from time to time, I do hope to keep this perspective. I feel thankful that my life is rich with both ordinary and extraordinary beauty and I embrace it.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Anger, relief, rest and return
I was right, although I didn't believe myself. The so-called expert hoodwinked me into thinking he knew my body better than I did. His clinical data seemed more legitimate than the pain I was experiencing but whatever. I woke up from the surgery to discover that the surgeon now understood why I was in pain: my fallopian tube was corkscrewed around the ovary and ovary ligament. It was wrapped several times around it preventing the fluid in the tube (the diameter of an orange) from draining. Hmmm...sound painful? It was apparently very rare and surprised everyone. One of the nurses told me that I was "a mess in there". I wanted to ask her if she wouldn't mind checking out my head since I let the surgeon convince me that the hydrosalpinx shouldn't be that painful.
Initially, I was very mad at him for being an arrogant physician blinded by data but then I realized that I really was mad at myself for letting him convince me I was wrong. Lesson learned hopefully. Thankfully, Dr. Hays had listened to me and knew me well enough to know that I don't cry wolf.
My recovery has been decent. I could not have done it without the amazing support of my hubby's parents. More than anyone on this planet, they know the day in and day out of our lives here. It helps to share that with someone so that we don't feel so isolated and misunderstood.
Although I'm still in a little pain, especially when lifting babes a lot, I'm improving. I'm a little concerned that something else may be going on but it's still too early to tell. Too tired and too busy to worry about it yet. I'll try to give my body time to heal.
This isn't the most exciting post I have ever written but I felt I needed to write a follow up to my previous one. I have several other posts that I would like to write that were inspired by the events of the last few weeks. Although the dullness of this post might suggest that the events over the last few weeks were uneventful, they actually provided some inspiration which I hope will be conveyed on the blog in the future.
Peace and good health to all.
Initially, I was very mad at him for being an arrogant physician blinded by data but then I realized that I really was mad at myself for letting him convince me I was wrong. Lesson learned hopefully. Thankfully, Dr. Hays had listened to me and knew me well enough to know that I don't cry wolf.
My recovery has been decent. I could not have done it without the amazing support of my hubby's parents. More than anyone on this planet, they know the day in and day out of our lives here. It helps to share that with someone so that we don't feel so isolated and misunderstood.
Although I'm still in a little pain, especially when lifting babes a lot, I'm improving. I'm a little concerned that something else may be going on but it's still too early to tell. Too tired and too busy to worry about it yet. I'll try to give my body time to heal.
This isn't the most exciting post I have ever written but I felt I needed to write a follow up to my previous one. I have several other posts that I would like to write that were inspired by the events of the last few weeks. Although the dullness of this post might suggest that the events over the last few weeks were uneventful, they actually provided some inspiration which I hope will be conveyed on the blog in the future.
Peace and good health to all.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Under the knife
I have surgery tomorrow, and I have mixed emotions and adrenaline flowing through my veins. I guess tomorrow anesthetic will course through them and send me on a journey which will hopefully be uneventful and anticlimactic. I don't need any more drama.
I've been calm about it up until tonight. Although it is appreciated and welcomed, the "good luck" phone calls from family only seem to highlight the concern of others about my well being and thus send my mind down the path of what if. No need to explain the what ifs in this scenario: Cancer, surgeon error, whatever. Those thoughts then lead to my husband, my babies, my family. Phrases such as "if this happens, then we'll have to open you up" and "blood transfusion" and "vascular surgeon", etc. spoken by the surgeon echo in my head. With all the paperwork you have to sign about the rare but horrible consequences of surgery, I wish there were an option to sign one that says, "don't tell me a damn thing and just do it." Guess that doesn't cover their butt enough and Lord knows they don't care about mine (in reference to the lovely hospital gown I'll be sporting tomorrow).
Ah, well. It's a day I've been hoping for because I'd like my life to return to "normal". I am glad it's here finally but now it's time to hope it goes well. I'll hug and kiss my babes a little more tonight. Let's just hope my next post is about how great I feel now.
I've been calm about it up until tonight. Although it is appreciated and welcomed, the "good luck" phone calls from family only seem to highlight the concern of others about my well being and thus send my mind down the path of what if. No need to explain the what ifs in this scenario: Cancer, surgeon error, whatever. Those thoughts then lead to my husband, my babies, my family. Phrases such as "if this happens, then we'll have to open you up" and "blood transfusion" and "vascular surgeon", etc. spoken by the surgeon echo in my head. With all the paperwork you have to sign about the rare but horrible consequences of surgery, I wish there were an option to sign one that says, "don't tell me a damn thing and just do it." Guess that doesn't cover their butt enough and Lord knows they don't care about mine (in reference to the lovely hospital gown I'll be sporting tomorrow).
Ah, well. It's a day I've been hoping for because I'd like my life to return to "normal". I am glad it's here finally but now it's time to hope it goes well. I'll hug and kiss my babes a little more tonight. Let's just hope my next post is about how great I feel now.
Praise for Dr. Tracy Hays
She is truly a beam of sunshine in the darkest of times. I have had my share of those dark times over the last few years. From infertility to preterm labor with twins to chronic pelvic pain, Dr. Hays helped me stay focused on what was important, listened to all my fears and concerns regardless of how irrational or unfounded, and managed the care of myself and my sweet, darling babies with great professionalism, warmth and attentiveness. I could not ask for a better doctor.
Tomorrow, I'm having surgery to hopefully alleviate the pain I've been experiencing for the last few weeks. Throughout this stressful time, she has repeatedly been an advocate for me and has not only monitored my physical well being she has taken into consideration how surgery affects how I function as a mother to 3 babies. She listens and she acts. I feel understood by her, and I feel cared for in a way that most physicians couldn't possibly replicate.
She is more than a doctor. She brings to her job something special that anyone who works around her is immediately aware of. I appreciate everything she has done for me. Thank you, Dr. Hays.
Tomorrow, I'm having surgery to hopefully alleviate the pain I've been experiencing for the last few weeks. Throughout this stressful time, she has repeatedly been an advocate for me and has not only monitored my physical well being she has taken into consideration how surgery affects how I function as a mother to 3 babies. She listens and she acts. I feel understood by her, and I feel cared for in a way that most physicians couldn't possibly replicate.
She is more than a doctor. She brings to her job something special that anyone who works around her is immediately aware of. I appreciate everything she has done for me. Thank you, Dr. Hays.
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