One Potato, two potato…

My poor darling daughter (dd) has been hacking her lungs up the past couple of weeks, but the doctors can’t tell for sure if she has pneumonia.  Other than the cough, she has been completely fine.  But as I lay in bed last night, thinking of all the horrible things that could go wrong with my kids and their immature bodies, I was again reminded of how much they mean to me.  So today’s post talks about kids… having them, losing them, whether to have them or not, etc.  And anyone who decides to marry me gets three for the price of one!  My darling son (ds), who’s now 11, is especially protective of me.  I sometimes feel like he’s the big brother I never had and always wanted.  J  After watching me cry a lot from broken hearts, my son told me a month or so ago, mom, I don’t think you should get married again (this ironically not long before seeing a guy I’ve been friends with a couple of years kiss me goodbye after spending a fun afternoon with him in Salt Lake).  But I think Don Queco’s death affected ds just as it affected me, but in a different way.  He didn’t cry, but dd did, which makes me even more hesitant to even date in the first place.  If I get hurt, my kids hurt too.

I consider my kids a miracle.  I had two miscarriages in between the two, and one after dd (that was twins).  Four babies waiting on the other side for me to meet them.  We put up a special angel ornament a friend made me each year on the Christmas tree, in memory.  Medically speaking, dd shouldn’t have made it because of the types of miscarriages I had (molar pregnancies) and the chances that the cells remained made her conception truly a miracle.  My mom had only my brother and I.  She lost track after about 10 miscarriages.  Her mom was the same.  And my aunt, my mom’s sister, couldn’t have any kids.  So I am truly grateful for my two potatoes, and even more so that I was blessed with one of each.  And my kids are so awesome, but I know most mothers would make the same claim.

  

My ex-husband was verbally abusive.  Actually, still is to our son (okay, to me as well).  And I’ve done enough research and had enough counseling to know that it’s not all in my head… my twisted view of reality, as he claims.  And I see how it has affected ds.  Ds is very sensitive, very articulate for his age, and has a vocabulary some adults are envious of.  During a recent battery of tests, he scored on a 7^th grade level on one of the math tests.  He struggles in spelling, writing, and reading, however.  It’s amazing what educators can learn now from testing, about how the human brain works, even in children.  To think that for children, if you really want them to remember something, you should talk in their right ear, because the left side of the brain processes that information faster and with more accuracy than the right side when you’ve spoken into their left ear.  By 13, the gap of inefficiency has closed up, but ds is a little behind.  Add this to slightly slower brain processing speed, and years of being put down and ridiculed by his dad, creates a recipe for disaster.  Therefore, I’m always on guard with men I bring around ds.  He’s not like the other boys.  Very intelligent, yes, but not into sports or the usual guy stuff.  And he’s not afraid to say exactly what he’s thinking, which makes many people uncomfortable.  Why is it, as we get older, we are so unnerved with people who speak their minds?  Isn’t it better, usually, anyway, to know what someone really thinks?  Okay, not always, but for the most part, we’re so conditioned in our society to always be polite and try to say the right thing, to not ask questions that may be too personal.  There are many times I have to tell ds, don’t worry about that, if he asks a question I really don’t think he’s ready for the answer for yet (which mostly pertains to birds and the bees type stuff).  Anyway, I have had a couple of men I dated really get unnerved around ds.  And I’m always on the lookout since I know guys tend to be more “rough and tumble”, and ds isn’t like that and gets his feelings easily hurt.  This makes it very difficult for me to want to date.  Ds is also extremely sensitive to other’s feelings and moods.  He’s usually the first one to notice if I’m down, and the first to give me a hug and try to cheer me up.  What can I say, I love his guts!  

Dd on the other hand is more like America’s sweetheart.  Everyone who meets her falls instantly in love.  From her initial out-held hand and “pleasure to meet you” to her infectious grin and laugh, she is always so much fun to be around.  She’s the sporty, outgoing one, while ds is the quiet, introverted, non-coordinated one.  Dd could hit a wiffle ball with a bat at age 2.  Ds still can’t ride a bike.  Dd gets nearly perfect grades in school, rave reviews from her teachers, and has plenty of friends.  Dd also garners much attention from her father, much to her brother’s chagrin.  I feel like I’m always trying to reassure ds of how amazing he is, since he feels so unloved from his father.  Again, something I don’t want to happen with a future spouse.  I figure it’s going to take a really special man to connect with ds, something that is imperative for me, almost as much as him loving me unconditionally.

I’ve teeter tottered on the idea of more kids.  Originally, I wanted 4-5.  Growing up, I had always wanted more brothers and sisters.  My ex also wanted a big family, as he has 5 siblings.  But now, as I get older, I seem to be more of a fence sitter.  On the one hand, church leaders advise there is nothing more important than family, and we should be careful to not let worldly aspirations get in the way of having children.  On the other, I’m 32 now.  As I get older, I’m guessing my ability to have more healthy children diminishes, based on family history.  Because of self-esteem issues I’ve been fighting most of my life, I also worry about completely losing the figure I fight so hard to maintain.  But that is a topic I’ll save for another day.   When I see new babies at church, I long to hold them, to rub my nose in their soft wafts of hair.  But then there are days where I’ve just about had it with being a single mom, and there’s no way I want to go through changing diapers, late night feedings, and not being able to understand what your baby wants again.  Of course, I have to remind myself I didn’t have a very positive experience as a married woman when I was pregnant, and I try to have hope it would be different with my knight.  That he would be supportive, doting, and love me even when I cry over spilled milk and crave chicken sandwiches for the 10^th time that week.  I pray he would never say to me a year after bearing our child, maybe we could look into getting you a boob job and a tummy tuck.  Ah, there’s an example where I wouldn’t want to know what the other person is thinking.

Yep, dating and children are tough subjects.  I’ll talk about dating more later.  But I guess when it comes down to it, and I try to let go of my fears, and place my hand in my Heavenly Father’s, I do long for more children.  During my divorce, one of the hard parts was that I felt I wasn’t done having children, so I’ve struggled even more with feelings that my family isn’t whole.  When I really get down, I always turn to my favorite scripture, which has brought me much peace and comfort over the years:

John 14:18

“I will not leave you comfortless, I will come to you.”

So to my future knight, from the deepest depths of my heart, I may sometimes worry, or get scared about the future, or whether or not I can really handle something.  I worry about whether you will actually love me… and my kids.  I need for you to be a good example to them, where there dad isn’t.  I would like to have more kids, once I sort through the fears.  But ultimately, I want to follow God’s will for me.  If that means struggling to bring more children into the world, I’ll do it.  Because I know He’ll provide a way.  I just ask that you never leave my side.  I’ll need you.  And I promise to never leave your side when you need me.