Time Heals All

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock....I can still remember my grandmothers clock ticking in the night as I laid awake in the dark strange bedroom with the funny smell of moth balls and old wood. It was a comforting sound and lulled me to sleep eventually with it's rhythm.

 TIME. Defined as 'the indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future regarded as a whole.' Time has always been a very interesting concept to me but I will spare you that speech. I am a very impatient person, a virtue I have not yet acquired in my almost 52 years on this beautiful planet. Even in my impatience though, time has passed and time has healed. The platitude 'time heals all' has never meant a thing to me and I have failed to believe that such a cliché could ever be true. I am here to share with you now that TIME DOES HEAL!

In time, with time, through time we have the opportunity to learn, grow and change. I have done just that and so have my children. It hasn't been an easy road for any of us and will continue to be burdened with bumps and bruises and even pain. I have learned to better myself and to stop trying to change others. I can only change myself. For the first time in many years I am experiencing real peace in my life. This peace, at first, felt odd and out of place. That's how long I had conditioned myself to chaos. So long that it was a while before I recognized what it was! It's been a very freeing experience. I still have days and moments when my body tries to revert back to that conditioned way of feeling and thinking but I become aware of it much quicker.

Now I'm going to be a grandmother (yahoo!!) and time has an even newer meaning. I plan on making the best of the time I have left in this world. Loving my husband, my children, my grandbabies, my life and striving for compassion and acceptance of everyone. Life is grand!   

Letting Go

Almost three years of being on an endless rollercoaster ride....no getting off at this amusement park!! Come one, come all, be a part of our house of horrors and craziness. I promise you the ride of your life!

This patron has just jumped off. I couldn't take another minute lest I go absolutely bonkers. Everything and everyone in my life were suffering. I took a risk and simply took a leap of faith. The most amazing thing is...I'm still alive.  And so are my children.

I feel a sense of peace I haven't had in years. "Letting go" is a process and one that continues on a daily basis. When it comes to your children it's one of the most difficult things to accomplish. Sitting back, watching them fail, watching them suffer. It means getting over or accepting the deep inner pain that seems to reach your very soul. They must change on their own, we have no control of anyone. When we try to "control" we become sick on so many levels. I have chosen to be healthy.

I pray for my boys throughout the day, support them when they make positive choices and tell them I love them when they don't. I also tell them they are on their own with their poor choices. I no longer will be a party to them. We all win. They grow and learn from consequences and I remain peaceful for all of us.

This is a place I must nurture daily. I am no good to anyone if I'm sick with grief and anxiety and anger and worry. So here's to me...mother, sister, wife, friend, daughter, care taker, on and on and on. I have survived and will continue my life in a peaceful place!

A Sorrow

As the anniversary of my birth looms closer (the big half century) I find myself reviewing my life as it was and as it is. I realize that at the same time as having so much joy to celebrate, I also have as much sorrow. I must say that I was not expecting this.

At the risk of sounding to negative I want to share a poem that a dear friend gave me last night. I never dreamed a topic such as this would ever be a part of my life but it has touched me and become a part of my life in many ways. It is one of the sorrows I carry.

    ' Hello, my name is DRUGS. I destroy homes,tear families apart, take your children, and that's just the start. I'm more costly than diamonds, more costly than gold, the sorrow I bring is a sight to behold, and if you meed me, remember I'm easily found, I live all around you, in schools and in town. I live with the rich, I live with the poor, I live down the street, and maybe next door. My power is awesome: try me, you"ll see, but if you do, you may NEVER break free. Just try me once and I might let you go, but try me twice and I'll own your soul. When I possess you, you'll steal and you'll lie, you'll do what you have to just to get high. The crimes you'll commit, for my narcotic charms, will be worth the pleasure you'll feel in my arms. you'll lie to your mother, steal from your dad, when you see their tears, you should feel sad. But you'll forget your morals and how you were raised, I'll be your conscience, I'll teach you my ways. I take kids from parents, and parents from kids, I turn people from God, and separate friends. I'll take everything from you, your looks and your pride, I'll be with you always, right by your side. You'll give up everything...your family, your home...your friends, your money, then you'll be alone. I'll take and I'll take, till you have nothing more to give, when I'm finished with you, you'll be lucky to live................You'll regret that you tried me, they always do, but you came to me, not I to you. you knew this would happen, many times you were told, but you challenged my power, and chose to be bold. You could have said no, and just walked away, if you could live that day over, now what would you say? I'll be your master, you'll be my slave, I'll even go with when you go to your grave. Now that you've met me, what will you do? Will you try me or not? It's all up to you. I can bring you more misery than words can tell. Come, take my hand, I'll take you to hell!' 
    
    Author Unknown

 



 

Jubilee

 Jubilee! A time for rejoicing.

Jubilee Youth Ranch has given us a reason to rejoice, recoup, and regroup. A blessed haven amidst rolling golden hills and thousands of acres of apple orchards. A blessed haven run by humans of amazing compassion and heart
.
 A home of up to sixty problemed young men from varied backgrounds.
Boys involved in gang activities, some from abusive homes, some with no living parents or parents who no longer want them. Most involved in crime and drugs. Many who are truly a product of their upbringings and others with loving families with the inability to function in society without hurting themselves.

This is where my son has resided now for nearly eight months. His time there has been full of many up and downs. He has run away at least seven times, has actually been released from the program for dangerous behavior and taken back again. He has gone from level zero to level four in record time at least twice. This, I'm told, is unheard of. He is now ahead in school, will start playing baseball with the local high school and has earned privileges to go snowboarding.

On our last visit he informed us that he's ready to get his life in order. "I really want to change this time." He's opening up to a psychologist on a weekly basis and participates openly in group therapy on a daily basis. Does he still struggle? You bet he does, but 'Rome wasn't built in a day' and habits die hard. Changing thought patterns and  trying to be less reactive take practice, patience and support.

I thank Jubilee from the bottom of my heart for loving my son enough to never give up on him!

I am rejoicing!

.

 

Circle of Life

Silly thing. I was cleaning the bathroom that was once shared by my three boys. I looked up to see four photos I hadn't payed attention to for a very long time. In seconds tears began to flow.

 Memories of happy times with my angels flooded back. Days where sweet innocence filled their hearts and souls, days where mom and dad were the "bees knees", days when dramas occurred because of sharing issues over playdoh and cartoons! I miss those days.

It brought a deep sadness to me thinking of the many struggles they now have in life. How can any of my young men carry so many deep depressing feelings of loss and hopelessness? I thought I had filled our home with laughter and love and taught them coping skills through my own actions. Why was I not told that parenting was the most difficult job I would ever experience?

 

  If you want to feel real sadness, joy, pride, torment, and the truest love that exists, become a parent.

HOPE

Here I sit, feeling peaceful for the first time in many many months. I actually feel relaxed in my own home and even in my own body.  The detachment I have felt is improving and I'm able to force myself to be social. Going for a run feels possible. I still suffer from sudden and exaggerated emotional responses to more stressful situations and even those situations which are not. When the house phone rings a panic immediately wells up inside me. You see, not many people call our land line these days. But the Ranch does.

My boy has been residing for the last two months at a Boys Youth Ranch in a very remote area. He went from Juvey directly to the Ranch after agreeing to go. He was running out of options after assault chages to myself and his step father, incarceration and being restrained for hours at a local emergency room because he was hurting himself.  The hell of all hells for a mother. It must be even a greater hell for him, one we will never truely know. To have so much hurt and pain and anxiety and hopelessness that nothing matters. A time when you cease to care about anyone or anything. Only the devil could have a hand in it. A true evil.

It wasn't until he was away in a safe place that I realized just how bad it was in our home. My husband and I were like zombies. Wandering around aimlessly just trying to get through each day. Sleepless nights, detachment,fear,anxiety,hopelessness, a complete lack of energy. All symptoms of PTSD. The months of abuse and volence and manipulation we have endured with my son have taken their tole. But there is light. There is hope.

 

Enough!!!

Once again I turned to my blog because I'm feeling hopeless. I have read through my previous posts and I am sick. Sick of being this person I have become.

 I am becoming like my son, uncaring. I can't bring myself to exercise or eat right or socialize. My sleep is restless and my drive is gone.  I need to find inner strength to pull myself out of this dark hole. I must remember that God doesn't give us more than we can handle and that what is happening holds a true blessing, somewhere. Enough is enough.

Sometimes it's barely a visible thread floating just within reach. We must grab it and NEVER LOSE HOPE.  

Sadness Wants to Follow Me to Bed Again

3am. Where do I begin? My boy has been out of the Psychiatric ward for less than 2 weeks now with a diagnoses of a behavioral disorder, ODD and Conduct Disorder and Anxiety. His first week back to school and he's been suspended for the rest of the year and 10 days into the Fall. He was drinking with a friend and got belligerent and tried to run.  He was subdued and cuffed.  Up till now he carries straight A's. Now he says he doesn't care. He's refusing the drug and alcohol assessment to reduce his sentence and he has run away. He hates me.

  It feels like a hopeless situation.  I have spent my life doing everything I felt was right and good for my boys. I have guided, set boundaries, loved, listened, cheered. I have been chauffeur, teacher, friend, doctor, counselor, mother and father, their greatest fan. I have prayed and cried till I felt there was nothing left. I have dropped to my knees in great sorrow and begged God to help them and keep them safe. I have layed awake at night listening for them to come through the door.  I have slept on their bedroom floor so I could be sure to hear them breathing when they were ill. I sacrificed much to keep our family home so they could know stability even after the departure of their father. I'm not special or great. I am a MOTHER.

The sadness and hopelessness have made their way into my heart. I am mourning and feel pain I have never felt before. I am inconsolable. 

Time Away Will Be Good For All of Us!! Famous Last Words.

Rain, Rain, Go Away.......

It's been raining for three days.  So much for day light savings time.  It has been dark all day.  And so has my mood.
I calmly told my son that until he quits drugs, follows house rules, is respectful and becomes an active member of the household that I will do nothing for him. I refuse to be battered and beaten by him.  I will give him access to all I legally am obligated to: health care,food,clothing,shelter and education. Nothing more.  He doesn't seem to bothered, although he did complain about having to make himself dinner last night. Now he sleeps on the sofa after school.  He arrived home late, stoned as usual. No explanation as to where he was.  Then again, I already know.

I feel beaten down. I have been battling a cold and fever, pulled muscles in my back and having hormonal issues. All made worse by the amount of stress we are all under.  I feel like I'm in a dark hole, slowly having the life squeezed out of me. Helpless and out of control. At the same time I have a lump deep inside my chest that is growing.  A panic that I have to do something. I just want to love him and give him a great childhood. When every word out of his mouth is a lie or an insult how is it possible?  If I give him his way then all would be peaceful. I cannot condone behaviors that are detrimental to his health and welfare, I cannot turn a blind eye and live with myself. He's actually asked me to do it.  If he's not physically addicted to pot then he is definitely psychologically addicted.  He's willing to lie, steal and sell his belongings for it. My heart is heavy.  I pray for peace. I pray for light.

No More Powerless Threats.....

Well it happened. I called 911 last night at about 2:30am. I confiscated my devil child's baggie of "perfectly fine and healthy plant life". He raged at me like a cornered animal. Lamps flew, CD's shattered, obscenities poisoned me. He got physical when I said his step dad and I were leaving the house. Out of desperation I finally followed through with my threats. A moment of pure and deep sadness for me and my husband.

 Sobbing my head off  I listened to the officers talk to him. Words of great wisdom from both of them. He played along. Because he's under 16 I had the option of sending him to the youth center or not. A part of me wished for the strength to say yes. All I could think of was his angelic face as a little boy, I didn't have the heart. Exposing him to a new kind of danger is unfathomable to me.

Once they left he continued on with his disbelief at my "stealing" from him. How could I? He behaved like a true addict, jonesing for a needed fix. So frightening. We discovered earlier in the day that two Wii's and an X-Box are missing from the house. He admitted to selling one of them and loaning one out.  The other one sprouted legs and ran away. I wouldn't blame it you know, the tension in this house you can cut with a knife. It is extremely difficult living with a liar and a thief. "Extremely difficult" doesn't even begin to describe it.

I am not sure what our next step will be. He has a new baggie of plant life tonight. We may be revisiting the Youth at Risk program. I will keep praying for peace. God help us.

I am only a ghost of a woman I used to be...

I can't tell you how lonely one feels living with a problemed teenager. I have changed a lot in the last couple of years. Today while examining my face in the mirror I saw "age" in my eyes. The exhaustion of constantly dealing with my child, the turmoil in the house, working and keeping everyone happy. I am not the happy-go-lucky woman I used to be. My sunny and positive outlook on life have been crushed. I feel like a part of me dies every day with the stress. I am a ghost of who I once was.

The boy of mine? Since his accident in December the storm has returned. He was one of three passengers in a speeding car, they were all drunk, they stole the beer, and my son didn't have his seat belt on.  Not only that, he lied, disobeyed and knowingly got into a car with a driver who was drinking. Does that sound like a person who should be allowed the right to get behind the wheel of a car.  Exactly!  That is why I tore up the contract we had allowing him to get his drivers permit.  Recently he calmly told me, "Since I can't drive now I might as well start smoking pot again." And that's exactly what he's doing.

Unfortunately marijuana doesn't work well with his system. His anxiety has returned, he's not sleeping well, he's mean, he has anger outbursts and continues to batter me with his words. The tears are coming once again as I share the recent vileness that came out of his mouth. I am a f_____ b___ wh____.  I picture his adorable little face as a toddler running around the back yard. How sweet it was. Where has all that sweetness gone? It's as if a thief came one night and ripped it from his tall skinny body. To imagine that anyone would ever call me names like he has. I have lived my entire life for him and his brothers, given all the love I have. My heart, once again, has been torn from my chest.

Will I forever remain a ghost?

Wish You Were Dead

About three days ago, while baking Christmas cookies,I realized I had not written an entry in quite a while.  I happily, with only the tiniest bit of trepidation, recognized this as a positive thing.While humming along to Johnny Mathis Christmas album, I continued to review in my little mind all the positive things that have been happening with my boy.

  He has straight A's at the Christmas break!! He has had clean drug tests for nearly four months and has had no anger, out-of-control outbursts in about the same amount of time.  We can have a decent conversation as long as I control "my tone" and he actually has a great sense of humor.  He is just one week away from fulfilling his contract to getting his drivers permit.

On the other hand.....he's involved in no sports, has no hobbies, is chewing tobacco and still insists on hanging out with "undesirables".  Let me give you an example of my definition of an "undesirable".  There's an 18 year old kid whom he often wants to go "driving around with" at odd hours of the day and night. I would think a young man at his age would have better things to do than hang out with my very immature 15 year old.  Then there's, Adam (an alias), son of a preacher, who was in rehab for heroin over the summer, is flunking every class even though he's nearly two years behind already, and is constantly wanting money from my son to drive him to school, etc.  Do these sound like kids you would want your son hanging with???

As you can see, I still have legitimate worries, but life in our house has definitely improved as the stress levels have receded.  UNTIL.......this morning at 3:33am.  The moment every parent hopes and prays will never happen.  The dreaded phone call.  "Your son is at the emergency room, he was involved in a car accident tonight." In a split second, a storm of thoughts and questions begin to swirl in your mind, the winds are  picking up speed.  This can't be, you think, he's spending the night at his friends house tonight, his dad is home. Now your heart is racing as you try to reach an acceptable state of awareness. The reality suddenly hits. OH MY GOD, IS HE DEAD! 

The answer is NO, but he's going to wish he were dead when you're finished with him!

Goodbye Calm, Hello to the Perfect Storm

Well....the calm has broken.  It has shattered loudly into a million shards, landing at my feet and in my face. Hello, once again, to the perfect storm that is my life, our life.

My delinquent son is billowing about creating a violent wind which brings anxiety, anger, hurt and frustration.  It has shattered my moment of peace.  It began oh so slowly.  First we noticed he wasn't hanging out with the "clean" kids as much.  Then not at all. He quit Lacrosse and became more belligerent and agitated.  He pushed us to give one kid, whom we'd been warned about, a chance.  After all he had been to rehab and he had no other friends.  I'm a true believer in second chances so we layed out a plan with requirements that needed to be met before we would meet him and allow my devil child to hang with him.  None of the requirements were met.  The mood was changing quickly.  Then the call from the Vice Principal at the High School.  He was caught chewing tobacco in class.  Five days suspension with three off if he wrote an essay with facts and the evils of tobacco.  He swears this was his first use of the stimulant.  I knew different.  When approached he responded vehemently.  How dare I accuse him and call him a liar. 

I admit I spent the next week or so being angry and disgusted with him.  We had agreed to honesty and openness and he was being deceitful, sneaky and disrespectful.  Well, at least he wasn't smoking pot or using other drugs, you might be thinking. This is true, of course.  The weekly drug tests have all been negative.  This is just another sign of his inherent addictive personality and/or gene that occupies his skinny little body.  It's one more feather in his cap and one more dagger to my heart.  I feel a deep intense sadness.  The knowledge that it's never going to end with him.  That he'll struggle all his life and that only HE can change that fact. The sadness that it's really out of my hands.  I have no control over my offspring, I'm watching him plummet from the nest  unassisted, not sure where he will land. Such a powerful feeling of helplessness.

He finally came to us with an admission of guilt over the tobacco. He even took it upon himself to speak with a school counselor about how to deal with this new addiction.  That was impressive.  We agreed upon a regime of nicotine gum, regulated by us, of course.  Needless to say it's not working.  At the same time his behavior continues getting uglier. I am feeling exhausted, that heavy feeling in my bones is weighing me down.  Where to next???  If anyone has an answer please, please, please share it with me!

A Break In The Storm

Ahhh.....a moment I've been praying for.  A moment I thought would never arrive.  An actual break in the raging storm!   Rays of sunshine have been poking through the dark clouds for the last 10 days or so.  It's given me time to collect myself, refresh and find a smidgen of HOPE.
My boy has come to his senses.  (For now.  Knock on wood!)  He agreed to get help with his anxiety, reluctantly.  The pediatrician is amazing with adolescents.  Blunt, in-your-face, and funny at the same time. He treats my little monster with respect at the same time telling him he's being an idiot.  He actually has some semblance of respect for him and leaves his appointments laughing and lighthearted.  A miracle!
He has on a few occasions voiced the opinion that marijuana is a better choice for treating his anxiety, it's "natural" don't you know.   At age 18 he says he'll get a green card.  I remind him that his daily pot use created more anxiety, bouts of uncontrollable anger and is illegal.  At least antidepressants are controlled.  Don't get me wrong.  I have many issues with our medical profession.  Treating just symptoms doesn't work for me.  It's all about instant gratification and most Americans are over medicated.  I believe in a more holistic approach.  Discovering what the "cause" of the problem is and fixing it.  Unfortunately my son has refused to visit his issues and address the real causes of his young anxiety-ridden life.  Out of desperation for his welfare and all of us being affected, I chose this route.
It's as if someone flipped a switch or rewired his circuits.  He's falling asleep quickly at night with no TV to babysit him.  He's been calm, somewhat respectful (we're still working on that) and has all "A's" due to his nightly regime of study.  He has stopped pestering me about hanging with the "questionable" friends and has successfully passed 5 straight weeks of drug tests. 
I am quietly celebrating my new found HOPE but I suspect this could only be the calm before another storm.  I am  cautiously watching for signs of manipulation and lying.
For the moment I am praising God and reveling in the simple pleasure of life. Now there is PEACE!!

Like a Rollercoaster!

The path of a roller coaster is the best analogy I can come up with to describe my daily life.  A very wild, out-of-control ride, with intense ups and downs and a few moments of quiet before the build-up begins again. Only this roller coaster seems to have no end.  The exhilaration and excitement of the ride are gone.  In it's place are fear, anxiety and exhaustion.
 I am in the midst of an out of control ride as I type these very words.  Another weekend nearly gone after a long week of work and nurturing my son through his first week of clean.  His anxiety has been off the charts.  We have ridden our bikes 8 miles, jogged and sprinted, drank lots of "calming" tea, given back rubs and he's taken multiple hot baths.  We've been shopping for new Lacrosse equipment and shared pastries at a local coffee shop.  Yet he just left the house on foot like a class five hurricane, after spitting at me, throwing TV remotes, phones, I-pods and yelling obscenities.  At least today it didn't include breaking a television.  I wouldn't allow him to go "hang" with a questionable friend for the day.  I even offered other alternatives which he refused.  He doesn't grasp that after all the lying, stealing and manipulation that he must earn back the trust.
This weekend he did agree to see a doctor and discuss the possibility of meds to help him through these obvious tumultuous teenage years of anxiety.  He was worried at first that I thought he was crazy and abnormal.  The truth of the matter is, I do feel that way at times.  Of course I explained the fact that everyone needs help now and again, especially in this day and age. Now he's gone .If he doesn't return by dark I'll be calling the authorities to report him as a runaway.  God help me. God help my son who must be feeling alone, unwanted, unloved and scared.  I don't know what else I can do to change that fact. 
I won't give up though, still trying to get off this roller coaster. 

Hell on Earth

He's a devil child!  I know it sounds like an absolutely horrible thing for a mother to say of her own flesh and blood, her living, breathing offspring.  Created in love and born to an elated mother who adored being with child.  It's hard for me to believe it as well.  I have never had anyone else in my life treat me as badly as my baby boy.  Never has anyone ever called me  (excuse the language) a f..... psycho bitch.  Never before has anyone told me I was the worst mother on the planet and completely inept at raising children, after all isn't that why he's so messed up!  He's told me he hates me, I'm stupid, I am a freak. The list goes on.  All these words weigh heavy on my bruised heart.  When I discuss the intense labor I went through delivering him, with my hubby of 4 years, he responds that it must be from his stubby little horns that weren't quite developed yet.  Well, they're nice and long and sharp at 15 years of age!

The hell is the pain created from watching him hurt himself.  At 15 his brain is still growing and he's poisoning it. He runs with a questionable crowd who have access to not only marijuana but heroin,ecstasy, and God only knows what else.  He lies, cheats, steals and sells his belongings to get his drugs.  Does any of this sound familiar?  I have spoken to many parents, professionals, clergy, and kids in rehab.  The stories are all similar.  It has become an epidemic.  Is our culture, our society so warped that our children have to turn to drugs to survive the pressures?  This is another topic I will revisit later.  The hell is also the lump that sits in the pit of my stomach 24 hours a day.  When he has a  fit of rage, which is becoming more often, it grows and wells up inside of me like some insidious evil or disease.  It keeps me awake at night, makes me grind my teeth while I do sleep, it keeps me in the dark even when the sun is shining bright and warm.  It brings tears to my tired eyes at the most inopportune times, they flow suddenly without warning like my sprinkler whose fitting came unsealed while sprinkling.  The hell is not having time or energy for my adoring saint of a husband or my mostly grown crazy sons or my precious daughter-in-law.  The hell is not being able to laugh because nothing appears funny. I do miss laughing till my stomach aches.  I can't remember the last time I did that. I pray each day, all day, to my higher power for strength and guidance for my son while searching for answers. 

Early Days

Working, raising three little boys and caring for a depressed spouse took there toll on me and the household.  My husband was in denial about his disease state and became moody, stressed and unpredictable.  I sought out help, joined foundations and participated in fundraising events and researched ways in which to slow the disease process.  He would have nothing to do with any of it.  I worked hard to keep the household stress free and quiet so he could sleep.  You see, he also worked a night shift which was even more detrimental to his health.  One of my biggest mistakes....giving a busy, demanding toddler his way to keep things quiet.  I helped create a monster and by the time I realized it he was 6 years old.  In that time I experienced and lived through a gambling addiction of my husbands, depression, unfaithfulness, two stints away in a gambling rehab clinic, GA meetings every week, a separation, a divorce, and the constant care and attention of 3 boys very involved in sports and school.  Looking back, I still can't believe I did it all.  Especially due to the financial woes we now had due to the compulsive gambling issue.  The house fell into disrepair, I gained 20lbs and had began suffering from anxiety attacks.  Through all of this we continued giving baby number three his way, just to make life a bit more bearable. 


I'm not sharing this for want of sympathy. The beauty of it all is that I made it through, persevered, got healthy, kept my home and was able to raise my children. I had my faith and some very special friends who helped me.


One thing remained:  GUILT.  And he knew it!

From the Beginning

The mother with a delinquent child.  That's me.  It surprises me, it shakes me.  I always felt I had a spiritual maternal connection with each one of my boys in utero.  I spoke to them while my belly grew and sang to them.  I made them promises of unconditional love that only a mother can share.  I was certain they could hear my thoughts, my vibrations.  They knew what I was about. A relationship like no other in the world.  The shear ecstasy felt the moment they came forth into the world.  These were the three highest, most spiritual moments of my 48 years thus far.  It can't compare to the brilliant blue waters of Cinque Terre, the grandeur of the Grand Canyon, the amazing power and beauty of Niagara Falls or the ominous feeling of seeing Stone Henge for the first time, wind blowing coldly across the Salisbury Plain.  Nothing can compare to the life-giving experience and spirituality of childbirth.



I am speaking today of child number three. He came into this world quickly, but oh so intensely.  Like a raging surge of water from a swollen river.  After recovering from the experience, which was a near 3 minutes, I held his 6lb 10oz pink, squirming body skin to skin with mine.  He suckled immediately and nursed like a champ from the beginning.  After all I wasn't a novice by this time.  His big brothers were present for his arrival, looking a bit shell-shocked but taking it all in.  They insisted on a name for him and after examination I succumbed to their title.  My favorite name of choice had been "Levi" but it just wasn't in his eyes.



He was taken to a love-filled home with lots of noise and excitement.  he had so much attention and care and nurturing.  At three months his daddy was diagnosed with a degenerative disease and the love-filled home took on a new dimension, a new "vibe" if you will.