I finally came to the conclusion the other day that no matter what happens in my husband's Marine Corps career, we will be okay. With all the cutbacks and the Marine Corps making it harder to stay in I've been worrying in the back of my head about what we will do if Johnathon isn't able to re-enlist. Thankfully he hits his 8 year mark this upcoming January (2013) and he has until January 2015 to be selected for Staff Sergeant. Since the Staff Board only comes around once a year, that means he has the 2013 and 2014 board to be selected for Staff. And here I was thinking he only had 2013 for some reason. Thankfully my husband has a great fit rep with 'retain and promote' across the boards from all of us superiors. All of his superiors truly think that he has great potential and will have no problem being selected for Staff once he's in zone.
So, why should I worry? These same people told him if he didn't lose weight he'd be kicked out of the Marine Corps on his ass without anyone giving him a second glance. They've always given him the least favorable outcome of any situation he's in. So, if they're telling him they are positive he will be promoted and retained for re-enlistment... why am I freaking out?
Not to mention thankfully my husband's job can be done as a civilian contractor so it's not like he has to get out and start all over again if by some chance he doesn't end up picking up like so many other Marines have to.
So, starting today I'm not worrying about it anymore. We are going to hope for the best and work for the best, but plan for the future. By the time January 2015 rolls around we intend to have at least 3-4 months pay in savings to have some cushion to fall back on in case he does end up getting out, and while he's in school this year for his new MOS he plans to talk to some of the people in charge of hiring civilian contractors so he can start working on a back up plan.
I'm honestly relieved. I've always been one that obsessively worries, especially since having my children, but this just really takes a load off my shoulders. Getting out will not be the end of our world IF it happens.
Now, I just need to stop wanting to obsessively look up houses near Lejeune... I'm hoping and praying and crossing my fingers and toes that we end up back there after MOS school. I love North Carolina. Not that I hate California, but it's so far away from home, and in Twentynine Palms there's really not much to do unless you want to drive at least an hour and some change. At least at Lejeune Johnathon's family is 5 hours away and my family is around 12. Totally doable so we both can see our families way more often then once a year. And, as weird as it sounds, I can't wait to [hopefully] make that nice long drive from CA to NC. Johnathon and I had a ton of fun stopping at all the sites along the way and we'd love to share that with our kids too.
Speaking of kids... I can hear my name being called now. Toodles.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Monday, July 16, 2012
I keep forgetting about this thing...
But I'm feeling the need to start blogging and venting and talking about things that I don't necessarily want all over my facebook. I already get enough crap from people for openly talking about my views on breastfeeding, circumcision, and vaccinating that I don't need to get crap from people for how I've been feeling lately.
After I had Tristian I suffered from PPD for about a year. When he was around 10 months we found out we were expecting again and I think the hope of a vaginal birth helped me overcome it. I could do it! I WILL do it! Ya know? Sometimes positive thinking can do amazing things for you.
Then, I went in for my 40 week appointment with Kellen and BAM. Pre-eclampsia. Unfortunately for me, he needed OUT for his safety and mine, and since I was 0cm/0% Johnathon and I decided the safest thing for us was to have a repeat c-section rather than be induced and risk an emergency situation that the naval hospital possibly couldn't handle.
I went into it knowing what to expect- the tugging, the pulling, the pressure. This time was different though because I was not only on magnesium, but my nurse decided to give me fentanyl to calm me down or something (I'm not 100% sure why- I was already pretty loopy and out of it from the mag. I couldn't even walk to the OR). I just remembered my doctor's soothing words talking to me through the procedure and my husband holding my hand and telling me it would be okay because Kellen would be here soon and we'd both be healthy and happy and safe. And he was- he was a beautiful baby boy, super healthy, and I was overjoyed. He was a breastfeeding champ right from the start and we suffered no complications from surgery.
Recovering from the c-section physically was about the same as the first one. Extremely painful, I felt like my insides were going to fall out, I couldn't do anything but nurse, and just walking to the bathroom took forever. I kept telling myself that I was okay, it would be over soon, and once again, at least breastfeeding had gone "right". My body still has the horrendous amount of loose skin from my first pregnancy, but I expected that. I have come to peace with the body my children have given me and just look forward to my abdominoplasty sometime in the future when we decide that we are done having biological children.
Now, here I am almost 9 months later and just like it is each month on the 18th, I'm feeling sad. I don't think I have PPD again because I'm not constantly depressed like I was after Tristian, this feeling just comes and goes. I think seeing What to Expect When You're Expecting this last weekend and seeing the births, and then being with a friend as she had a beautiful medication free birth a couple weeks ago has just reminded me on what I missed out on.
I really think it's something that a lot of women don't understand unless they've had a c-section, and even then sometimes other c-section mommas don't quite understand because it doesn't bother them that they had a c-section. For the record, I do place value on birthing the way God, Mother Nature, or whoever intended. Our bodies were made to miraculously birth our offspring! Yes, thank goodness for modern medicine when it's needed. I'm thankful that mine safely brought my children into this life. I don't hate c-sections/interventions at all. I really wanted to get to experience that beautiful bond when your baby is placed on your chest and you get to look at them and you are the first thing they see. My heart physically aches when I recount both of my sons births and remember that their first warm touch came from a warmer. That the first thing they saw when they opened their eyes was a corpsman roughly cleaning them with a towel. That I didn't even get to hold them until an hour or so after they were born. To some moms, that stuff might just be small details and not all that important in the grand scheme of things. But is it really that bad that it's important to me?
I really feel judged sometimes because I'm not one of those moms that proudly talks about how all she wanted was a healthy baby no matter how they came into this world. Yes, let me clarify, my baby's health is the number one priority. But, what about mom? Are we not allowed to want to be emotionally satisfied without being labeled as selfish, ridiculous, or other insults I've heard slung around about this issue? I try to live my life with no regrets, but this is where I struggle. Tristian's c-section was not medically necessary at all. A big part of me wishes that I had told the doctor no, and either went home or attempted an induction. Maybe then Kellen's wouldn't have had to happen. Part of me blames myself- what did I do to develop pre-eclampsia? Is it something I did? I feel like a failure, like my body just failed me. And I just feel like no one understands that. Maybe it's just because today's society and medical providers place little to no value on natural birth whether it's a medicated or not medicated birth. I don't know. All I know is that this issue shouldn't be kept hidden because I've spoken to many mothers that feel blindsided by the negative feelings from their c-section and feel ashamed, and that shouldn't have to happen to anyone. We should all be informed of the good and the bad, and it seems no one (but me) cares to share the bad. I'll probably stop from now on anyway, because I don't think it does any good.
I hope to get out of this funk soon. On the bright side, I've found a doula training workshop that's not too far away in October that Johnathon wants me to do so I can officially start my journey with helping mothers with birth in addition to breastfeeding. I am excited to learn new things and get some hands on training. Even if I never take on clients, I really feel that knowing more will empower me to attempt a VBA2C when we decide to have our third baby.
I can't believe how fast time is flying. Tristian is 2 years 4 months and Kellen is just days shy of 9 months. It feels like only recently I even got married, let alone gave birth to two beautiful babies! I love watching them grow every day and learn new things. Tristian has been talking up a storm picking up new words daily, and he's really becoming more and more independent each day. Kellen so far says three words- mama, dada, and nunu (nurse). Trying so hard to crawl, but I have the feeling that'll be happening very soon. I just look at my two boys and can't believe how lucky I am to get to be their mama. <3
After I had Tristian I suffered from PPD for about a year. When he was around 10 months we found out we were expecting again and I think the hope of a vaginal birth helped me overcome it. I could do it! I WILL do it! Ya know? Sometimes positive thinking can do amazing things for you.
Then, I went in for my 40 week appointment with Kellen and BAM. Pre-eclampsia. Unfortunately for me, he needed OUT for his safety and mine, and since I was 0cm/0% Johnathon and I decided the safest thing for us was to have a repeat c-section rather than be induced and risk an emergency situation that the naval hospital possibly couldn't handle.
I went into it knowing what to expect- the tugging, the pulling, the pressure. This time was different though because I was not only on magnesium, but my nurse decided to give me fentanyl to calm me down or something (I'm not 100% sure why- I was already pretty loopy and out of it from the mag. I couldn't even walk to the OR). I just remembered my doctor's soothing words talking to me through the procedure and my husband holding my hand and telling me it would be okay because Kellen would be here soon and we'd both be healthy and happy and safe. And he was- he was a beautiful baby boy, super healthy, and I was overjoyed. He was a breastfeeding champ right from the start and we suffered no complications from surgery.
Recovering from the c-section physically was about the same as the first one. Extremely painful, I felt like my insides were going to fall out, I couldn't do anything but nurse, and just walking to the bathroom took forever. I kept telling myself that I was okay, it would be over soon, and once again, at least breastfeeding had gone "right". My body still has the horrendous amount of loose skin from my first pregnancy, but I expected that. I have come to peace with the body my children have given me and just look forward to my abdominoplasty sometime in the future when we decide that we are done having biological children.
Now, here I am almost 9 months later and just like it is each month on the 18th, I'm feeling sad. I don't think I have PPD again because I'm not constantly depressed like I was after Tristian, this feeling just comes and goes. I think seeing What to Expect When You're Expecting this last weekend and seeing the births, and then being with a friend as she had a beautiful medication free birth a couple weeks ago has just reminded me on what I missed out on.
I really think it's something that a lot of women don't understand unless they've had a c-section, and even then sometimes other c-section mommas don't quite understand because it doesn't bother them that they had a c-section. For the record, I do place value on birthing the way God, Mother Nature, or whoever intended. Our bodies were made to miraculously birth our offspring! Yes, thank goodness for modern medicine when it's needed. I'm thankful that mine safely brought my children into this life. I don't hate c-sections/interventions at all. I really wanted to get to experience that beautiful bond when your baby is placed on your chest and you get to look at them and you are the first thing they see. My heart physically aches when I recount both of my sons births and remember that their first warm touch came from a warmer. That the first thing they saw when they opened their eyes was a corpsman roughly cleaning them with a towel. That I didn't even get to hold them until an hour or so after they were born. To some moms, that stuff might just be small details and not all that important in the grand scheme of things. But is it really that bad that it's important to me?
I really feel judged sometimes because I'm not one of those moms that proudly talks about how all she wanted was a healthy baby no matter how they came into this world. Yes, let me clarify, my baby's health is the number one priority. But, what about mom? Are we not allowed to want to be emotionally satisfied without being labeled as selfish, ridiculous, or other insults I've heard slung around about this issue? I try to live my life with no regrets, but this is where I struggle. Tristian's c-section was not medically necessary at all. A big part of me wishes that I had told the doctor no, and either went home or attempted an induction. Maybe then Kellen's wouldn't have had to happen. Part of me blames myself- what did I do to develop pre-eclampsia? Is it something I did? I feel like a failure, like my body just failed me. And I just feel like no one understands that. Maybe it's just because today's society and medical providers place little to no value on natural birth whether it's a medicated or not medicated birth. I don't know. All I know is that this issue shouldn't be kept hidden because I've spoken to many mothers that feel blindsided by the negative feelings from their c-section and feel ashamed, and that shouldn't have to happen to anyone. We should all be informed of the good and the bad, and it seems no one (but me) cares to share the bad. I'll probably stop from now on anyway, because I don't think it does any good.
I hope to get out of this funk soon. On the bright side, I've found a doula training workshop that's not too far away in October that Johnathon wants me to do so I can officially start my journey with helping mothers with birth in addition to breastfeeding. I am excited to learn new things and get some hands on training. Even if I never take on clients, I really feel that knowing more will empower me to attempt a VBA2C when we decide to have our third baby.
I can't believe how fast time is flying. Tristian is 2 years 4 months and Kellen is just days shy of 9 months. It feels like only recently I even got married, let alone gave birth to two beautiful babies! I love watching them grow every day and learn new things. Tristian has been talking up a storm picking up new words daily, and he's really becoming more and more independent each day. Kellen so far says three words- mama, dada, and nunu (nurse). Trying so hard to crawl, but I have the feeling that'll be happening very soon. I just look at my two boys and can't believe how lucky I am to get to be their mama. <3
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
The Making of a Marine Wife
The good Lord was creating a model for military wives and was into his sixth day of overtime when an angel appeared. She said, "Lord, you seem to be having a lot of trouble with this one. What's wrong with the standard model?"
The Lord replied, "Have you seen the specks on this order? She has to be completely independent, possess the qualities of both father and mother, be a perfect hostess to four or 40 with an hour's notice, run on black coffee, handle every emergency imaginable without a manual, be able to carry on cheerfully even if she is pregnant and has the flu, and be willing to move to a new location 10 times in 17 years. And, oh, yes, she must have six pairs of hands."
The angel shook her head. "Six pairs of hands." The Lord continued, "Don't worry, we will make other military wives to help her. And we will give her an unusually strong heart so it can swell with pride in her husband's achievements, sustain the pain of separations, beat soundly when it is overworked and tired, and be large enough to say 'I understand' when she doesn't and say 'I love you' regardless."
"Lord," said the angel, touching his arm gently, "go to bed and get some rest. You can finish this tomorrow."
"I can't stop now," said the Lord. "I am so close to creating something unique. Already this model heals herself when she is sick, can put up six unexpected guests for the weekend, wave goodbye to her husband from a pier, a runway, or a depot, and understand why it's important that he leave."
The angel circled the model of the military wife, looked at it closely and sighed. "It looks fine, but it's too soft."
"She might look soft," replied the Lord, "but she has the strength of a lion. You would not believe what she can endure."
Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the Lord's creation. "There's a leak," she announced. "Something is wrong with the construction, I am not surprised that it has cracked. You are trying to put too much on this model."
The Lord appeared offended at the angel's lack of confidence, "What you see is not a leak." he said, "It's a tear."
"A tear? What is it there for?" asked the angel. The Lord replied, "It's for joy, sadness, pain, disappointment, loneliness, pride and a dedication to all the values that she and her husband hold dear."
"You are a genius!" exclaimed the angel. The Lord looked puzzled and replied, "I didn't put it there."
The angel shook her head. "Six pairs of hands." The Lord continued, "Don't worry, we will make other military wives to help her. And we will give her an unusually strong heart so it can swell with pride in her husband's achievements, sustain the pain of separations, beat soundly when it is overworked and tired, and be large enough to say 'I understand' when she doesn't and say 'I love you' regardless."
"Lord," said the angel, touching his arm gently, "go to bed and get some rest. You can finish this tomorrow."
"I can't stop now," said the Lord. "I am so close to creating something unique. Already this model heals herself when she is sick, can put up six unexpected guests for the weekend, wave goodbye to her husband from a pier, a runway, or a depot, and understand why it's important that he leave."
The angel circled the model of the military wife, looked at it closely and sighed. "It looks fine, but it's too soft."
"She might look soft," replied the Lord, "but she has the strength of a lion. You would not believe what she can endure."
Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the Lord's creation. "There's a leak," she announced. "Something is wrong with the construction, I am not surprised that it has cracked. You are trying to put too much on this model."
The Lord appeared offended at the angel's lack of confidence, "What you see is not a leak." he said, "It's a tear."
"A tear? What is it there for?" asked the angel. The Lord replied, "It's for joy, sadness, pain, disappointment, loneliness, pride and a dedication to all the values that she and her husband hold dear."
"You are a genius!" exclaimed the angel. The Lord looked puzzled and replied, "I didn't put it there."
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