Love

 

  

  

Guess who's THREE

Here are a few of my favorites from her photoshoot.






I'll post some more after I get the CD of all of them!

Also expect a few posts to pour in over the next few days!

xoxox
ME

Pieces

"I was born for this"

I woke up this morning and felt the gentle embrace of the early morning sunbeams cascading through my open window.

I woke up this morning believing these beautiful rays of light were created just for me.

I woke up this morning believing they were made to wrap their warmth securely around me to help me conquer whatever life throws my way.

I woke up this morning with an unwipeable smile splashed across my lips that will help me add a little light in this dark world.

I woke up this morning and thought, “I am not afraid.”

I woke up this morning and said to myself, “Good morning, beautiful.”

I woke up this morning and said, “I am enough!”

I woke up this morning, like every other morning.

I woke up this morning... ME!

"Making Memories"

I sit there patiently waiting to begin
Pink, Purple, Yellow
Bright and tiny cups with saucers
Miniature spoons used to stir her tea

Dainty pieces of plastic cake waiting to be enjoyed
Doilies line each plate
She puts all the pieces perfectly in place
“Don’t drink it yet,” her tiny voice proclaims

Sugar bowl, tea pot, cream container
Each filled endlessly to the brim
“MMMmmmmm” rings out harmoniously
We aren’t just drinking tea

"The Phone Rang"

I watched as my mother collapsed.

I watched as tears poured from her eyes and drenched the frigid black & white tile floor.

I watched her struggle between gasps of breath, drowning.

I stood motionless.

I left her and stood in the living room, alone.

I stood trying to understand but her words were still so unclear.

I heard nothing but whimpers and moans.

I stood there waiting.

The minutes dragged on like hours..

Finally, I understood a few words.

They felt so meaningless:

why, how, lost, alone

I stood there wondering.

Time stopped.  

Everything stopped.

Until I heard it, the words that slid from my mother’s lips that made everything so clear.

I stood there crying.

I can’t believe he’s gone…

How could he pull the trigger?

"I am waiting"

I am waiting for this to be natural

I am waiting to no longer be scared

I am waiting for love to grow inside my heart and never fade away

I am waiting for the moment when I see myself in your eyes;
the moment I feel comfortable knowing you are mine

I am waiting for the moment when you utter the words, "I love you mommy"
and I feel something, rather than nothing inside.

(Sidenote:  I can not tell you how great it feels to not have these feelings any longer; although, I can say I still see a glimmer of that cloud there once in awhile, I can without a doubt I feel a million times better than I ever have before.)

(All for Creative Writing Poetry)

Section of "Three Little Words" (parts added)

I walked into the hospital, hand-in-hand with my husband, my best friend.  I probably wouldn’t have been able to stop smiling if I tried.  I thought I knew what was to come.  I thought I was prepared for what was ahead of me.  I thought this is what I, what we, really wanted.  We had been together for nearly a decade.  We knew each other inside and out.  We had each other; heart and soul, and we were ready for our love to grow as we welcomed our child into our lives.  As we were walking into the hospital, I looked into my husband’s eyes and wondered if things were moving in slow motion for him too. It was as if time was standing still for us, allowing us to soak in each and every moment, so we could relish everything about this. 

The moment I got the call to come down to the hospital to be induced will forever be engraved in my mind.  I remember feeling my heartbeat rising and feeling as though lightning bolts where shooting through my veins.  The nurse sounded giddy, “Mrs. Novotny, take your time, but arrive before midnight so we can start your induction.”  My blood was flowing so fast that it felt like fireworks were exploding in my veins; I couldn’t help but stutter, “Th...haa…That, sounds perfect.”  I turned the phone off and just closed my eyes.    My dénouement was almost here. 

For the hour it took to get to the hospital, I just rested my head and sat with closed eyes cherishing the moments that I had been dreaming about for the past nine months.  I sat, lightly stroking my belly bump, which I had come to adore.  This would be the last time I would sit in the car, awkwardly positioned so the seatbelt wasn’t pushing too hard into my bulging stomach.  This would be the last time I would struggle to get in and out of the seat.  This would be the last time I would be merely a woman, because once I stepped out of this hospital and back into this car, I would be what I thought I longed to be, what I thought I was born to be, a mother.

We sat in the waiting room, waiting patiently, envisioning what was to come.  I had the most comforting daydreams of what this new life would be.  Streamed in high definition on the back of my eyelids were visions of a pink blanket holding a tiny little baby; she was beautiful and perfect and exactly what I was hoping for.  We had to wait for a room to become available for us, so I had a few hours to enjoy these comforting thoughts. 

Before I knew it, there was a young nurse standing in the doorway ushering us to a room where I thought my visions and my plan would meld together perfectly, but I was incredibly wrong.  This would be the room in which my perfect vision would shatter; this would be the room where my envisioned plan was crumpled up, thrown away, and replaced with a new, inferior, less perfect one.  The moments leading up to this change are just as significant as the exact moment it all came to an end, the moment I heard it let out its first scream.

At first, the room felt peaceful and welcoming.  This was the place where I would see my child, my daughter, for the first time, kiss her for the first time, say, “I love you, baby girl” for the first time.  Everything seemed very normal and routine; the nurse, who I couldn’t point out today if she were standing right next to me, was so helpful and polite as she explained each and every wire and tube she placed on me.  First were heart monitors, one for myself, and one for my peaceful little girl floating quietly in my womb.  Since I was diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes, a blood sugar monitor was placed on me next.  Then, the IV that pushed the Pitocin and other induction drugs through my veins was inserted in an attempt to bring my daughter to me more quickly. I was starting to feel overwhelmed and claustrophobic; the cords and wires started to make me anxious.  The constant beeping from all of the monitors was distracting and my normal, calm, and serene attitude was drifting farther and farther away from me, slowly creeping out of my reach.  I knew what all of this was leading up to and I kept telling myself, “just breathe,” but those words were more easily spoken than actually performed. 

Within minutes, my body was having adverse reactions to the Pitocin and I was starting to shake. At first, it was a short, spaced out, slow type of reaction, but before I knew it, I was in full-fledged convulsions.  My arms were weak from grasping the bed railings.  My hands were turning white as I tightly clutched onto that piece of plastic; it felt as if falling off the side of that hospital bed would be falling off the face of the Earth, so I clenched with all of my might as my body continued to tremble.  I was desperate and losing control of not only my body, but also my mind.  Because I was terrified that something was horribly wrong, I pressed the call button; the nurse came in and simply stated, “This is normal, don’t worry.”

My once positive outlook on everything was now completely gone.  I was frantic, my soul felt beaten, and I could not foresee seeing the positive side of anything ever again.  I could barely move and I began pleading with whomever would listen to take me away from this agony.  I realized that I wasn’t cut-out for this; I wasn’t strong enough to bring another human being into this world, on any level.  The minutes were moving slower and slower; time seemed to be almost still.  For hours I was begging for the pain to go away, but little did I realize that the pain had just started, little did I realize that my life would now be full of pain, masked by a fake smile.

Fifteen hours later, my perfect picture was gone and this new, terrifying reality was here.

They placed this wet, bloody, screaming thing in my arms and what is usually the moment that most mothers can recall with perfect precision, I can remember almost nothing.  All I remember was the intense urge of wanting to close my eyes and drift away.

Everything around me was spinning and seemed to be on fast-forward.  I felt a release of an enormous amount of pressure, I heard crying, and I saw all of these smiles and all of these faces stained with tears of joy, but I just sat there, silent, waiting, pleading with my heart to do what I knew it was supposed to do, but yet it did nothing; there was nothing.  I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t allow myself to let go and fall in love with this thing, this thing that came from my body.  It was a part of me and yet I couldn’t feel a single ounce of connection to it.  It cried and I felt nothing. It cooed and I felt nothing. It smiled and I felt nothing.  I didn’t know what was happening, but I knew that this was not how I was supposed to feel; this was not how this was supposed to be.  I had done everything I was supposed to; everything was done according to plan, but this thing came and threw my perfect little plan out the window.

I thought, as I looked down and stared endlessly into those tiny eyes, that this was the defining moment of my life.  I looked into those eyes, searching for a glimmer of hope, but there was none to be found.  I knew she couldn’t be mine.  She didn’t feel like mine. This wasn’t possible.  My daughter had to still be inside me; I could feel her.  She was motionless and comfortable and still inside my stomach.  This thing wasn’t her in my arms, but it was.  This was my child, my daughter, but why didn’t it feel like she was?
(Great Books Piece)

Home is where the heart is.

Turning off the perfectly groomed pavement onto our dusty, unkempt road always puts my soul at ease. Without a second thought I tighten my seat belt and plant my feet a tad more firm because I know that the springs rainy season has once again washed away most of the gravel and left our one lane oasis to home looking like the middle of a war zone. Bump after bump my smile grows. Bump after my bump my worries fly out my open window and in comes the reassuring sweet smell of honeysuckle. I breath it in and my body fills of the aroma that brings me back to a time when there were no worries. The sunshine that breaks through the trees lining our way hits my face and instantly warms me to my core. The oak trees that have been here long before us, and will remain long after us, have stories to tell in their broken limbs and nicked bark. A tire swing still remains on the second to the last giant tree beckoning for someone to come and resurrect it. I know I have exactly 2.8 miles from the moment we turn off the perfect pavement to the opening. 

And then, at that very moment, when we emerge through the opening of the great white oaks that lead us to our past; I see it. The beaten, double-planked, bridge we have crossed millions of times that brings us to the clearing. How this tiny bridge is still standing is beyond me, considering the wood is nearly dry rotten and the railings are either broken or missing. Underneath is the crick that stands nearly 20 feet wide; however, is only knee deep. As kids we would play in the water morning til night; skipping rocks, fishing, searching for as many salamanders and frogs as we could get our mud-caked hands on.

But right over the bridge is where my heart lies. The place I envision when some utters the phrase, “Go to your happy place.” Black-Eyed Susan’s and Daisy’s grow in an abundance throughout a huge field. In the late summer if you sit perfectly still you can see the flowers become animated. It’s as if they are dancing a waltz along side the worker bees that are gracefully skipping from flower to flower. Everything is in motion. Enormous Pine trees line the exterior but right in the center if you lay on your back you can see nothing but beautiful, open sky. I always pause for a moment and take it all in as if it would be the last time I would ever see it. If I could stay anywhere for the rest of my life it would be right there in the middle of my piece of heaven. Worries don’t exist here. Stress melts away as you step foot onto the plush green grass. Pressures of perfect drain out of you with each step further and further into its welcoming uncut sod. It’s almost a necessity to stop your car here and slip off your shoes and walk through it. Slowly and carefully pressing your toes with each step so to truly take in its comfort with each and every movement.

As peaceful as it is here, it is not where we are headed. With the field at our backs we only have about a hundred yards to go before the path opens wide and it appears. Right here is home.

It maybe small but its ours. Green wooden shutters outline the front windows that flank the old wooden door; it matches almost perfectly to the old, brownish red logs that lay stacked on top of each other to frame the exterior. Above the door is a simple cedar plaque with 701 hand painted in off white, I’m sure it was a bright, crisp white at one time but through the years the weather has beaten it to its current state. An overgrown spider plant still hangs to the right of the door in a wicker basket. Below, the welcome mat lays torn and dirty. Many of shoes have scrapped on its surface, if only it could talk to tell the stories of our past. The front porch runs the length of the house and has nothing but a simple white wooden banister to mark the segregation of the cool concrete pad of the porch and the unkempt overgrown grass of the lawn. I have spent hours sitting in that over-sized white rocker than claims its place in the corner of the porch just looking out onto the beautiful landscapes that surround me.

Except for the birds singing their love songs, the peaceful crackle of the water and the winds rushing through all the leaves on the long arms of the trees, it is silent here. 

(Advanced Writing Piece)

Hello, Fall!

Knowing that the first day of fall was quickly approaching (which is today for those of you living under a rock), last weekend I decided to do a "Summer's Over" photoshoot with Bean.  It went better than expected however I barely got any of her actually looking and smiling.  None-the-less they are all very her!

Tonight I'm yours, take my hand.

What is life all about for you? 

Money, Happiness, Sucess, Belongings, Family, Career,

any of these... 
all of these...
none of these...

For me, right now, life is about peace.  Not like Miss America "umm.. like I want world peace."  No, I am speaking of peace in my heart & soul.  Feeling totally content with what I am doing and who I am.  Being able to laugh at my mistakes and being able to smile in the joys that life hands you that often flash by you because we are too busy worrying about everything else. 

I call these little things Strawberries;  small, sweet, heart-shaped little reminders that life can be marvelous.  It is truly about stopping and noticing these things.  Taking the time.  This is a big one for me.  I am a "go go go" type of person, I can't help it.  I can very rarely shut off my brain and just relax.  I notice this a lot more now a days since I am trying to get away from this but even when I think I am relaxing my brain is always going....

"laundry really needs done"
"ugh the kitchen is really a mess"
"I need to remember to call so & so"

Something has slowed me down. Well, specifically not just something ... someone!


Someone has been those little strawberries for me.

Someone has shown me how to take the time to slow down and feel the cool water rushing past your bare feet.

Someone has shown me that life is worth taking risks.  Worth making a serious change to see if the end result can be something glorious. 

Someone has taken me by the hand and taken the time to reach into my heart and help me believe again.

He is that someone.

xoxox
-ME

Revelation?

While going through some of the personal statements we had to make for my last semesters Creative Writing course I found this little nugget.  Just another simple reminder that life is where it supposed to be. 

"As for Jossalyn, she is the most amazing thing I have ever done… cliché right?!  Becoming a mother and accepting the fact that my life will never go back to the way it was pre-baby, pre-PPD and pre-affair was the hardest thing I have ever had to experience and conquered to date." 

taking time to stop and feel the water.

life is good!

New beginnings

I am trying to figure out where I would like this blog to go... I used it as a photo spot for Bean pictures when I first started a few years ago.

I am going to use this to post pieces I write throughout the semester for my classes, I am in my senior year of college (woohoo), and am a writing major I will have lots of things that I enjoy and may want to have them opened up to more than just my class and professor.

I am going to use this to post about the difficulties of life as a single mother; willingly single (parenting) or not.  (That is a whole different post)

I am going to use this to post about the troubles of life with a toddler who is allergic to 30 different things.

I am going to use this to post about the crazy, never ending rollercoaster that is my life.




So once again,
HI, I AM EVIE
...welcome to my world!