Skip to main content

Life’s MESSages

I haven’t written many blog posts in the past year. One, I struggled with finding the time. I know shocker right with two young children, career, and doctorate. The other reason though is I was dealing with an internal battle. I struggled with the line between upbeat and positive posts and how much to share of the harder and tougher posts. Another way to compare it, would be unicorns or also sometimes referred to as unicorn farts. Sure, I’ve shared my fair share of poop stories, after all I am the mother to two boys. But I’m not sure I’ve ever written about farts. However, the unicorn holds a special place in many of my fellow Rockin’ moms. If you want to read of another blog post about the significance of the unicorn click here. The following is my explanation.

To explain, right after Kaleb’s diagnosis I would get online and I would find many uplifting and inspirational stories of parents talking about how quickly they came to terms with a Down syndrome diagnosis, how it is the greatest thing in the world, and everything is essentially rainbows and unicorns. Some, more eloquently refer to it as unicorn farts.  I liked these stories, I wanted desperately to believe them, I held on to this hope that they were true, but I wasn’t sold. Others like I was in the beginning and especially others outside of the Down syndrome adventure, have a hard time believing this and view it as people who spout off this nonsense must either be lying or in denial. In other words, these unicorn farts are just that, simply nonsense and a nice spin on Down syndrome. In their mind, they believe that these unicorn farts, call them or color them what you want, but in the end it all comes off crap.

Trust me, there is crap involved. A lot of it being our own insecurities, the world’s perception of different, mixed in with the chance of increased medical issues, longer wait times for milestones, and the need for a little more patience. I was also afraid that by sharing some of the hard parts of Down syndrome and his other health issues it would highlight the difficulties and not the amazing, albeit ornery, little boy he is. Because most parents will tell you that that extra chromosome will teach them so many extra life lessons that they wouldn’t have learned any other way. So many do this primarily sharing the sunshine, rainbows, and unicorns; myself included.

I began to realize my posts were becoming all sunshine, rainbows, and unicorns. I saw it. I also felt bad, because I realized I began to wait to write until I could put the positive to it. Then by life being life and being hard, I didn’t write. By doing this I wasn’t sharing the whole story. I believe there needs to be a combination. In fact what good is the positives and good, if not for the hard parts? It really started being put on my heart that in order to really share our journey that I needed to get back to sharing all of it. I believe there is beautiful in the messes of life. That it is in the mess of life that we often find life’s messages. You can’t even spell messages without the word mess in it. No mess, no message.



This is me getting back to writing and sharing our stories. So here are life’s MESSages. The good, the bad, the ugly. The unicorns and the unicorn farts. I will share the times that seem all sunshine, rainbows, and unicorns farts; as well as the days those unicorn farts are more stinky than glittery. 


(This picture just made me laugh and I had to share). 😉

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Preemie Mom: Grief from pregnancy and delivery

I don’t have baby fever. Nope, not at all. Instead I’m the person tagging my husband on the story of the vasectomy celebration thrown by a wife for her husband. Complete with the snip snip hooray cake.

However, when I see a big pregnant belly or hear of a mom talking about packing her hospital bag, the twinges come. This is when the twinges of grief and dare I say envy come in every now and then.

I’m a preemie mom. As preemie mom I lost out on the last three months of pregnancy. I just got to the third trimester in time to have my pregnancy unexpectedly come to an end. Suddenly, gone was my time to spend with my oldest as I savored the last little bit of him as my only little boy, my baby. Gone was the time of planning and prepping the nursery. And yes, gone was the time of sleepless nights, crazy feeling hiccups, heart burn, and aches and pains. Basically the unpleasant but proud markers of pregnancy.

I lost out on so much. I didn’t get to post to social media asking for everyone’s h…

Our Stories

Our Stories: Reflections of the 2018 DSDN Rockin' Mom Retreat
After last year’s DSDN Rockin’ Mom retreat I wrote about the power of our hands. (Linked here). This year I leave with the importance of stories. Our stories. Everyone who has heard Bethany Van Delft's story was very excited to hear from her. Even though I was two years removed from our diagnosis and therefore past the initial processing of our diagnosis and the accompanying emotions, it brought me to tears when I listened to her story.

Every time I share our story or hear a story that I connect with at such an intense level it brings a sense of release. Sometimes it's those stories of our tough times, times when we feel so alone, that people relate to the most. That when we bring ourselves to share, we realize how truly similar we are to what others have felt and we connect to those stories. Those stories can bond us. They can change us. They can empower us.

At the retreat Bethany spoke about the events surround…

SPANX and Parenting

I will never forget when I went to an interview almost eight years ago. I felt uncomfortable in the dress I was wearing so I got some shapewear. (The 33 year old me who has since housed and birthed two tiny humans, now rolls my eyes at the 25 year old me. Shapewear. 🙄 Oh hun, just wait a few years...). I digress... So 25 year old me goes to this interview attempting to put my best face, or waist, forward.

However, while sitting in the chair they had led me to I waited for the interviewer to arrive. I looked down and to my horror my shapewear had slid down and was now showing underneath my dress. I discreetly attempted to push it back up while appearing to be a professional lady simply waiting for the interview. At this point in time I was listing to myself all the reasons why I should have been comfortable to go as me. That I didn’t need shapewear. Needless to say there wasn’t a way to pull it up to stay. And of course they wanted to give a tour and I spent the whole dang time wonderi…