You feed your kid McDonald's? Shame on you.
You didn't breastfeed? Oh, wow. Don't you realize how many nutrients are in breast milk and how good it is for the attachment process?
Gogurts? Oh, my gosh...so much dye & sugar, it's hardly worth it.
You work? Oh, wow that must be so hard to leave your kids every day. I could never do that.
Stay at home mommy? Oh, you're so lucky. I just could never do it.
You nursed until he was 4? Aren't you afraid you're going to damage his self-confidence?
Oh, the mommy wars seem to be extremely heated these days. Is it the fact that so many mommies are blogging? Facebooking? Tweeting? And if the answer is yes, maybe they should refer back to my blog post about trying to be a "hands free" mama anyway.
But some mommies are blogging to make money as a way to supplement their family's income. And so part of the way that they make money is how many "clicks" they get on their page. It would only be natural for them to want to spark some controversy with their posts to get more people clicking on their pages. Once things go viral everyone has an opinion.
But why are mommies declaring war on each other? I read a facebook post today about Gogurt. Yes, the cute little tubes of yogurt that we hand our kids because they can eat it on the go and fairly independently. One mom posted that it "makes lazy parents feel like they are giving their kids something healthy".
Wait, what?
You just called all of us who have Gogurts in our refrigerators "lazy".
And that comment sparked a whole thread with about 100 comments. Craziness.
Why are mommies breaking each other down instead of building each other up?
It seems like we're in competition. My kid started walking at 10 months. Billy started talking at 3 months.... *cough* *!)#* crap *.
When I was at Ethan's kindergarten screening I was listening to the conversations around me. These parents were watching their kids like a hawk during the screenings to see what they could or couldn't do.
"Oh, did you see her?" "She missed catching the ball twice. Poor thing she must be having some gross motor delays". WHAT?
She missed the freaking ball while 100 parents are sitting watching and she's being evaluated by strangers? Maybe she was just nervous. Maybe she looked the other way when the ball was coming.
SIGH.
I have to admit, I worried about certain things with Ethan. He was my preemie. I still worry more about him than I do Reese. He's my sensitive guy. Reese cries for a second and she's fine. But I was concerned about him not walking right away. I still feel he was a late walker at about 15 months but then I was talking to a mom today and all three of her girls were 14-18 months.
It reminded me once again that I need to stick to my line of thinking that each kid is different and grows at their own pace. Ethan will be on the younger side of his classmates. He literally just turned 5, where some of them have been 5 since last September.
And I also don't want to take part in mommy wars. I can be passionate about certain things. I can voice my opinion but I sure hope I do it respectfully and tastefully. If I don't do that, please call me out on it.
And a side not to all of those mommies who were able to breast feed your kids: Just because someone didn't, doesn't mean that it was a CHOICE for them. I had no choice in the matter. I had surgery 2 weeks after Ethan was born and started chemotherapy 2 weeks after that. So, while I am 100% an advocate for breast feeding your child if you can, just keep in mind those unique circumstances in which some mom's had no choice in the matter.
I was planning on nursing Reese. Had every intention, even with just one breast. However, I let my post partum craziness/feelings get the better of me. I didn't want to fail. I also felt that it wouldn't be fair to Ethan if I was able to breastfeed Reese. I know, I know. He would have never known. They were my own fears that I had to deal with and instead of sucking it up and just moving forward, I chose to take the "easier" route.
Mommies: Let's stop judging and cutting one another down. Let's build each other up, encourage those in times of need and give each other a break.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Monday, May 14, 2012
5 years ago
I wrote this last week and saved it. I am posting it before Ethan's birthday and the "anniversary" of my cancer diagnosis. Why? Because at the end of this week my little boy will be graduating pre-school, going on his field trip for school, having his 5th birthday party and celebrating. I want to be there for him fully (physically and emotionally); so I am thinking about all of this ahead of time.
Keep my in your prayers if you will. I realized yesterday at church (when the message was on "Moments") that 5 years ago everything happened on a Friday, Saturday, Sunday combo....it is the same this year. Exact same dates. It might be too easy to fall into remembering that.....so your prayers are appreciated! Thank you for all of your support!
Dear Ethan,
After you were born I was encouraged by many to write you a letter describing the various events that took place a few days before you were born as well as several months after you were born.
I am now just getting around to writing you that letter. Not because it wasn't important to me. But just the opposite. It is extremely important to me. So important that I haven't been able to find the words to write this letter until now.
Every attempt to write this letter before now has left me sitting at the keyboard sobbing. Getting choked up. In fact, just typing those words has once again left a nice little lump in my throat.
You see, even though it has been five years it is still as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. The sounds, the feelings, where I was standing, sitting and pacing back and forth. I can still picture your dad standing by the big window of our tiny house calling our close friends and family to tell them that you were arriving a whopping 5 weeks earlier than we had anticipated.
We were overjoyed to know that we were going to meet you sooner but we were scared to death of why.
My sweet, generous, curious little boy: Your mama was diagnosed with Stage 3 breast cancer just a few weeks before your due date. I was, before this diagnosis, the "epitomy" of health. I had never broken a bone, never been hospitalized & had only had small bouts of illnesses that I easily recovered from. One night laying in bed I felt something abnormal in my breast and mentioned it to your dad. I then called your grandma who assured me that things change with pregnancy but that I definitely should mention it to the doctor the next time I went in.
The doctor didn't like how the lump felt and sent me for a breast ultrasound. That's when things started getting scary. At not quite 34 years old I was sent for my first mammogram. You'll understand what this is when you get older but it's a test to check for cancer or other abnormalities. Usually doctors recommend that you start getting them when you turn 40. So I was pretty nervous that they wanted me to get one when I was 33 and 8 months pregnant with you!
At my next pre-natal visit to check on you, the doctor discussed the results with me and told me that the lump was "suspicious" and that we needed to immediately make an appointment with a surgeon.
Your dad and I were completely shocked at this point. We weren't prepared for the word "suspicious". We really thought that everything was going to be fine.
So, we apprehensively called the surgeon and made an appointment. After an exam on the morning of May 18, 2007 the surgeon decided to do a core biopsy of the lump right at his office. It was a Friday morning and he wanted to get the biopsy over to the hospital to be looked at right away. I remember him getting on the phone with the hospital and yelling at them that they needed to get this biopsy looked at asap because he had a young, pregnant lady waiting for her results! After the biopsy your dad and I left the doctor's office in a daze. We stopped and fed our fear with Culver's (can you tell I remember every single detail?).
We walked into the house and just a few minutes later got a call from the surgeon. He asked us why we left the office and we told him that the nurse told us to because she didn't think we would hear anything until after the weekend. He then said that he hated to tell us what he had to tell us over the phone.
My heart dropped. His words became mush in my ears. My eyes are stinging right now remembering. Time slowed yet it didn't. It was as if it was happening to someone else.
And then that word............................ Cancer.
I think I might have blacked out for a brief period (not really, but that's what it felt like). And then my OB/GYN was getting on the phone. I snapped back into reality.
Now, they weren't just talking about me but they were talking about you. My baby.
They wanted to induce labor so that they could figure out the next steps for my treatment and surgery.
So many questions were circling through my head but I couldn't find the words. Your daddy took the reins on that one. Will the baby be ok? Is it too early? What will the risks be?
We were assured that you would be fine. We were told to go to the hospital that evening to start the induction process. To take our time....but not really. They wanted us there that night and it was already 4pm or so.
We hung up. And I sobbed. Those heart-wrenching, breath caught in your throat sobs. Your dad wrapped me in his arms but he had his own emotions he was dealing with as well.
Your Grandpa and Grandma, Grammy and Papa all rushed to be with us. They stayed for awhile but went home because we knew you weren't ready to come just yet. They came back the next day as did so many of our friends and family to support us. God lifted us up through that crazy time and He assured us that you would be ok!
You made your appearance into this world at 2:22am on Sunday, May 20th. It was a long labor but when it was time to push you made it pretty easy on your mama :-). Three pushes and you were out! We all held our breath as we waited to hear your cry and to make sure you were ok. And you were. Even at 5 weeks early you were 6lbs. 0oz. and 19 inches long. You were perfect.
Mommy and Daddy got to love on you and settle in with you before the doctors started working on me. I had surgery to remove the cancer on June 1st, 2007. During the surgery the doctors checked to see if the cancer spread into the lymph nodes or anywhere else. They described it as a miracle that it had not. Did you hear that, Ethan? It was a miracle! I want you to remember that. You are mama's miracle.
And I also want you to realize that you saved my life. Yep. That's how I see it.
The cancer was already there but when I became pregnant the hormones from the pregnancy made the lump grow and I was able to detect it and feel it on my own. If I hadn't become pregnant, I could still be walking around today not knowing that the cancer was growing inside of me.
You helped me find it and then I was able to get treated in time.
I won't lie or "sugar coat" things for you. If the cancer had spread I might not be here writing this to you today. It might have been too late to do anything.
But a MIRACLE occurred.
It wasn't easy having to go through chemotherapy or radiation treatments, but I would gladly go through all of that again if it meant that I could have decades more as your mama. I have now been "cancer free" for 5 years. It's a significant milestone. Is it a guarantee that I will never have to battle that war again? No. It could come back any time. But cancer is MOST likely to reoccur within the first five years.
You and your sister mean more to me than anything else in this world (besides your dad)! I love you both with all of my heart. I will never take being your mama for granted. It's not always easy, but I wouldn't change it for the world.
So, why this letter? Because I want you to know your history and how you came into the world. Because it's your story too, not just mine. I also want you to know that you and your sister are mommy's miracles. Don't ever let anyone tell you that miracles don't happen anymore. They do. And now with this letter you have proof.
Ethan James Shepard, Happy 5th Birthday! You are loved!!!!
Keep my in your prayers if you will. I realized yesterday at church (when the message was on "Moments") that 5 years ago everything happened on a Friday, Saturday, Sunday combo....it is the same this year. Exact same dates. It might be too easy to fall into remembering that.....so your prayers are appreciated! Thank you for all of your support!
Dear Ethan,
After you were born I was encouraged by many to write you a letter describing the various events that took place a few days before you were born as well as several months after you were born.
I am now just getting around to writing you that letter. Not because it wasn't important to me. But just the opposite. It is extremely important to me. So important that I haven't been able to find the words to write this letter until now.
Every attempt to write this letter before now has left me sitting at the keyboard sobbing. Getting choked up. In fact, just typing those words has once again left a nice little lump in my throat.
You see, even though it has been five years it is still as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. The sounds, the feelings, where I was standing, sitting and pacing back and forth. I can still picture your dad standing by the big window of our tiny house calling our close friends and family to tell them that you were arriving a whopping 5 weeks earlier than we had anticipated.
We were overjoyed to know that we were going to meet you sooner but we were scared to death of why.
My sweet, generous, curious little boy: Your mama was diagnosed with Stage 3 breast cancer just a few weeks before your due date. I was, before this diagnosis, the "epitomy" of health. I had never broken a bone, never been hospitalized & had only had small bouts of illnesses that I easily recovered from. One night laying in bed I felt something abnormal in my breast and mentioned it to your dad. I then called your grandma who assured me that things change with pregnancy but that I definitely should mention it to the doctor the next time I went in.
The doctor didn't like how the lump felt and sent me for a breast ultrasound. That's when things started getting scary. At not quite 34 years old I was sent for my first mammogram. You'll understand what this is when you get older but it's a test to check for cancer or other abnormalities. Usually doctors recommend that you start getting them when you turn 40. So I was pretty nervous that they wanted me to get one when I was 33 and 8 months pregnant with you!
At my next pre-natal visit to check on you, the doctor discussed the results with me and told me that the lump was "suspicious" and that we needed to immediately make an appointment with a surgeon.
Your dad and I were completely shocked at this point. We weren't prepared for the word "suspicious". We really thought that everything was going to be fine.
So, we apprehensively called the surgeon and made an appointment. After an exam on the morning of May 18, 2007 the surgeon decided to do a core biopsy of the lump right at his office. It was a Friday morning and he wanted to get the biopsy over to the hospital to be looked at right away. I remember him getting on the phone with the hospital and yelling at them that they needed to get this biopsy looked at asap because he had a young, pregnant lady waiting for her results! After the biopsy your dad and I left the doctor's office in a daze. We stopped and fed our fear with Culver's (can you tell I remember every single detail?).
We walked into the house and just a few minutes later got a call from the surgeon. He asked us why we left the office and we told him that the nurse told us to because she didn't think we would hear anything until after the weekend. He then said that he hated to tell us what he had to tell us over the phone.
My heart dropped. His words became mush in my ears. My eyes are stinging right now remembering. Time slowed yet it didn't. It was as if it was happening to someone else.
And then that word............................ Cancer.
I think I might have blacked out for a brief period (not really, but that's what it felt like). And then my OB/GYN was getting on the phone. I snapped back into reality.
Now, they weren't just talking about me but they were talking about you. My baby.
They wanted to induce labor so that they could figure out the next steps for my treatment and surgery.
So many questions were circling through my head but I couldn't find the words. Your daddy took the reins on that one. Will the baby be ok? Is it too early? What will the risks be?
We were assured that you would be fine. We were told to go to the hospital that evening to start the induction process. To take our time....but not really. They wanted us there that night and it was already 4pm or so.
We hung up. And I sobbed. Those heart-wrenching, breath caught in your throat sobs. Your dad wrapped me in his arms but he had his own emotions he was dealing with as well.
Your Grandpa and Grandma, Grammy and Papa all rushed to be with us. They stayed for awhile but went home because we knew you weren't ready to come just yet. They came back the next day as did so many of our friends and family to support us. God lifted us up through that crazy time and He assured us that you would be ok!
You made your appearance into this world at 2:22am on Sunday, May 20th. It was a long labor but when it was time to push you made it pretty easy on your mama :-). Three pushes and you were out! We all held our breath as we waited to hear your cry and to make sure you were ok. And you were. Even at 5 weeks early you were 6lbs. 0oz. and 19 inches long. You were perfect.
Mommy and Daddy got to love on you and settle in with you before the doctors started working on me. I had surgery to remove the cancer on June 1st, 2007. During the surgery the doctors checked to see if the cancer spread into the lymph nodes or anywhere else. They described it as a miracle that it had not. Did you hear that, Ethan? It was a miracle! I want you to remember that. You are mama's miracle.
And I also want you to realize that you saved my life. Yep. That's how I see it.
The cancer was already there but when I became pregnant the hormones from the pregnancy made the lump grow and I was able to detect it and feel it on my own. If I hadn't become pregnant, I could still be walking around today not knowing that the cancer was growing inside of me.
You helped me find it and then I was able to get treated in time.
I won't lie or "sugar coat" things for you. If the cancer had spread I might not be here writing this to you today. It might have been too late to do anything.
But a MIRACLE occurred.
It wasn't easy having to go through chemotherapy or radiation treatments, but I would gladly go through all of that again if it meant that I could have decades more as your mama. I have now been "cancer free" for 5 years. It's a significant milestone. Is it a guarantee that I will never have to battle that war again? No. It could come back any time. But cancer is MOST likely to reoccur within the first five years.
You and your sister mean more to me than anything else in this world (besides your dad)! I love you both with all of my heart. I will never take being your mama for granted. It's not always easy, but I wouldn't change it for the world.
So, why this letter? Because I want you to know your history and how you came into the world. Because it's your story too, not just mine. I also want you to know that you and your sister are mommy's miracles. Don't ever let anyone tell you that miracles don't happen anymore. They do. And now with this letter you have proof.
Ethan James Shepard, Happy 5th Birthday! You are loved!!!!
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Missing the Moments
I have been convicted of something huge as of late. It seems to be finding me everywhere.
Blog posts. Articles. Facebook links. Stories from strangers.
It's about missing the moments with your children. Taking your time with them for granted. Becoming "unplugged" and "hands free" if you will.
Our generation is so "connected" all the time now. We have our smart phones in our pockets, on the dinner table and in our hands even when we should be talking to our kids, playing with them or telling our spouse about our day.
I am guilty of it. Not all of the time, but there have been plenty of times when the "I'm going to take a picture of that cute thing Ethan just did" turns into a half hour long checking in with Facebook and reading my emails.
When in reality I should be fully present with my children. All of the time.
And so in the past few days I have committed to leaving my cell phone inside when I am outside playing with kids.
Wait, what? What if something happens? How will you call for help? Then you can't snap that quick picture of Reese running after the bunnies in the yard. OH. WELL.
My parents didn't have cell phones back when they were raising my brother and I. We turned out ok, I think. :-)
I have also been made painfully aware that I should not take my time for granted with my children. And it has hit me full force after reading several blogs of mothers who have lost their children WAY too early in life.
Last night I left my phone in the house and worked with Ethan on riding his bike without the training wheels. We both got hurt, we both laughed, we both cried and guess what? I don't have a single picture of that time together.
But I have the memories of spending quality, uninterrupted, hands-free, mommying time with my boy.
These are the blogs and articles that have inspired me lately. I admit, a couple of them are hard to read. But we should to remind us of just how precious our babies are......
http://www.handsfreemama.com/2012/05/07/how-to-miss-a-childhood/
http://randycourtneytripproth.blogspot.com/
http://aninchofgray.blogspot.com/
http://erikandkatekrull.blogspot.com/
Go hug and kiss on your kiddos and stop reading my blog! :-)
Blog posts. Articles. Facebook links. Stories from strangers.
It's about missing the moments with your children. Taking your time with them for granted. Becoming "unplugged" and "hands free" if you will.
Our generation is so "connected" all the time now. We have our smart phones in our pockets, on the dinner table and in our hands even when we should be talking to our kids, playing with them or telling our spouse about our day.
I am guilty of it. Not all of the time, but there have been plenty of times when the "I'm going to take a picture of that cute thing Ethan just did" turns into a half hour long checking in with Facebook and reading my emails.
When in reality I should be fully present with my children. All of the time.
And so in the past few days I have committed to leaving my cell phone inside when I am outside playing with kids.
Wait, what? What if something happens? How will you call for help? Then you can't snap that quick picture of Reese running after the bunnies in the yard. OH. WELL.
My parents didn't have cell phones back when they were raising my brother and I. We turned out ok, I think. :-)
I have also been made painfully aware that I should not take my time for granted with my children. And it has hit me full force after reading several blogs of mothers who have lost their children WAY too early in life.
Last night I left my phone in the house and worked with Ethan on riding his bike without the training wheels. We both got hurt, we both laughed, we both cried and guess what? I don't have a single picture of that time together.
But I have the memories of spending quality, uninterrupted, hands-free, mommying time with my boy.
These are the blogs and articles that have inspired me lately. I admit, a couple of them are hard to read. But we should to remind us of just how precious our babies are......
http://www.handsfreemama.com/2012/05/07/how-to-miss-a-childhood/
http://randycourtneytripproth.blogspot.com/
http://aninchofgray.blogspot.com/
http://erikandkatekrull.blogspot.com/
Go hug and kiss on your kiddos and stop reading my blog! :-)
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