Baby of May / Staying low ...

To top it off on the stress load my Mom is criticizing me for not being more open and telling everyone that I was on my way to the hospital for a possible miscarriage. Yes let’s have Christy loss it with family she talks with maybe quarterly.

Still at the hospital I am informed that my Dad, that is separated from my Mom and getting stranger and stranger since his brain injury is going to meet us at the house after she picks me up from the hospital. Yes I said picks me up. We certainly couldn’t have the kids running about the hospital while she holds my hand. I love her and even like her but to console me during me deepest hour was just not something I could receive nor is it something she can really give. History doesn’t lie. We leak but never cry, smile rather than scream and grip the seat to pounding our fists.

Baby of May / It's a new day ...

The Hospital stay wasn’t really all that bad. We did what made sense. The kids were safe with mom and I knew they were in a better place than by my side. I’m a Mom not only to my baby of May but to Kay and Reye.

Baby of May / Dad’s visit came out good…

Support is found in the smiles of my children.

Thanks to Mom and Dad.

Baby of May / Watch, wait and PRAY!!!

Image via Wikipedia

Going to the bathroom became an investigation. Is this a clot, no just a stringy bloody thing. No, I don’t see any tissue on the tissue. Stand up investigate the commode. Four days of checking and praying. Sometimes just to numb to pray and not knowing what to pray. For what’s best, no I just wanted it to be over as usual just let the baby be fine or let’s move on.

Baby of May / The truly happy times…

Greg, Laura, Michael, David, Danielle, Kay & Reye

Baby of May / Happy in the mist of lonely tears…

Image by Chrstopher via Flickr

I felt like a run away train on a mission of family and fun, but “by the way I am still bleeding today”. We went to the museum, the park, down town Indpls., a health fare and just talked about life. My potential miscarriage was but an item on the menu. Maturity, stupidity, survival who’s to say. I think my “Happy Face” says is all. It just sucks.

Baby of May / Help, but only if you want to…

If we only appeared this small in times of need. Rejection, criticism, flat out refusal cause me to ask for help in a soft voice. Physical burden in times of physical pain is often easier to carry than the rejection from a loved one. My mom was willing to help but I had to ask each time. Jokes were told at my expense. “Well I guess I can change his diapers.” and “We will find a way to get you home if you have real problems.” I didn’t even ask for me and the kids to stay longer but I knew that I would be airlifted at any expense. But all in good fun. What is the reason for such joking?