Can I handle the seasons of my life?
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Thread: Can I handle the seasons of my life?

  1. #1
    squishymom
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    Default Can I handle the seasons of my life?

    This is my journal, take two. I don't know if I'm going to move my old one over here yet or not.

    I am laughing my *** off at all the drama that is going on all over this site! Very entertaining!

    ok, I decided to cut and paste only the journal entries I thought were important. Not too many, huh?

  2. #2
    squishymom
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    Just stashing this here for future reference

    Father and Daughter
    (Print the Lyrics)


    If you leap awake
    In the mirror of a bad dream
    And for a fraction of a second
    You cant remember where you are
    Just open your window
    And follow your memory upstream
    To the meadow in the mountain
    Where we counted every falling star

    I believe the light that shines on you
    Will shine on you forever
    And though I cant guarantee
    Theres nothing scary hiding under your bed
    I’m gonna stand guard
    Like a postcard of a Golden Retriever
    And never leave till I leave you
    With a sweet dream in your head

    Im gonna watch you shine
    Gonna watch you grow
    Gonna paint a sign
    So youll always know
    As long as one and one is two
    There could never be a father
    Who loved his daughter more than I love you

    Trust your intuition
    Its just like going fishing
    You cast your line
    And hope you get a bite
    But you dont need to waste your time
    Worrying about the market place
    Try to help the human race
    Struggling to survive its harshest night

    Im gonna watch you shine
    Gonna watch you grow
    Gonna paint a sign
    So youll always know
    As long as one and one is two
    There could never be a father
    Who loved his daughter more than I love you

    Im gonna watch you shine
    Gonna watch you grow
    Gonna paint a sign
    So youll always know
    As long as one and one is two
    There could never be a father
    Who loved his daughter more than I love you

  3. #3
    squishymom
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    Posted: 2003-02-14 13:56
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    Just stashing this song here

    Hawaii is the sun
    Hawaii is the sea
    Hawaii is the home for you and me
    We play beneath the sun
    and watch the palm trees sway
    We learn to say hello (or I love you) the Hawaiin way

    ALOHA!

  4. #4
    squishymom
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    Posted: 2003-02-18 14:33
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    Well, I've had some spotting I dreamt all night about miscarriages and such, so I think I have prepared myself for the worst, in case it does happen. I am really depressed about it, but if it happens then it happens and there is nothing I can do about it. i just keep thinking, it's not fair, I have to try so hard to even get pg, and then God might take the baby away from me. Maybe Ainsley will be my only child. The risk of ectopic pg scares me too, because I only ovulate out of one ovary. If I lose it or the tube I am screwed, no more kids for me. Gosh, I feel like someone kicked me in the neck and stole all my money, but I keep asking for me.

    Please God, let me keep this baby. You know how much it will be loved and cared for, how long we have waited to be blessed with both our children, born and unborn. I'm on my knees begging you.

  5. #5
    squishymom
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    2003-03-10 13:50

    I cannot enjoy this pregnancy the way I should. Instead of getting exciting and cruising through the baby section looking at wee little clothes, I'm praying day and night I get to keep this baby. I will not feel "safe" until either I go ahead and miscarry or until this baby is born and I am holding it in my arms. I have a picture from my er ultrasound, I look at it often and just wish that this is not going to be my only picture of this baby. I'm an emotional wreck, slipping into depression very quickly. I just want to lay around all day not talking to anyone. But, I must press on for the sake of my daughter. She is missing her normally cheerful, playful momma. Matt yelled at me the other day, told me not to take it out on Ainsley. I hadn't realized I was doing that, and it really ripped a hole in my heart. He was right though. I have nothing to take it out on besides this journal. So you, dear reader, get the brunt of it. I need a friend here, a true friend that I can cry on and they will help me take care of Ainsley. I have no one like that here, no one I would feel comfortable doing that to. What if the worst happens and I do lose the baby? Who will be here to help me pick up the pieces? No one, I have to do it all by myself. Normally I am a strong and independent person, I can do things for myself. But not now. Now, I feel like the little girl I once was, hurting from pain so raw and unimaginable, and no one knows. I'm left to my own devices, and I can't fix it. That hurt little girl is always there, but now she is taking over, and I don't know how to handle it. There is a line from a Dixie Chicks song that sums it up

    There is a wound inside me
    And it's bleeding like a flood
    There are times when I see a light ahead
    Hope is not enough
    As another night surrounds me
    And it pounds me like a wave
    God help me, am I the only one
    Who's ever felt this way?

    I know I'm not, but why does it feel like it?

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  6. #6
    squishymom
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    2003-03-21 19:29
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    Just wanted to put this here:


    The average age of the military man is 19 years.
    He is a short haired, tight-muscled kid who, under normal circumstances is considered by society as half man, half boy. Not yet dry behind the ears,
    not old enough to buy a beer, but old enough to die for his country.

    He never really cared much for work and he would rather wax his own car than
    wash his father's; but he has never collected unemployment either.

    He's a recent High School graduate; he was probably an average student,
    pursued some form of sport activities, drives a ten year old jalopy, and has
    a steady girlfriend that either broke up with him when he left, or swears to
    be waiting when he returns from half a world away.

    He listens to rock and roll or hip-hop or rap or jazz or swing and 155mm Howitzers.

    He is 10 or 15 pounds lighter now than when he was at home because he is working or fighting from before dawn to well after dusk.

    He has trouble spelling, thus letter writing is a pain for him, but he can
    field strip a rifle in 30 seconds and reassemble it in less time in the
    dark.

    He can recite to you the nomenclature of a machine gun or grenade launcher
    and use either one effectively if he must.

    He digs foxholes and latrines and can apply first aid like a professional.

    He can march until he is told to stop or stop until he is told to march.

    He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation,but he is not without
    spirit or individual dignity.

    He is self-sufficient. He has two sets of fatigues: he washes one and wears
    the other. He keeps his canteens full and his feet dry.

    He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never to clean his rifle.

    He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes, and fix his own hurts. If
    you're thirsty, he'll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his food.

    He'll even split his ammunition with you in the midst of battle when you run low.

    He has learned to use his hands like weapons and weapons like they were his
    hands. He can save your life - or take it, because that is his job.

    He will often do twice the work of a civilian, draw half the pay and still
    find ironic humor in it all. He has seen more suffering and death then he
    should have in his short lifetime.

    He has stood atop mountains of dead bodies, and helped to create them.

    He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in combat and is unashamed.

    He feels every note of the National Anthem vibrate through his body while at rigid attention, while tempering the burning desire to 'square-away' those
    around him who haven't bothered to stand, remove their hat, or even stop talking. In an odd twist, day in and day out, far from home, he defends their right to be disrespectful.

    Just as did his Father, Grandfather, and Great-grandfather, he is paying the price for our freedom.

    Beardless or not, he is not a boy.

    He is the American Fighting Man that has kept this country free for over 200 years.

    He has asked nothing in return, except our friendship and understanding.

    Remember him, always, for he has earned our respect and admiration with his blood.

  7. #7
    squishymom
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    2003-03-25 13:34
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    I saw Ainsley's angel yesterday. I swear to God. I went to get her up from a nap and I glanced out her window really quick to see a guy dressed in all white standing just beyond our fence looking into her window. I turned my head for one second and he was gone. A feeling of calmness and knowingness washed over me, I knew I had just seen an angel. You might think I'm a nut job, but I believe it.

    I feel so sad for a friend of mine right now. I wish I could be there to comfort her. I guess I wouldn't be much help as I have never experienced what she did, but I want her to know I'm thinking about her and am there in spirit.

    I'm feeling a little better now. I'm now facing 12 weeks, the magic number where I can stop worrying, right? Ha, I don't think so. I've had two episodes of bleeding this pregnancy. I hate to say it but it has caused me not to bond with this baby yet. I don't want to attach my heart to something that might not make it. Yet, I know it's already to late. I'm so protective of my belly. I flip out if Ainsley accidently hits it, I won't let her climb on me anymore. I think I felt it moving the other day. Maybe so, but maybe it was just wishful thinking. I know I haven't been as excited this pregnancy as I was with Ainsley. It makes me feel bad, like I love this baby less. I'd just really like to start showing. All I wanted last time was to have the cute pg belly. Didn't happen. I lost weight and she just kind of hid in there. This pregnancy is going the same. Very sick, losing weight. I know I won't get the cute pg belly this time either. Makes me sad. I know that's a stupid thing to obsess about, but, whaddayagonnado?

    Anyway, I should stop rambling here and make my child breakfast.

  8. #8
    squishymom
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    2003-03-25 14:22
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    I've been thinking about some stuff. I just realized I should have a four year old and a two year old. I lost two pregnancies, one at 18, one at 20. Both in the same month. Doctor's have told me that they weren't really miscarriages since I was never seen by a doctor to confirm them. I say that is a load of bull. The firs time was May 1998. I had no clue what was going on. I was still in college, living in the dorm. It was the last week of my freshman year. I wasn't feeling so hot, but didn't think much of it. I remember being at a friends house, watching movies to blow off stress from finals. I spent almost the whole night in her bathroom. Passing huge clots and feeling like I was in labor. I was sick, hot and sweaty, and in agony. I never told anyone about it, not even Matt.

    The second time was in May 2000. We had been married for five months and unofficially ttc. We were at my grandma's house for Memorial Day. I was feeling so sick. I did not want to eat, every thing made me want to puke. I now know, after experiencing it twice, that it was morning sickness. My mom was there and kept asking me if I was pg. I told her no, no, she didn't know we were ttc, and didn't want to be a grandma yet. Well, this time I was three weeks late when I miscarried. Not so dramatic as last time, but I did not keep the baby. Told Matt about it, and later told my mom, yes, I was pg but now I'm not. After that she was gung-ho on me getting pg. I finally did again in Dec 2000 and that is how Ainsley got here.

    I like to think that the two babies I miscarried came back to me in the form of Ainsley and the one I'm carrying now. I know in my heart that this baby will be my last. Emotionally I can't go through this again, and physically I don't think I can either. Too many problems conceiving. Too many problems being pregnant. I don't think I can take it anymore. Maybe one day many years from now God will bless me with a third miracle child. Maybe...

  9. #9
    squishymom
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    2003-03-25 14:35
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    Wow, it's a freakin record, three entries in one day!

    I've been hearing this song on a commercial,and I finally got it written down. i want to use it someday in a scrapbook entry.

    Honolulu baby,
    where'd you get those eyes?
    and that bright complexion
    I just idolize?

    Honolulu baby,
    where'd you get that style?
    and those ruby red lips
    and that sunny smile?

    He he, isn't it cute? If anyone reading this knows who sings it,can you pm me so I can find the whole song?

  10. #10
    squishymom
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    2003-04-07 19:25
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    I am finally in love with this baby. It took awhile, but I got the confirmation I needed last night that everything will be ok. I have a phenomenal dream about having a son. Up until now all dreams have been about losing my baby. I dreamt that I had a son, and he was beautiful. Dark hair with a reddish tint, blues eyes, fat cheeks. He was gorgeous. A feeling of relief and love just flowed into me, it's like I got a direct message from God. The only thing worrisome about the dream is that I had an emergency c-section at 31 weeks. I kept asking the nurses and doctors what happened, but no one told me.
    Anyhoo, I'm getting teary eyed just thinking about my dream. I feel like I can finally relax and love this baby like I should.

    I put alot of stock into powerful dreams. I believe they are messages from God.

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