My cup overflowith

There are so many thing to post about. The absolute joy I can experience looking at my daughter, even saying the words, "my daughter." I have a daughter. The deep down ache when I remember I'm a motherless daughter. The struggle of learning to nurse again after six years, compounded by my daughter's tongue being tied. (The title of the post was originally a reference to the unbelievably hugeness of my boobies. They were flat out scary big for a couple days there! But then I realized it kinda sums things up.) The irrational anger I felt toward an older couple at the doctor's office, why did they get to grow old together and my parents didn't? Trying to define a new relationship with my dad as an adult without my mom as mediator.

I miss my mom, I wish she could see Hope. I do wonder about heaven. I believe in heaven even though I have no concept of what it looks like or feels like. I do have an idea, I guess. Sometimes, when I'm cuddling with one of my children, or I hear an amazing piece of music or I see a beautiful landscape I feel something inside my chest grow or change. It almost feels like my heart is breaking in a good way. I think it may be my soul changing. I think heaven must feel something like that.

I wonder, though, when does a soul enter a body? The movement I felt inside of me, was that Hope or was that just random body reactions? Hope was born six days after my Mom left this world. Did they meet in heaven? Did my Mom hold my daughter before I did? Or is that just wishful thinking? A year ago, I probably would have thought the soul is within the child before birth. I don't know now. A year ago, I was not even sure if we remain our souls when we enter heaven or if we become part of the collective soul of God. What am I talking about? I'm still not sure. I don't think I believe in reincarnation. Life is hard enough the first time through, I don't think we do it over and over.

I love my daughter's name, but I wonder if it is to big for a little girl. Now I am seeing the word "hope" everywhere. I just read "Joy School" by Elizabeth Berg, one of my favorite authors. The plot was okay, but there were some amazing lines, toward the end, "After despair comes hope." How appropriate is that? And I went back to church Sunday, I only went to church once in April and didn't go at all in May. Bed rest and then I just couldn't go on Mother's Day or the Sunday after we lost Mom. The title of the sermon, "Hope never disappoints." Well then.

Hope has arrived

Wednesday all seven siblings were at Dad's house to go through some of Mom's things. Mom had always been a keeper, and after our house burned down 18 years ago, she really held on to things. Their house was always fuller than Dad wanted it to be. He especially wanted us each to pick one item of Mom's as a remembrance. Some things had already been decided, like her engagement and mother's rings. I struggled with what to choose. JJ wanted the piano. Dad hadn't intended us to choose furniture, but it was such an appropriate choice. Cali and I both have our late father-in-laws' pianos and Lu also has a piano. JJ is a much better piano player than I am and it always seemed wrong that I had a piano and she didn't.

Duff's first item was an old trunk he and Mom had redone together. We opened it up and there were bags labeled for each of us filled with our baby clothes. My daughter will be baptized in one of the dress from my bag.

I finally decided to go with her pearl necklace and earrings. I don't have strong memories of her wearing them, but they are something I will wear and know they were my mother's. Then we took turns choosing pieces of Mom's jewelery. One item I choose was one of her magnetic necklaces that binds to itself. I like the look okay, but I'll never forget her playing with the necklace with my guys.

We went through Mom's clothing, much of it will be donated, but most of us choose an item or two that we could either wear or it reminded us strongly of Mom. Then we went through some other items. Dad will be staying in the house for at least the next year and didn't want it emptied, but there were things he wanted us to go through. The day went pretty well, there were some tears, of course. I didn't cry though which kinda surprised me. We did not argue at all, there may have been some slights, there were a few items more than one of us wanted. But we did not argue. We discussed and relented and I think for the most part we are all satisfied. I am; I made an effort to only take what I would either use or really reminded me of Mom.

I started having some contractions late in the afternoon, harder than I'd had most the day. AJ and Cali lightly poked me in the tummy to try and encourage more contractions. They both had to go home on Thursday and they wanted Little Miss to be born sooner rather than later. Their prodding worked, I had more contractions. The plan had been for Dad to give me a ride home since I could drive the hour myself. As we had gone through stuff, I'd been putting mine in Dad's car. Suddenly, Dad realized that I was walking slower and stopping to take deep breaths. He decided to bring me home immediately! It was like a sitcom with everyone frantically trying to get me out the door. I said I didn't think anything would happen that night. Dad said he had heard my mother say that more than once and it was time to go! He hadn't delivered any of his children and he did not intend to deliver a grandchild. The ride home was quiet. I tried hard not to annoy my dad with idle chit chat. I had a couple contractions in the car, but they weren't too bad.

When I got home I decided it was time to have this baby. She would be born sometime in the next 10 days, why not now? So instead of laying down I started cleaning, bending down to load the dishwasher, going up and down the stairs several times. I started having more hard contractions, I kept going. Finally we decided to head to the hospital just before 8 pm. We live less than four blocks away so we walked. I figured that would help things along. The guys walked along, my MIL picked them up from the hospital.

The nurse who checked me first said I was dilated to 5, on Monday my doctor said I was 4-5. I was so worried they would send me home. The nurse said my doctor would make that decision when she got there. I did not want to go home! My doctor got there and checked. She said I was 5-6, 70% effaced and had a bulging bag. I could stay, we would be having a baby! I actually yelled "Yippee" out loud. It was the happiest I'd been in a couple weeks.

My doctor asked if I'd rather her break my water first or have the epidural. I'd been having second thoughts about the epidural, until I had another hard contraction then I decided I should have a contractions. I'd had an epidural with my first, but hadn't thought it had help much until I had my second with nothing. So I had the epidural. Holy crap, it was awesome! I barely noticed when they broke my water. They had to tell me when I was having contractions.

I spent the next hour and a half waiting to dilate. My doctor sat in the rocking chair and we chit chatted. Jim walked home to get the car and my overnight bag. I hadn't wanted to take it in case they sent me home, superstitious I guess. My doctor went to check on a few things. While I was alone, I got a little weepy, which I guess is going to happen.

My doctor checked me again and I was still 6, I stayed a six for an hour and a half. My mom had had really fast deliveries, I knew she would be wondering what was taking me so long. I called AJ to let her know what was happening. Then I asked her to come be with me. I'd never had anyone in the delivery room besides Jim before. But I wanted one of my sister with me, or even two. Jim and I had joked about it before, but I knew he would be okay with it. AJ and JJ decided to come down. Five minutes later I was dilated to 7. Still wasn't feeling a thing, in fact my legs were completely numb by this point. With Jim and my doctor back I was joking and giggling. It could not have been more different from my other deliveries.

25 minutes into my sisters' hour drive, my doctor checked again and it was time to push. I really had no idea, one heck of an epidural! 15 minutes and 3 hard pushes later Hope Athena entered the world. She is so lovely, with the longest fingers I have ever seen. She is 7 pounds and 11 ounces, and 20 inches long. My sisters got her about 15 minutes after she was born. Cali and my dad came on their way to the airport. Cali kept thanking me for having Hope before she left. Peg came in the afternoon as did my mom's only sister. I wish Mom was here, but to quote Anne Lemott, "It isn't nearly enough, but somehow it is."

One day at a time

We buried my mother today. It was a beautiful service, people always say that, but it really was. AJ, the baby of the family gave the eulogy. She did such an amazing job. My sil sang "One Day at a Time", it was lovely. Peg put together a photo montage, it started with "Memories are made of This", sung by Dean Martin showing pictures of my mom and dad. There weren't many dry eyes in the church.

This has been an awful couple months, but one of the few really bright spots of the last couple months (other than impending arrival of Little Miss) has been watching my parents' marriage. I never doubted that my parents loved each other. They had some bad times, I remember some and heard about others, but my parents had a good marriage, I knew that. But watching them over the last couple months has been a priviledge. That last conversation I had with my mother, she started with her concerns about my dad, how would he do without her. Dad had gone home to mow the lawn, his favorite Zen activity. When he returned to the hospital, Dad moved his chair as close as he could to Mom's bed. He put his hand on hers. He has been so gentle and concerned about her. He was at the hospital everyday.

I'm doing okay, really I am, right now. It was a rough day, I've cried on and off, but not as much as I thought I would. And when I did cry, it was at really odd times, I think I cried the hardest this morning when I was ironing Jim's shirt. I know I'm not done greaving or anything, I know it will hit me hard at different times. But tonight I feel okay. I'm so glad I didn't go into labor before the funeral.

May 13th

My mom is gone. Yesterday evening, her breathing became very labored. Dad, Lu, and Dad's brother were with her. The nurse came in and told them it could be that night. Lu called all of us. I started getting things together, called my MIL to stay with the guys. I don't think it was 20 minutes later when Lu called and told me she was gone.

Mom opened her eyes and looked at Dad. Dad told her it was okay, she could go. Never one to wait around when she wanted something done, she took her last breath.

I'm okay, when acknowledged that "okay" is a relative term. I've cried some. Yesterday afternoon, Lu called and told me the nurses didn't think it would be long. I cried and screamed just a little when I hung up with her. They didn't think it would be yesterday, but over the weekend. Saturday is Peg's little boy's 1st birthday and Sunday is Peg's. Dad prayed that it wouldn't happen on their birthdays. I just really wanted to be there, but like I said, Mom was rarely described as a patient person.

It has been cold since last Friday. People have been complaining, but like I said, it felt right to me. Watching the news earlier this week, the weatherman said it would warm on Friday. I told Jim I thought we would lose Mom before it got warm. Jim didn't agree, he said the weather wouldn't control my mom. I said Mom would control the weather, kidding. Today will be the first day in a week that it will be above 60 degrees. It will be near 70.

I see my doctor this morning and then I plan on going to my parent's small town to plan the funeral. I know one song that will be played,

"One Day at a time, sweet Jesus.
That's all I'm asking from you
Just give me the strength
To do everyday, what I have to do.
Yesterday's gone sweet Jesus
And tomorrow may never be mine"

A part of life

I'm sorry. I started this blog wanting to have a balance of my struggles and joys, heavy on the joys and humor. And obviously, by looking at the name, you can see I planned on discussing my spiritual thoughts and emotions. Well, I have been dealing with struggles lately and my blog posts have been very raw and today's will be no exception.

I'm officially off bed rest, but still pregnant and laying around mostly. I'm up more than I had been, but my energy level is really low, makes me a little nervous because how am I going to have the energy to get through delivery? I also have a cold; sinus headache, cough and the ear congestion. It sucks so badly. I'm taking Sudafed and Tylenol during the day and Benadryl at night. I usually try not to take meds when I'm pregnant, but I have to breathe and think. I have more contractions in the evenings. Both Monday and Tuesday night, Jim timed contractions. There were a couple really hard ones that I thought meant something, but they stopped. I think, okay, I'm going to get up and walk around make these contractions keep going. And then I chicken out, because more contractions hurt and they mean that I will soon be pushing a baby out of my vagina. I know, I know, she has to come out somehow and I don't want a C-section. But I'm freaking out about it just a little. I've done it twice before, I know I can do it. But I'm freaking out just a little.

My mom was moved from the hospital to a hospice center on Monday. It is a lovely place, Mom's room is a small suite, her room looks like a nice hospital room and there is a sitting room attached with a fold out couch. We took the guys out of school yesterday to see her. We'd thought about going after school, but it seemed like Mom has been more alert in the morning most days and mornings are much better for me. Driving up there I knew it was the last my boys were going to see my mom before the funeral. Even if she goes another week and even if Little Miss is born it time, I'm not going to take the guys again. I cried a couple times on the hour drive up. And walking in the center and knowing this is the last place my mom will see, it's almost too much.

My mom had had a rough night before thrashing and asking for Dad. Dad was in the next room. The nurse woke him and he sat beside Mom. They gave her some more Morphine. She said something about being all alone. Dad stayed in the chair next to her the rest of the night even though she didn't wake again during the night. There are French doors between the two rooms. We could sit on the couch and watch her breathe. She was snoring, she's always snored. She wasn't wearing her little hat, just grey fuzz covered her head. Dad took the guys to the play room. He was adamant he didn't want them to sit and watch her breathe. He wanted Mom to see them, but he didn't want to wake her and didn't want her struggling to breathe to be their only memory of her. Jim went to the play room with them. Dad came back. My sister, JJ was there as well as Auntie Faye and my brother Duff's wife came soon after. She is due in July so we sat there with our big bellies. Dad was very concerned about me, he was mad at Jim for not dropping me off at the door. He said just because the doctor said I could be up and around didn't mean I should walk more then necessary. Dad kept telling me to sit down. Mom's youngest brother and his wife came later in the morning.

We all sat around and talked, sometimes about Mom sometimes about other things, it felt very surreal. Mom started waking up and I went in to talk to her. I could barely hear her. She wanted the door close, Dad said no. The nurses, who were wonderful, came in to move her around to prevent bed sores. She went back to sleep. The nurse said she would give her Morphine to keep her comfortable. Before they could, I brought the guys in. She opened her eyes, and smiled just a little at them. They told her they loved her and said good bye. Dad said it was time for them to go. The nurse gave her more Morphine. I don't think she opened her eyes again yesterday.

Jim took the guys to get new dress pants and to Mc Donalds. Duff's wife went to her sister's house. JJ, Dad, and Faye went for lunch. I stayed with Mom and my uncle and aunt and watched Mom breathe. Jim has been just amazing through all this. I can't imagine doing this without him. After they finished shopping and eating, he picked me up (at the door) and we went a little out of our way home to bring Mom's wig to the beautician who has done Mom's hair for years to trim it just a little. Mom told me on Saturday the bangs were too long and I told her I would take it to Barb and have her fix it.

Lu drove the three hours to the biggish city to the north after work yesterday to spend the night with Mom. I talked to her this morning, it was a rough night. Mom is rasping now. The nurses don't think it will be much longer now. Not today, but probably this weekend. I told Lu I was going to call my doctor and ask if I could go back on the medicine to stop the contractions and try to keep Little Miss in until we get through this. Dad called soon after I talked to Lu. He asked me not to take the medicine, to let God decide when she is born. When is sister died two years, AJ had her son two days later and it was a good thing. It made him feel better that as one life was leaving another was coming. Please let God decide, it's part of life. Of course, I will respect my father's wishes.

Snippets of the weekend

It's been really chilly for May. Most people have been complaining, but it's fine with me. It was such a long winter with all the bad crap happening. My mom is dying, the weather should be crappy, a break from spring is okay with me.

Because I was still on bedrest, I needed to use a wheelchair to visit my mom this weekend. Jim wheeled me up to the 3rd floor to the transplant wing. The third floor also had the maternity ward. Everyone was grinning at me assuming it was one of the happiest days of my life and it wasn't. Long way from the happiest day. One women with a German accent told me I looked, "Happy like a million dollars."

I decided I was close enough to being off bed rest that Sunday I would be up and about more. I had even thought about going to church. But I decided against it. I couldn't imagine listening to the minister, who I adore, talking about the importance of a mother's love while my mother is dying.

I really decided to do my best to ignore Mother's Day. The guys both made me wonderful gifts at school. I'd told Jim last week I wanted a simple necklace as a Mother's Day gift. He was going to buy it at Kohl's Friday afternoon. But he came home early because I'd gotten the call about Mom. Saturday, Jim mentioned something about the gift and I asked him not to buy me anything. I just didn't even what to think about it. He did buy me my favorite candy bar.

I turned on the TV when I first got up to watch Sunday Morning on CBS. The minister who came on first said, "We are to live hope abundantly."

Joey made me a "Mom Map." He drew our house, Gamma's house, and church, because Mom likes to go to church.

Jim was amazing. He made my coffee as always, helped me clean up here and there. He made lunch, bought his mom a lovely plant, and brought the guys to his mom's house for a couple hours. My MIL is a wonderful woman who gave me an Amazon gift card for Mother's Day. I couldn't talk to her yesterday, just couldn't do it. I talked to several of my sisters, but I didn't even call Mom. I told her Happy Mother's Day on Saturday and it's difficult for her to talk on the phone.

I thanked Jim last night, for making what I hope is my worst Mother's Day ever better than it could have been. I am blessed to have him.

Sitting and waiting

I'm sitting in my mother's hospital room. My dad and husband went downstairs to eat. My kids and most of my sister's are 3 hours away at my nephew's graduation celebration. I'm sitting by the window, the sun is on the side of my face. Mom is sleeping. I am losing my mom. She is leaving us. Tomorrow is Mother's Day.

My cousin, Sara, sat with me for awhile. She lost her dad in February. She said a couple times that it wasn't fair, everything going on. I thought, hell, I gave up fair a long time ago. This isn't fair, it just is.

Mom has slept most the day. She wakes up a little when new company comes and then drifts back to sleep. I was a little frustrated earlier, feeling like she would wake up for other company and sleep for me. Why couldn't she wake up and talk to me? But when all the company was gone for a little while, she woke up and grabbed my hand. "We need to talk," she said. She told me she was worried about my dad and how would he handle life without her. I assured her we would take care of Dad. She said the house must be a mess, she couldn't imagine the last time it was dusted. I told her I'd take my Flylady feather duster over there and dust it. She smiled at that. Then she told me what she wants to wear. It took me a second to realize she meant for her funeral. I listened carefully and told her we'd take care of it. She wants to wear long sleeves because her arms are bruised and she doesn't want anyone to see them. Then she told me which jewelery she wants to wear. Her wedding ring is too big right now, but she doesn't want it to be cut. I told her we would put tape on the back of it so it would look good. Of course, we'll take care of it, I told her. We were both crying, I sat on the edge of her bed and hugged her over our two big bellies. Mine holding a new life, hers full of cancer.

When I talked to JJ yesterday, she said her anger towards God was directed about Christmas. Why couldn't we have had one more Christmas? It's Mom's favorite holiday, it's Mom's birthday for Christ sakes! There was a huge blizzard this past Christmas. We were all suppose to get together in Minneapolis. I was stranded in North Carolina, Cali couldn't leave California. Lu was stuck in her town. JJ, Peg, and Duff were together in the Biggish City to the South. AJ was the only one in Minneapolis where she lives, she was with her in laws. Mom and Dad spent Christmas home with just each other. I called Mom from the beach house. I was happy to be stranded in a beach house rather than an airport. Mom seemed okay, but she was a little pissy. I told her she and Dad had had 40 some odd Christmases surrounded by family like she enjoys, now they were having Dad's type of quiet Christmas. They ate something they both enjoyed and then played cards, gin rummy I believe. Besides, I told Mom we would all be together for New Years and there would be tons more Christmases. Of course, we didn't get together for New Year's. Cali's husband got sick and Mom and Dad drove out there. Mom wasn't feeling good. She was diagnosed out there, the day before Cali's husband's funeral. That is one crazy ass sentence.

I think I'm done screaming now

On Thursday, Jim and I went to see my mom. She was much weaker than I'd expected. She was still Mom, but weak. Our visit was nice. Dad wasn't there, Mom's sister Faye was. I don't remember what we talked about. Her voice was very quiet and she had trouble finding words sometimes. She was concerned about how I was doing and how far dilated I was.

When we were leaving, we bumped into Dad in the hallway. Chit chatted a little. He was worried about Mom. She seemed to be getting weaker rather than stronger. He said he'd pestered the doctor until they did another CAT scan. We would know the results on Friday he thought.

Yesterday, I tried to call my dad to see if they'd gotten the results. He didn't answer. So I tried to call Joni. I wanted to see if she'd heard about the scan, but I also wanted to see if she'd bought anything for Mother's Day or if she wanted to go together with Lu and me. She answered, I said, hi it's Gina and she started crying. I asked her what was the matter, she asked if I'd talked to Dad yet. I tried to get her to tell me what was going on, she said I needed to talk to Dad and then call her back. I asked if she had someone with her, she said someone was coming, then we hung up. And I waited for Dad's call, it was awful. I called Jim, I paced, I waited.

Dad called. He asked where I was and if I had someone I could talk to after we got off the phone. The CAT scan had shown that the Lymphoma was back. They exhausted all their options including some experimental ones. Did I understand what that meant? Yes. I asked about hospice, he would be meeting someone about it. He didn't think she would be able to go home, but she would be going to a hospice facility. I asked how long, he said a couple weeks. I stayed mostly calm while on the phone. I asked if I should come up and he said no. Dad told me to take care of myself and the baby and to call my minister and Jim. I told Dad my doctor said the baby could be born next week and be okay. He said yeah, that's how it seemed to work in his life. A new life comes as another life slips away. I asked if I could do anything, and he said he couldn't think of anything.

I hung up and started crying. Then I started screaming, almost keening like the women did back in history. A very small rational part of my brain would remind me every once in awhile to breathe, that the baby needed oxygen. I did not want to go into labor.

I paced. I picked up. I called Jim, he said he would come home early. I called my minister. He said, Wow, and that he would visit soon.

I cry some, then I'm okay. I've told a few people. Lu updated the Caringbridge site last night after Dad had called everyone. I've sent a couple e-mails to friends far away. Jim took me to my doctor appointment. I'm fine, dilated to four, but my doctor said I can go back and see my mom today. My doctor was very nice. After Monday, I think I'm going to do whatever I can to go into labor quickly. I think, but then again, if she stays put, then I'm able to go up to see my mom. But then I'm always waiting and wondering if I'm going to go into labor. I don't know.

I told the guys with Jim by my side. That was hard. I explained that Grandma's cancer was worse and the medicine wasn't helping anymore and that she would be going to heaven. Jon cried. Joey asked why he was crying. Joey asked if everyone who has cancer dies, and I said no. Although I guess everyone dies eventually. Jim says I handled telling the guys well, I don't know.

People, the few I've seen, want to hug me. I don't want to be hugged. I don't know why. I'm usually a hug person, but I don't want to hug. My MIL brought supper over last night. At one point she asked something about Mother's Day. I wanted to scream. I don't give a shit about Mother's Day right now.

Almost everyone loses their mom at some point. Unless the mother loses a child, which is worse, I know that. I've had my mother twice as long as she had hers. She's been there for me for so many things. I'm not ready. And my mom having weeks to live when I will give birth in the next couple weeks, what the hell?

My mom holding Joey six years ago.

Story at 10

I had an interesting morning! Yesterday the local news channel ran a story about banking your baby's cord blood. Actually the national ABC news was to do a story about it as well, but it was pre-empted by the arrest of the New York City bomber, rightfully so. I was very interested to see the story. When Jon was born in North Carolina, we donated his cord blood for research. Honestly, I don't think I even asked about it when Joey was born. However, when we found out in March that Mom would need a bone marrow transplant, I started doing some research. I thought I remembered from My Sister's Keeper, that cord blood could be used to treat leukemia. Yes, I realize it is a work of fiction, but it was worth checking out!

When Googling "cord blood", or even "donating cord blood", the vast majority of sites that pop up are for banking your child's cord blood, for the modest fee of around $2,000 initially and $125 a year storage fee. I finally found www.marrow.org which is operated by the National Marrow Donor Program. A beautiful site, their catch phrase is "Donate Umbilical Cord Blood. Give Birth to Hope." Helllooo! It seemed like everything was fitting together. It had taken three years to get pregnant, but maybe it was part of a grand plan. Maybe my daughter, who I wanted to name Hope, would be able to save her grandmother. I could not find any information on donating to a grandparent on the site so I found the phone number and called. I spoke with a lovely and patient woman. I explained that my mother had leukemia and lymphoma and that I wanted to my daughter’s cord blood to be used for her. She explained it was not an option. Family cord blood donations only work for siblings or parents of the baby. It is the same reason children are not generally able to donate bone marrow to their parents. Each of us receives half of our DNA from both parents, so we don’t match either parent. I started quietly crying at that point.

I took a deep breath and asked how I could donate the cord blood. If it couldn’t help my mom, I wanted it to help someone. My kind, patient operator looked it up for me. There are no cord blood banks in my state or the surrounding 3 states. She told me she was sorry, but I could not donate. I thanked her, hung up and cried so hard I got the hiccups.

So I was very interested to see last night’s stories. But first the national story was pre-empted. And the local story was all about banking your newborn’s cord blood. I was pissed. Cord blood banking is expensive and you may never need the cord blood. Donated cord blood could be used, but it thrown away everyday here in the Midwest. I watched the local story, got pissed and because I’m on bed rest and have access to a lap top, I sent an e-mail. I got a call and this morning I was interviewed for tonight’s local news. How about that?

Middle of the night

I can't sleep. Big surprise, I'm almost 35 weeks pregnant, show me a pregnant woman who sleeps soundly, and I'll be looking for her sleeping pills. Which are, by the way, sometimes allowed. In the hospital, they gave me Ambien, I haven't slept that well in months! It was great, so good I didn't ask for a prescription. I have a deep seated fear of addiction and anything that lets me sleep that well should not be in my medicine cabinet. Pills are actually part of the problem tonight. I had some pretty good contractions, regular for awhile today. So I took the "stop 'em" pill, which works, but also makes me very jittery. My doctor recommends I take them with Benadryl, I did this afternoon and slept for a couple hours. I woke up not jittery, but now I can't sleep.

I've been tossing and turning, not easy at 35 weeks, but manageable. As always, I'm over thinking things. Beyond the whole having a baby (OMG!), money woes, and my mom having cancer, I've got more drama. Well, little drama compared to what's been going on. By the way, last Saturday, my dad was held up at gunpoint. What does it say about our lives that being held up is a side story? He is fine, he was at a friend's poker game, my dad is a really good poker player, and these guys showed up and robbed them all. Dad is playing down the whole thing, treating it like anecdote already. He lost some money, but he is fine. And really what's money compared to finding out the the chemo worked and his wife is going to make it? Well, probably make it, those doctors don't exactly hand out promises.

Back to my drama, I got an e-mail from a friend at school. She is taking a position at the high school and she thinks I would be a "perfect fit" for her position at the middle school, teaching 8th grade language arts. I received another e-mail from the school librarian encouraging me to take the position. I think I would just have to tell my principal I'm interested and the job would be mine, unless another teacher who has been with the district longer wants it.

I am torn. I love teaching the one section of 8th grade language arts I currently teach, but do I want to teach it all day long? I would go from 5 different classes with no more than 8 students to teaching the same, or very similar classes, 5 times every day with 20 some odd kids in each class. And they are 8th graders, so I do mean odd! Plus it is a Lit/Comp class. I would have to teach research papers and grammar.

BUT, and this is a huge one, I wouldn't have to teach math. No math. It's been okay, but the fact that I teach 7th grade math is hugely ironic. I barely passed 7th grade math. Now my loving and devoted sister, AJ, says that the fact I had "problems" with math myself makes me uniquely qualified to understand my students who struggle. I think she has a point, but I wouldn't have to teach math at all. No more "Please excuse my dear aunt Susan," or multiplying mixed numbers, or worrying that I am screwing my math students more up than they were to begin with. No more blank looks during fifth period. Well, I guess I can't guarantee no more blank looks, but I am much better at engaging students in reading than in math. I would still teach To Kill a Mockingbird. But it would be starting over again, but not completely since I've taught one section of 8th grade language arts for two years. And the job would have more security than I've had for awhile. There is only one 8th grade language arts teacher, they already eliminated the separate reading teacher so they can't get rid of the language arts position, whereas I feel like my current position is always the next on the chopping block.

So there's the job thing, and then there's the fact I'm going to be having a baby sometime in the next month, holy crap! All things considered, I'd love to simply quit my job and stay home with Little Miss next year. Or quit the math section and continue teaching my three reading groups. But the kiddos would like to continue eating regularly so I guess I'll need to keep working.