Life Family and the Pursuit of Sanity

or… adventures in infertility and babies and family drama!

You Weren’t Looking for a Cohesive Thought Were You? January 30, 2012

Filed under: Baby G,Big C,Family,We're parents? — arminta @ 4:34 pm
Tags: , , , ,

Hello, so I have like 50 little things flitting about in my brain that I want to share. Guess what that means? Bullets!

  • Aunt C: NOT CANCER!!!!!! Emphysema, but NOT CANCER!!!!! We are so relieved and happy that the news isn’t as bad as it could have been. That said, as soon as we found out she wasn’t dying G went back to not wanting to reach out to her. He is still very hurt by her actions. I am less so. Don’t get me wrong, I was good and pissed at first, but honestly… she’s had 50 years of getting steamrolled by her sister and this was just one more example. So, yes, I think she should be the one to apologize and I think she should reach out to him. But… I think who ever has to do the reaching out, they should talk it out. Baby G and Uncle P should not suffer because of Grandma Psychopants. Also, I think having the incentive of Baby G being allowed to come over more will help them quit smoking. (Obviously, can’t let the asthmatic baby go over there, especially when it’s winter and all shut up, regardless of the relationship stuff, because of the smoke.)
  • La Diabla: This crazy bitch is a whole other story. I think part of the reason G isn’t wanting to reconnect with Aunt C is because he’s afraid of it opening the door for more contact with his mother. Since the fight earlier this month they hadn’t had any contact. Until… the heifer followed his truck one day last week while he was meeting one of his guys out on their route. She then got out and IN FRONT OF HIS WORKER acted like a loon (being all giggly and happy and trying to hug on him) and asked him to go get lunch with her. Like, what? He wasn’t at work? So, he politely (remember, his guy is right there watching this whole scene) told her that he was at work, and very busy and he’d talk to her later. So, she stood there next to her truck and watched him and his guy work and openly cried. He was so pissed. Fine, you want to talk? Let’s start with calling off work hours and having a conversation and not being nuts. I don’t know what he told his driver. Anyway, she hasn’t tried to call since, but I’ve gotten a couple of hang up calls (her signature move) and she’s driving by the house several times a day again. You know what she needs? A job. In California. I was going to say Alaska, but I have fantasies of moving to Alaska.
  • Asthma: Can kiss my ass. Poor Baby G had a runny nose last Tuesday, and is now in full blown Yellow Zone again. No wheezing so far, but I started the med’s when the night coughing started. Poor baby. At 17 months, one of his words should not have to be “puffy.” At least we know it’s helping, because when he’s having a coughing fit, he looks relieved to see it. IDK if the runny nose triggered him, or if we got exposed to something new/more at Children’s…
  • Thankfulness: I am currently making some micro-preemie hats for a friend of a friend’s baby. She was born at 26 weeks and only 1 & 1/2 pounds. I hate pre-eclampsia. But, her story reminds me of how much worse our outcome could have been. Even though Baby G had to come early, he had 12 more weeks than this baby. He was full size, more than 4 times bigger than this little girl. Carried precisely to term. We were lucky. Of course, the other side to that is knowing what an impact our losses have had on Big C. When he heard about this baby, being born and alive and breathing on her own and being a kick ass little miracle for how tiny she is, he wasn’t happy. His response? “I don’t want to hear too much about that baby, because I don’t think she can stay alive too long.” An eight year old should not have to know that babies can die. Of course, I told him all about Bobby & Maya and Ainsley. I told him all about the miracles of modern medicine. I tried so hard to make him believe that I wasn’t thinking the very same thing. I’m pretty sure I failed, though, because I heard him telling his Nana later that he didn’t think that baby could breathe with such tiny lungs. But… she is breathing with those tiny lungs. Nearly a week now. And I’m making her hats. Because I can’t do anything else and I need to do something.
  • Speaking of making hats… Baby Hooked Boutique is doing really well! Today is the last day of V-Day design and listing before I move onto St. Patrick’s Day. Also, getting a new website up for it! Will get you the link when it’s ready for visitors.
  • Baby G: Other than the asthma, he is doing so great. He is scary smart. He counts to three, you heard all the animal sounds he makes, he knows all of his body parts, he’s naming colors (green & blue he gets every time, the rest he’s getting about 75% of the time) and he is starting to recognize letters. Two and three word phrases are a daily thing. He asks questions. Well, he asks “Where’d he go?” He understands the answers. Scary smart. He still eats crayons, don’t get me wrong. He’s a toddler. He makes messes and puts stuff in his mouth and tests limits and will cut a bitch over his Elmo toys (or just scream and push her down). But terrifyingly smart.
  • Banana-Gate: Banana’s are losing some of their power, but here’s a fun poop story! I talked to the pediatrician about the bananas. He said 1/2 a banana a day. 1/2!!!! Yeah, that wasn’t happening. So, I started offering 1 banana with breakfast, and limiting him to 1/2 a banana at lunch and dinner. Wanna know what happened? He got constipated. The nurse informed me the lack of bananas couldn’t possibly be why he got backed up, because bananas are constipating. Three days, no poo and a suppository later I decided he can have as many bananas as he wants. After a couple days getting re-regulated, and having plenty of bananas, no more poo trouble. So… bananas are back on the menu! (He’s eating about 3-4 a day, now. But, he eats plenty of other foods, too, he isn’t only eating bananas.)

Well, I think there was more, but certain people decided to take a short nap (f’ing asthma cough!), so I gotsta dip.

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Mama’s Always Right January 27, 2012

Filed under: Baby G,We're parents? — arminta @ 2:16 am

I’ve mentioned several times recently how G and I have been butting heads a little re: The Baby G. It basically boils down to one of us is a hoverer and the other is a little more relaxed. There have been a couple of events this week that have shown this in sharp relief. I actually have a little hope that the hoverer may be about make some small reformation.

 

What happened? Well, on Monday a certain Mr. Toddler man decided he’d had enough of this crib nonsense and maybe he’d just climb on out. So that was fun. Being a toddler he didn’t give much thought to whether to go head first or feet first or much of anything other than “OUT,” so he flipped right on out onto his noggin. Yay! So, I went to get him, comforted him, made sure the knock was on a sturdier part of his head (over the eye, as opposed to the temple/side), kept him up for a little bit to make sure he wasn’t puking or disoriented and even shined a flashlight in his eyes to make sure his pupils were dilating and contracting properly. Upon concluding he seemed fine… I decided to pretty much watch and make sure nothing changed and (most importantly) not freak the fuck out. Daddy, on the other hand… decided to freak the fuck out. Without having seen him. Without knowing anything at all other than Baby G flipped out of his crib. He demanded a trip to the ER. He was not very nice to me when I tried to calm him down. He really freaked. Really. So, we called the pediatrician’s office, and you know what they said? I did everything right. The nurse said and I quote “You checked everything we’d check, keep an eye for the next couple of days, but sounds like he’s probably fine.” Until Wednesday night, every little fuss was met with “Oh, God, we need to take him to the ER,” and me talking him out of it.

 

Why until Wednesday? Because Wednesday I broke down and took him to the ER. Not because of the fall. Because, he really is OK from that. No, Wednesday afternoon while I was changing his diaper, Baby G lost his mind. He started screaming and kicking and flailing and having an all out, balls out, fit. It lasted literally like 15 minutes. He seemed to be in true pain and couldn’t be consoled. Even after he calmed he still seemed to be in pain. It scared me. When it started I thought it was just an amped up temper tantrum, but towards the end I became less sure and definitely convinced he was in pain. Had I been home alone I probably would have kept a watch on him to see if happened again (and if it did, and I couldn’t find a reason for it, I’d have readily taken him in), checked him over for a visible cause etc… But, alas I wasn’t home alone. I was home with Daddy Hovers and the crazy clan (i.e. the C’s 3). Of course, Daddy immediately wanted to take the baby to the ER. Apparently, he likes spending $200 to get exposed to every communicable disease known to childhood. Between comforting the screaming child, and taking care of the other three, I just didn’t have it in me to talk him off the ledge (AGAIN). So, when he started in with the “we have to go the the ER now” I told him to cal the pediatrician’s office. Of course, he got the nurse there all freaked out, throwing around words like “seizure” (FYI, there was nothing even remotely seizure-like to this situation), so she (naturally) referred him to the ER. Where the doctor did what? Perform a visual inspection and found… diaper rash.

 

Makes sense, he is cutting 108 teeth all at the same time right now. Mind you, I didn’t see any rash at home, but it’s possible that it started in the hard to see places and I missed it. It was chaotic and not well lit and he was screaming and thrashing. I could have missed it. Or, it could have come on in the time it took to get there, but was still sore. Whatever. Point is, had I given it a diaper change or two at home, I’d have seen the rash, and treated it. He wouldn’t have had another fit and we would have spent $200 to get exposed to every communicable disease known to childhood.

 

So, I was pissed. I felt like I was the only grown up in the house. I don’t want to take chances with the baby’s health, but I don’t think we need to be running off to the ER every other day either. I’ve been getting a lot of shit for this. But, after this incident he did acknowledge that he should have been more level headed. So,maybe, just maybe things will change.

 

** I know I’ve been bitching about the Daddy G a lot lately, and it may seem like there’s a bigger issue at home… Truth is I have no one IRL to vent to (mother takes his side on ANY issue, sister uses all conversations as a starting point to talk about how “lucky” I am to have a husband and how hard it is to be a single mom and that story just repeats itself over and over. Oh my, how I’d love to go on re: the sister, but I won’t. The “lucky” is in quotes not to imply I’m unlucky to have the husband I have, but to imply that luck has nothing to do with maintaining a 12 year marriage. **

 

Heaven on Earth January 22, 2012

Filed under: Baby G — arminta @ 2:24 am
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In May of 2009 I was certain that this would never be the scene in my living room. This was impossible. I would die without ever knowing this joy.

I’ve never been so glad to be wrong about anything.

 

 

Things To Not Forget: 16 Months January 21, 2012

Filed under: Baby G — arminta @ 4:30 pm
Tags: , , , , ,

This morning I was in bed and I heard the most beautiful sound in the world. My life would just not be the same without it. I heard my mans’s playing. They were, rather dramatically, sneezing. So many times, and so dramatically, that I suspect it was on purpose. As I laid there listening, wanting so badly to go join them, but not wanting to interrupt their special time, I tried so hard to burn that sound into my memory. I never want to forget the sound of my boy faking sneezes and laughing at his Daddy. I never want those sounds to go away. But burning that magical laugh and hilarious sneeze into my brain got me to thinking I should probably write down more stuff that the boy is up to, so as not to forget.

 

  • Sesame Street rocks socks. He has 12 guys at last count (ha! The Count is one of them…) and he knows all of their names and he tries to carry like five of them around at a time, but his little hands only have room for two and he gets so mad! If I remind him about a pail, he will squeeze as many as he can in one hand and carry the rest in his pail. They fall off of Hooper’s Store and need sugars to feel better, a lot. And they talk to each other, mostly about bananas and their names.
  • Speaking of speaking… Ho Lee Cow! According to his pediatrician, this kid speaks at the level of an average 30 month old. For instance, last week Big Bird fell off of a stool (he was talking to Abby Cadabby about bananas and eat and fish and “roar”) and my Baby G gave me this look of heart break. So, I said “What’s wrong buddy?” and he said “Bird fall down.” Bird. Fall. Down. We’d gotten used to two word phrases, “Go bye-bye”, “All done”, “Get down”, “Go potty” (which almost never is used in relation to him going potty, go figure), “Go eat”, “Fish eat” all part of the daily speech repertoire. But, a three word sentence? Yeah, that was new.
  • Animal noises are the new black. He freaking loves animals. They are probably on the same level with Elmo. His big trick at family get together’s is entertaining everyone with his animal sounds. People take turns naming animals and he makes the sound and does a little dance. The cutest BY FAR are donkey and monkey. Note to self: get the donkey on video! Other sounds: Horse, Cow, Chicken, Duck, Bird, Pig, Fish (more of a facial movement), Bunny (more of a concentrated sniffing), Lion & Tiger & Bear &  Dinosaur all make the same sound (riiii-oooar), Cat, Dog, Snake and Rooster. Oh! and Panda. Panda’s up there with Donkey and Monkey. Because Panda’s say? “Hi-yah!” like a karate sound. Yeah, because we have a Kung-Fu panda toy and I made it say Hi-Yah! once, and since then all panda’s say Hi-Yah!
  • He has no time for that damn shape sorter, Dad! He’ll put two or three shapes through the holes, then take the lid off and put the rest away! G does like it because he says it defeats the purpose of the toy. I think it’s the cleverest thing I’ve ever seen.
  • You’d best not get him out of his bed before he’s ready. He will call for you when he wants to get up. I know it’s time when I hear “Mom. M-aaaahh-m.” coming from his room.
  • If you fall asleep on the floor he will wake you up with a kiss ala Prince Charming. Mommy falls asleep on the floor about 30 times a day. Finally!!! Sugars I don’t have to beg for!!
  • He tries so hard to jump. In his crib with the rail and springs, the boy gets AIR. But, he wants to jump everywhere, so he walks around trying to jump all of the time. He gets it maybe 1 try in 100, but he is so not giving up.
  • Because he’s stubborn as an ox. Much like his mother. See above regarding the quantity of figures he tries to carry around.
  • Feeding ducks is the shiz-nit. He chases them and quacks at them and throws the bread/popcorn/other stale carbs laying around in my kitchen at them. He is for real about his ducks.
  • Feeding his fish is another biggie. His fish have to be fed three times a day and he has to do it. Poor Ron is knocked up (literally within 1 minute of her going into the tank they were doing it), and she gets hungry a lot. Oh! His fish are called Ron (orange female guppy), Hermione (blonde/yellow’ish male guppy) and Draco (albino corydora). He doesn’t care that they have names.
  • He’ll cut a bitch over his Little People Farm, though. I can’t even tell you how many times a day I have to break up a brawl because certain little trouble makers come and grab his shit and run (he sets up little scenes with his animals and guys and you best not mess with them), and he chases them down and exacts his revenge.
  • Otherwise, he is so sweet. I just melt for him. So.In.Love.

Sorry if this is sounding braggy. It isn’t meant to be. Just so in awe of this kid.

 

January 18, 2012

You know how two year old’s have a bad rap for being assholes? Yeah, turns out that can start at like 16 months. I love my son. He is funny and cool and smart (holy hell this kid is smart, it’s a little scary) and beautiful. Most of the time he’s a smiley little snuggle ball. Accept, you know if someone else touches his farm (he is addicted to his Little People Farm) or his Sesame Street guys (which must be breeding, because he somehow has like 12) or if he wants to read and I need to do anything other than read to him or if he wants another banana and we’re out or if he gets told to stop doing something. I think you see the pattern, pretty much anytime he doesn’t get his way, or is forced to share he goes from happy, smiley, lovey baby to screeching, red-faced, kicking monster’ish asshole. Oh, and it’s fast. It’s one of those 0-60 in 2 seconds situations.

 

Which, I think is pretty normal for toddlers. All toddlers go through that “I’ll scream until I get what I want” phase, and they either learn that it doesn’t work and self adjust, or they learn that it does and grow up into the mega-assholes we all know and hate. That’s normal, right? Guys? Someone please tell me my kid isn’t destined to be a serial killer or something. Just kidding.

 

Well, I’m just kidding, but Daddy, you see. Daddy doesn’t have a whole lot of experience with the littles. Sure, we had Big C ALL THE TIME when he was this age, but… he was my buddy, then. And, also? He was a remarkably good toddler. He didn’t become an asshole until much later (I shouldn’t say that, it’s not entirely his fault that he behaves asshole’ish’ly, ADHD/ODD will do that to a kid). So, like I said, G not so experienced with the littles, but has very strong opinions on “acceptable behavior.” Good luck with that!

 

Yeah, so we’ve had our first of “those” battles last night. Baby G was walking around spitting in the house. Because, hello, do you remember when you first learned about spitting? It’s fun! Not cool to do in the house, but fun. So, I told him spitting in the hose is gross. This, naturally, had no effect whatsoever, and I didn’t really expect it to. I wasn’t trying to stop him (he wasn’t hurting anything), just provide some information. Because, I am not going to start a battle I can’t win with a toddler. This one = unwinnable. There is no physical way to stop him spitting. I could give him a consequence and deal with screaming, but… frankly, I’m not so sure the correct message (no spitting in the house) would be what got through. So, I went with “Please don’t spit in the house, that’s gross” and dropped it.

 

Not.Good.Enough. You know why? Because the baby wasn’t taking me seriously. OK… So the answer? Take toys away from the playing baby, who has stopped spitting BTW, to “have a conversation.” Oh, yeah, that’ll work. Of course, baby begins SCREAMING!!!!! Really, can you blame him? If you were sitting there on your laptop and someone came in and turned it off and took it away and told you where to sit so they could lecture you about something you didn’t really understand anyway? You’d be pissed. So, the logical action? Continue to restrain him, while saying in a very condescending voice “I know it’s terrible… OK, settle down so we can talk” and when that doesn’t work (big surprise) let’s try blaming Mom for spoiling him and then let’s threaten to “get rid” a bunch of these toys (obviously, overstimulation is the reason he’s screaming, not the fact that you just pissed him off and are now not listening to him at all). Let’s let this go on until the baby is almost purple faced and coughing from crying so hard.

 

Did I want to put an end to it sooner? Oh, yes. Oh, hell yes. But… I have this thing about Mom & Dad being on the same team and though Daddy was attacking me, I wasn’t gonna stoop to that level. But, when my asthmatic baby is laying on the floor utterly confused at what’s going on, coughing and barely able to breathe from crying so hard? I’m going to pick him and comfort him. I don’t really care what you think about it, nor do I give a shit what message you think it sends. If my kid is that upset, I will pick him up and comfort him. Will you telling me that I’m spoiling him and turning him against you have any effect at all on my actions? No. None. So, you might as well shut up. Maybe you should try talking about how toddlers having temper tantrums isn’t normal, and isn’t acceptable “on your side.” Oh, wait, nope, no effect. (Also, let me just interject… I’ve seen precious few toddlers on G’s side of the family, but I’ll tell ya… H was a MONSTER as a toddler, Bro C was the same if not worse, the other 3 toddlers I’ve seen have all been bossy, mean, screaming hooligans.)

 

So, that’s how my night went last night. Granted, this was less than thirty minutes of our night and I don’t think Baby G has suffered any serious trauma as a result. He was giving his Daddy the sugars again within minutes. So, was it the end of the world? No. But, I do think it was a learning experience. Not for the baby. He learned nothing of value. Not a half an hour later he was back to spitting in the house (which I completely ignored). No, what we learned was that we have to get our shit together on this whole discipline thing. I’m afraid it’s going to be a big deal as Baby G gets older…

 

Occupy McDonald’s January 15, 2012

I am hugely invested in the Occupy Movement. This has spurned me into action. No, I’m not protesting. I’m not making signs, or taking food to protesters. Oh, no, much the opposite. I am enraged by the entitled attitudes of these people and am taking action to educate them. The leader of the movement in my hometown gave an interview stating that he’s been offered jobs and turned them down in order to continue his protest!!!! His protest is against joblessness. He only started protesting because he didn’t have a job!! Does anyone else see the problem with this picture? Also? Within less than a one mile radius of my house no less than 10 businesses are hiring permanent employees. Sure, they are fast food restaurants and grocery stores. No, they don’t pay much above minimum wage. But… they do pay. They are an option whilst you wait for something better. I have heard so many of the people identifying themselves as occupiers talk about how they can’t accept those jobs because they pay less than they are making on unemployment. I cannot tell you how red my sight goes when I hear this kind of nonsense. Here’s why…

 

When I was a child my dad drove a garbage truck. He made minimum’ish wage. My mom had to go to work in a factory in order to put food on the table and keep the heat on. Even then, sometimes the power got shut off. While working in that factory my mother checked out library books on computer programming and practiced on our hand-me-down machine at night. She built a reputation as being hard working and dependable. She solved problems and became known as a person of action. She knew that in order to succeed her company needed to embrace technology and she researched the best ways to do this on her own time, without being asked. She then made a presentation for the owners (again, on her own time) to convince them what needed to be done. They made her the first IT leader in the company. She is now an IT leader for a gigantic multi-national corporation (that bought her company) and is in charge of multiple sites and dozens of people and earns a six figure salary. She is in Florida right now preparing to present to hundreds of people on the future of their business from an IT perspective. That’s the work ethic I learned. That’s how I feel everyone should work that wants to get ahead and make money.

 

So, when I hear people saying things like “with all the resources in this country it shouldn’t be that hard, we should be done pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps” and “I can’t take that job, I make more on unemployment” I think “LAZY ASS! You don’t deserve to succeed!” My bigger issue with the occupy movement isn’t that it’s mostly just an excuse for laziness, it’s a movement with no leader, no actionable goals, no defined list of “to-do’s.” Nope, just thousands of people standing around saying “Hey government, things suck, make it better.” Now if you read the above, you’ll have learned that I am very much of the opinion that if you see a problem, and you want it fixed, it is very much your job to draft an ACTIONABLE, REALISTIC plan for solving the problem, then IMPLEMENT it. That might mean taking action yourself, it might mean contacting people with the appropriate authority, but either way, you should be out there making your plan happen, or at least trying to. FYI… posting your “demands” online does not count as taking action. I’m posting this online, but it’s not doing anything but making me feel important.

 

Don’t get wrong, some of the things this movement is talking about are things I agree with (repealing the Patriot Act, for one), but it’s the attitude that gets me riled up. It’s the attitude of a lot of the people in the Y and younger generations. I see it in my siblings, and cousins and all over Facebook. It makes me feel like we’re lost. I really am having a hard with hope for the future right now…

 

Things I Don’t Understand January 12, 2012

You know how you’re not supposed to discuss religion and politics in polite company? Yeah, well, that’s all that’s on my mind lately, so you can just throw that politeness bullshit right on out the window. Let’s start with religion, as it’s the thing playing front role in my metal ramblings. For the record this is long and full of depressing ass shit. So, while I welcome feedback on this topic, I will totally get it if you don’t read it…

Last night we had a little dust up. A certain song that I love (because of it’s melody) came on the radio and I was singing along (it was “I Write Sins Not Tragedies” by Panic! at the Disco). For those of you who don’t know, this song has the word god.damn in the chorus. Of course, on the radio they bleep it out. But much like that Cee Lo song we all know and love so well, I have heard the cd version too many times and sing it, rather than the radio version. Normally, this isn’t an issue (even with that Cee Lo song), but for some inexplicable reason, last night that particular curse word was a BIG DEAL. Such a big deal that I was asked “How am I supposed to raise a kid who believes in God if his mother is an atheist?”

Atheist? I don’t recall ever proclaiming myself an atheist. Questioning? Definitely. Pissed as hell at a God who could let my babies die and all kinds of other horrendous things happen in the world? Yeah, count me in on that one, too. So, I tried to explain that I wasn’t really sure what I believe anymore, but it definitely isn’t that there is definitely a God and that he definitely gives a rat’s ass about us. Of course this was met with more anger and accusations of “atheist.”

But it got me to thinking… what do I believe? I personally think that life rather had to be designed intelligently. I just don’t see the Earth and the life on it springing forth this way by accident. If that were the case, I think all  (or at least most) other planets would be similar to Earth in terms of life. I don’t buy the argument for oxygen. That just happens to be abundant here. If life were creating itself out of the available elements, then there would be no reason that things couldn’t live on Jupiter and breathe helium, instead. Sure, yeah, there could be (and probably are) planets far, far away that we don’t know about, and it’s certainly possible that one or more of them could have life on them, but as it stands, I tend to think there must be some amount of intelligent design involved in our being here.

Now, just because someone designed us and put us here, does that mean they continue to watch over and care for and love us? That’s the question with which I have far more trouble. Our world is full of suffering. Going beyond my little narrow experience of infertility and pregnancy loss, there is so much more suffering out there. I hear people say there’s a reason for it, and God has a plan. But, seriously? He has a plan that involves a woman being anally raped by her boyfriend? He has a plan that involves a 13 month old baby being critically injured in a car accident, living for months on life support only to suffocate to death within an hour of her parents stopping life support because her doctors tell them she will never again breathe on her own, and her brain would never function properly? He has a plan that involves a woman being sexually assaulted by a paramedic on the way to the hospital from the scene of a car accident? He has a plan that involves people just being incredibly cruel? Really?!?!?!?!?! Because I’m just not buying that. These are just the issues really nagging at me today. I could go on ans on with examples.

OK, I had to wait for Baby G. Let’s just assume that for whatever reason, God decided that I needed to do something that required not having a child until August 2010… why did the other pregnancies happen? Why did we see a heartbeat only to have that child die? OK, that baby from the car crash had to die in order for her parents to have her brother, which they wouldn’t have if she were still with them, why the suffering? Why the months on life support? Why force them to make the decision to end their child’s life? What possible good could come of that? Why could her parents not have just been infertile until time for her brother to come along? At the very least, why couldn’t she have been killed instantly? What possible good could ever come from sexual assault? What kind of fucked up plan requires this kind of suffering?  What happened to Romans 8:28? Did all these people who have suffered just not love him enough? What about Jer 29:11? What happened to the whole plan to “not harm”?

So, yeah, I’m bitter. Bitter. I don’t get it. I don’t understand why my best friend had to die at 16 years old of a cancer that ate his brain to the point that he didn’t know his own mother at the end. I don’t get how the Bible is full of assurances of how God is looking out for people and has a plan for them and is taking care of them, but the world is full of sickness and disease and horrible, evil, monstrous people who hurt other people in some of the most disgusting and vile ways imaginable.

Speaking of… we are supposed to be created in God’s image, yeah? So what’s up with the horrible, evil, monstrous people who hurt other people in some of the most disgusting and vile ways imaginable. How could someone created in the image of a “loving and merciful” God kidnap a small child, then torture him for hours until he dies, then leave his body on a railroad track? or anally rape a woman who loves and trusts them? or lure women into their vehicle for the purpose of killing them, then make trophies from their body parts? or any number of other absolutely unimaginable travesties, that somehow someone thought of, then acted on. Either God isn’t the “loving and merciful” being we’ve all been lead to believe, or we are not created in anyone’s image.

I tell you what, it scares the shit out of me that Baby G is going to grow up in this world full of these sick monsters.

I don’t know that writing it all out has helped me get any closer to making any kind of decision or having any kind of epiphany… I’m definitely not trying to change anyone else’s mind. You’re all more than welcome to contribute your pennies to the pot on this topic.

 

** Update… So, I’ve been struggling with this all day. I finally got this post all written and posted and G tells me Aunt C is being checked for lung cancer on Friday. She went to the ER a few days ago and they found spots “all over her lungs.” Really? **