Nature vs Nurture?

I had been so nervous, yet excited to meet my second daughter.  I had known that her birthmom was pregnant for a long time and had been asked to parent her as I was already parenting her birth sister Sedona and her birth mother could not.  I was not sure I could do it, but I made the commitment to Dove that I would at least try, and I made that commitment before she was even born.

I wondering what she looked like, and if she looked like Sedona. I was entering the same hospital, same nursery that I had spent so many hours in 16 months prior with Sedona. It was under much different circumstances however, because due to a lot of 'red tape', Dove was four weeks old when Sedona & I first got to meet her.

I sat in a chair directly across from a 'foster mom', who was not DOVE'S foster mom, but the birth mother's old foster mom.  She was an old witch, and it made me furious and uncomfortable at the same time.  It took a lot for me not to kick that old bat in the ass to be honest.  There was a bit of a history there though, one not intended for this post.

The nurse finally brought Dove in.  I was allowed to hold her finally (there were several rules about the visit) and all I can remember is seeing her HUGE cheeks. That's all you could see. Just cheeks.  Not the usual native baby pancake face cheeks.  They were monster cheeks.  And she didn't look a damn thing like Sedona.

Dove had very little hair, again, unlike Sedona.  She was also chubby and I remember being surprised because I expected a 'newborn' but in reality she was already 4 weeks old and big enough to wear 0-3 month old clothes already instead of 'newborn'.

The anticipation I had for Dove was unbelievable.  I had to wait much longer than I did with Sedona, praying that her birth mother would 'take it easy' for Dove's sake.  It was agonizing, and period from when Dove was actually born until the time I got to meet her was even worse.  Every day for months I looked at the newborn neutral coloured outfit I bought for her, feeling so much fear for what was going on for this little baby.  With Sedona, I only knew about her 3 weeks prior to her birth, and I met her at 2 hours old. That was a bit easier I think. Also having an emotional tie to the birth mother, and not being able to do ANYTHING to help her was difficult.  If you know anything about our family, you know that we are very loyal to each other, although a few of us have problems accepting that love and commitment.

Back to dear Dove.

The nurse puts her in my arms while saying "she is such a good baby, one of the best babies we have".

It was all such a wonderful moment.

Then Dove figured out she was in my arms, and within about five seconds started screaming.  Not whimpering, not a little cry.  She just looked up at me from beyond the big cheeks, and started screaming.

Remember, I've got the old witch of a foster mom staring right at me. And the nurse who just said she was so wonderful.

I try doing all the usual stuff - changing positions, patting her back, patting her bum, rocking a bit, talking to her, hushing her. Nothing works. I had to give her back to the nurse, because way back then, I refused to let any baby cry for longer than about 45 seconds I think.  I didn't want to hurt their attachment.

As soon as little Dove got back to the nurse, she was quiet.  I felt like crap.  And the visit was pretty much over after a few pictures.
...........
Four years later:

Putting Sedona and Dove to bed and they are both melting down from exhaustion.  Dove starts to have a temper tantrum which is actually unusual for her.  Sedona, being my 'explosive child' is beginning to really meltdown, so I decide to deal with her first, as I can only soothe one at a time.

Then Sedona says: "mom why do you love me more than Dove?"

I ask her to repeat, and she says it again.  I almost break into tears.

I didn't expect to have this conversation so early on, but ok, I guess life isn't planned.

I explain to Sedona that I love both my girls the same amount.  I explain what love looks like, for example, my girls eating good food and having nice clothes is one way I show I love them (apart from the usual hugs, kisses etc).  Sedona claims to understand this.

Then I explain that everyone is different and both my girls are different.  My Sedona needs more hugs than Dove.  My Sedona cries a little more than my Dove.

All this time, I am trying to keep my own issues at bay.  I know that it appears I love Sedona more than Dove, but I don't.  Flashbacks of our first meeting came flooding back because I always felt like she 'hated' me from the moment she met me.  I used to worry that Dove and I had a disorganized attachment, meaning, we really didn't bond that well when she was an infant.  To be honest, having two babies 16 months apart as a single mom was very difficult.  I don't know how we all survived to be brutally honest.

However, I love Dove with all my heart.  I can identify with Dove more than I can identify with Sedona sometimes.  Dove is the 'easier' child to parent.  She has her issues, but it's nothing compared to Sedona.

Dove has always been one to not need a lot of cuddling, or hugs and that is how she is the extreme opposite of Sedona.  Dove is content to walk around the house writing on her 'waitress pad', taking pretend restaurant orders from everyone, meanwhile, Sedona needs to climb all over me and twist my hair for comfort. This used to worry me to no end; I used to feel a lot of guilt because it actually looked to me, and everyone else that I did show more signs of affection to Sedona than I do to Dove.

Dove needs me to show her love in a different way, and this is what has inspired me to write such a long post.  As a mother to two little girls who are not biologically related to me in any way, this is a unique struggle.  I can't say my girls are like me, or like their father, and I don't have the natural instinct that is there with most moms/babies.  As an adoptive parent, you have to figure out not only what parenting style works best for your child, but what AFFECTION style works best too.

Dove needs me to put her to bed in the same way every night so that she feels loved.  She needs me to take note of her special interests, such as wildlife documentaries, horses, keys, little items, and buy her them so she knows I'm taking an interest in her.  For Dove to feel loved, she needs me only give her a 5 second hug instead of a 10 second hug, and allow her to do most of the initiating of the physical contact.

Four years later, I finally understand what was going on the very first time I met Dove.  She just needed to be loved differently than my first, and I feel confident I did that without even being conscious of it.  Instincts?

Mean moms

I have been fortunate enough to be able to afford to put my daughters in many extracurricular activities since they were both infants.  Not many single moms can do this, nor a single mom to two.  They have done infant music, swimming lessons, ballet, yoga, and of course gymnastics.

Today, while watching Sedona in her 'competitive' gymnastics class (they are the youngest girls in the competitive stream of gymnastics, averaging in age at about 5 years old) I had to deal with 'sport moms'.  Wow. Let's give a history of my experience with the gymnastics mom's associated with Sedona's class.

Firstly, Sedona attends gymnastics for 2 hrs once per week.  That means it's not enough time to leave and go do something, so we moms have to sit and watch.  There is a nice viewing area that is outside the gym so as not to distract the gymnasts too much.

So, the group of us always go up and sit in a loosely formed group.  We've done this since September and there is about five of us.  It's been mainly nice 'hellos' and 'oh your kid looks so cute', then politely going back to the iphone distraction we all have.  In the past two months or so this dynamic has slowly changed.

Three of the moms have become 'friends'.  I found out today their kids all attend the same school, same dance school, and do soccer.  They have been having a few playdates etc.   I'm not like these moms.  I don't have a fancy house on the hill, I don't have a husband who works really hard so I can stay home, I don't have the energy to pack my kids a snack everywhere we go (much less a gluten/dye/meat free one).  I'm not skinny, blonde or have a blonde kid either.  And I don't care to.

However, one of these moms is genuinely quite nice and I like her quite a bit.  We talk as long as we can without the louder moms interrupting and going off one of their mom 'must talk' topics (usually running, lululemon etc). She forces the other moms to include me, kinda like highschool.

I try to be social, but this type of social is not my style.  I hate to say this, but I am an educated woman, and these woman tend to make my feminist fur stand on end.  I can't stand how dependent they are on their husbands, or how unhappy they are in their marriages and think the only thing they can do is be a mom.  They are like the mean girls of high school all over again, but reality has hit them hard in the ass and they don't quite get it yet.  It's not so nice to have the 'perfect' life sometimes, is it?

Anyways, they know very little about me, as I am a person that takes awhile to get to know.  Today, while watching our girls, one mom says to me "how come your little girl can't seem to do her flip on the vault - is she just fooling around?".  I was shocked to hear this.  It didn't seem like I knew this woman long enough for her to say ANYTHING but nice things about my daughter.

Maybe I'm a bit defensive, but it certainly didn't sit right with me. I've never said anything but good things about ALL of their kids (even when I didn't feel like it).  The 'nice' mom got instantly uncomfortable.  Time slowed down for me as I debated how to respond.  Do I ignore it? Do I get pissed and tell her off? Do I educate her on how ignorant her words are? Or do I just find a way to put her foot in her mouth?

Needless to say, I chose the last option.

In a calm, friendly voice I reply : "I adopted Sedona.  She has some learning disabilities which sometimes makes it hard for her to learn things.  It could be that she doesn't understand how to do the flip, or it could be like any other child and she is just afraid.  I don't think Sedona is fooling around, she is trying really hard to do it".

Silence.

And I turn to wave to Sedona.

She smiles, tries to say something to me even though there is a glass window between us, and runs to get in line to do the vault again.  I must also note that she was 1 out of 5 girls NOT fooling around - she really wanted to learn the vault.

Then the mom says: "Oh, so how long have you had her?"

I reply "Since she was 2 hours old".

Then she asks "where is she from?".  This confused me a bit at the time, but now I realize she thought Sedona must be an internationally adopted child, probably from Haiti or Africa or something.  I reply simply "Vancouver".  End of conversation. I should have said the full reality - "the downtown eastside of Vancouver".

Being asked this question today resonated with me today.  I guess I've always struggled with when to (and if I need to) tell people my girls are adopted.  I mean, we go uptown and get stared at, and I get a bit defensive. I always assume people are thinking "look at that mother, she obviously had two kids by two different men in a very short period of time". So today, I decided to pony up, and admit my girls were adopted, and not in the same position as the other kids.  My girls come from disadvantage.  Their children come from advantage.

So what?  I've done a lot to try to change the outcome for these girls, and in many ways, it's good that no one could tell my daughters were adopted.  It means I've done a damn good job of caring and bonding with them. I used to think this was all that was needed, to help break the cycle that these girls come from.  Lately I'm not so sure.

I'm not sure my girls will grow up and graduate high school, no matter what I do.  I think it's more likely they won't.

I'm not sure my girls won't be teenage moms.  I think it's likely they will.

I'm not sure my girls will not fall into addiction.  Again, I think its likely they will.  

Most parents put their kids into extracurricular activities because they want to raise these 'well rounded' kids.  For me, I just want a kid that is going to be able to live life as 'normally' as possible. I am just hoping my daughters will find something that will boost their self esteem enough to help them get through life in this cold, self centered society.  And for that reason alone, I put up with the mean moms.

Missing piece

As a social worker I am always looking at the 'bigger picture'. I notice what services various non profit agencies offer, observe how clients interact with the service, and think about the outcome of the service.  I don't know why, it's kind of a hobby.  Like my geek boyfriend is really interested in music and the radio industry....

Anyways, the past 5 years have been a serious eye opener for me.  I left the 'field' of social work for medical reasons, but also during that time was able to become a parent at the same time.  We all know the girls are special needs.

I've been a very good advocate for my girls. My goal has always been to give them a great headstart in order to counter affect some of the effects of the prenatal exposure they had.  I've had them followed by professionals since birth, I've taken workshops, I've joined online communities for parent support, I've attended parent support groups in town.

What is missing for our kids?  Yes, special needs kids, whatever their disability is, need help. They might need physio,  OT, counselling, medications, 1:1 workers, etc.  Yes, our kids might have labels of autism, FASD, ADHD, ODD, Conduct, depression, or anxiety.

But what does that mean for the parent?

For me, it means I am always having to supervise my girls when they are home.  150%.  Never can I say "go play in your bedroom" and be relaxed.  I have to always be alert.  If something is too quiet, something bad is up.  Yes, normal kids do this, but 'our' kids do it 20 times worse.

For me it means humiliation when  my daughter cries, screams, kicks and yells at me when I pick her up from daycare.  And the daycare workers stare and state 'well she had a wonderful day HERE", as though you have such a bad home life.

For me it means keeping the child locks turned to on in the car because you never know when she is going to explode and possibly open the door as you drive.

For me it is feeling helpless when my daughter is raging, throwing things around, with glazed eyes.  How can I stop it?  I can I keep my OWN emotions under control?  What about the little sister and her needs when there's a 45 minute rage going on?

No professional talks about that.  No professional gives you practical help.  They might say "ok make sure your kid has dark curtains in her room so she can sleep better".  Do they come help put those curtains up because you are exhausted from your day to day life with your kids?  No. They want you to do visual scheduling....do they offer to make them up for you?  No.

Instead, as I was told last week, they say things like "well this is what it takes to parent a high needs child''.  Or as my key worker said "you seemed to exhausted and depressed for me to be able to work with you and the girls".

And when I hear of parents being told of the diagnosis' of their children, I always think of the grief for the PARENT involved in the diagnosis process.  There should be counselling offered for the PARENT when your child is diagnosed with a disability condition.  There never is and the 'supports' involved focus on helping the child only.

Just a rant. Maybe time for me to explore a new career path.

in laws

I was married for 5 years and never met my in laws. They sent a few gifts from Pakistan, and I once talked to my father in law on the phone, but that was it.

Then, after the divorce I managed to date more immigrants who also did not have family in Canada and never had to meet any parents.

I didn't miss it.

Now after five months with Steve I had to meet his mother and her boyfriend. Wow, what an undue stress that is!  It's like applying for a job - put your best foot forward so the mother likes you!

Really, all the parents should do is make sure their son/daughter is happy and are being treated well. Maybe not even that much - we are supposed to be adults and make our own choices. I don't know if i will ever like anyone my daughters bring home, I can openly admit that.

Lucky for me, I seem to have a niche for talking to seniors. Steve's mom was quite shy but her partner was not, so he and I did quite a lot of chatting about old people stuff.  I definitely won him over, I knew that in minutes.

And so the verdict came in tonight from Steve's mom. She likes me, and thinks I will be good to him and treat him well. That's all a mother ever wants I guess.  Someone to be good to her boy. I knew, as a mother myself, she was very observant of how I treated him and I wondered if that would be me in 30 years evaluating the partners my daughters have chosen.  It seems almost primal to me, almost instinctual.  It was a mini awakening for me, and I am grateful for the experience.

hear me roar.

I want my child to be offered the service and help that she desperately needs.  She is not coping at an age appropriate level, she is not emotionally 'well'.  I have been with her since she was 2 hours old, and she has never experienced trauma (minus the prenatal stuff) or abuse.

I finally got her in to see a child psychiatrist for her moods, and impulsiveness.  I KNOW there's more to her than just prenatal exposure, and perhaps ADHD.  It was a hard fight, but I advocated and got my young girl in to see a very busy child psychiatrist.

NO I do not want my child to have a psychiatric illness.  I'm really hoping she doesn't, but I know how she behaves and how she cries, that there is something else there.  If my child can FEEL better, I'm going to try to help her. The way she cries when "low" is so painful to hear. It is as though her parent has died.  It breaks my heart everytime she cries like that....not a normal cry.... a painful, deep seeded, empty, desperate cry.

After explaining all Sedona's symptoms to the psychiatrist, he implies all her issues are related to her prenatal exposure.  No way; 100% not the case in my opinion.  It's not normal, even for prenatally exposed kids, to have this many rages, this many tears, this much aggression.  and then to be laughing your head off 30 seconds later.  I've parented my kids with the expectation that they are full blown FASD (just found out they are not), but even so, NONE of the fasd literature says anything about mood swings this severe. 

So then the psychiatrist starts to tell me about how I just wasn't parenting her right. I needed to provide more structure, more activities for her to do, keep her busy.  What....the.....heck?????????????????

Activities?  Seriously, lets think about this.  My girls have every toy known to man and they have good toys because their grandmother is a play therapist and knows what to buy.  They have bikes, scooters, a sandbox, a pool, a mini tramp, a wagon, TWO playgrounds (one in front and one in back), access to a trampoline/outdoor pool at grandparents, are in gymnastics, daycare, YOGA, will be taking dancing soon.  This is just the stuff from home, and doesn't include the playground trips, trips to wildlife parks, trips to vancouver, camping etc.

Getting my child a label only has ONE benefit.  She MIGHT be able to get some help to control her emotions a bit better which will in turn help her development expand.  It will help me understand her better, and it will help her have a better quality of life.

Don't dare come after this very protective mama bear and tell her she just needs to parent better.  No flipping way.  I'm dedicated, intelligent, strong and know how to advocate.  I'm a great parent and I have great girls.  

an ugly skeleton....

I haven't written much about my own issues, partly because it's easier to write about other's issues :).  I am also in a bit of denial about things, which has allowed me to live a fairly stable life these past few years, although I am certainly aware that I do have issues.

These issues I am referring to are in relation to being hit by a car when crossing the road in 2006. I've talked about it briefly before.  I don't like to focus too much on the accident, and my troubles because I believe in some ways that gives it more power, and at this point in my life, that accident has a lot of power over me. Unsettled lawsuits, mediation, court dates, 'independent medical exams' - there is a wealth of professionals out there who know more about me than I know about me.  I'm really pissed off about that to be honest.  The guy who hit me doesn't have to go through this, but I do, despite clear evidence I have problems as a result of the accident.

Anyways, as of late, I'm beginning to realize how my PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) from the accident is affecting me.  For years, I walked around in a constant state of adrenaline because I was unaware I even had the condition, and even after diagnosis, no one treated me.  I had no idea how important it was to get treatment or really even understood the condition.  Even being a social worker, and having thought I knew what PTSD was, I still had the assumption it was only about having 'flashbacks' or 'disassociating'.  Nope, not the case I've come to find out.

About a year ago I began to realize the impact PTSD was having on my daily life. I was irritable, snapping at people (VERY unlike me), constantly anxious, jumpy, depressed, unable to sleep, kept people at a distance. I got treatment from both the doctor (yes there is medication for PTSD) and therapy from a good psychologist.  I made a ton of progress and how it affected my daily life was lessened.

But as with all skeletons in your closet, they come out to haunt you when you least expect it.   I've been too naive.  I never thought it would affect my relationship with my new partner, but it is.  Since the accident I've not been in a serious relationship with a man - I've dated a lot, but focused my energy on raising my daughters.  I've never had to juggle raising my daughters, dealing with my own issues, having a romantic relationship, and having PTSD.

I find how the PTSD rears its ugly head is not in terms of me distancing myself from him or anything like you would expect from someone with the disorder.  It comes out in a way that I feel really insecure about the relationship, and get almost needy.  That's really hard for me to admit because I like to consider myself independent and not in need of a man.  I've been through a lot (even prior to the accident) and have made a life for myself without the help of any man. I've adopted and raised two little girls all by myself.  Those are pretty big things, that require a confident person.  So why, when I am stressed or worried about something completely different, do I think that Steve is about to jump ship on me?

It is a completely irrational fear and I know it, but at those times I don't FEEL it. Steve is very compassionate, understanding, intelligent and patient.  He absolutely adores me, and has said I am the person he has been waiting for his entire life.  When he says that, I believe him and I believe he says it with all his being.

So yesterday, when feeling highly stressed and anxious about a completely different issue, I started to get all needy on him.  I didn't even realize I was being needy, or able to say "i need extra attention from you right now".  I was just kinda being a bitch in a way. Then some unknown force made me say "this feels unsafe for me".  This, being the relationship, was feeling unsafe.  Steve didn't do anything to make it that way, and we have been having a wonderful time lately. Then with more talking, the unknown force, made me realize what was really going on.  All this insecurity was coming from the PTSD and the fact I had not dealt with the stress/anxiety of the day in an appropriate manner.

I believe the 'unknown force' was my spirit guide Catherine.  If you believe at all in spirit guides, I can tell you she is an elderly woman, with long grey hair who has a very gentle but persistent personality.  She's kind of like a grandmother who nags me in a nice way. I've been meditating a lot lately and communicating with her and when I have these realizations where I don't even know where they come from, they are usually from her. So thank you Catherine. And, the reason I write this is because I think the more open you can be about things that bother you, and put it out into the universe, the easier it is to deal with our human reality. Namaste.

Why can't this lovely, cute, adorable 3.5 yr old HAVE A SHOWER????  Why can't she even come look at the shower while it's running and see that it is not some monster that is going to eat her soul??  Why does everything have to be so dramatic with her?

These are my thoughts about 45 minutes ago. Dove is 'odd'. That's the only way to describe her.

I woke up early to a beautiful blue sky, thinking about how the girls could play outside for a bit this morning while I put together my new bench for the entrance way.  Then later on, it is my mom's birthday, so I had plans to get the girls dressed in their new dresses to go for Grandma's birthday dinner.  I had lovely visions for the day.  Yet, for this day to happen, the girls needed to get clean as they were both dusty and dirty from daycare.

Now, my lovely girls have this irrational fear of the shower. They want baths, and I'm not sure why.  I NEED them to learn to be able to take showers for my own sanity.  Sometimes you need to just be able to throw them in the shower, wash them down, and that's it.  Both girls are special needs, and I've assumed all this time that it's probably a sensory issue; that perhaps the shower hurts their skin too much, or they just don't like the sound.  I'm also a firm believer that if something is interfering with your day to day life, you need to face it head on.

So, my mission today was to give a quick shower so we could get on with our day.  I brought Sedona in the shower with me and she realized it was not so bad.  I then asked Dove to do the same.  You would swear I was asking her to jump into a black pit filled with poisonous snakes.  She wouldn't even approach the shower to LOOK at it. Screaming, yelling, crying. If I didn't have a decent relationship with my neighbors, I'm sure they would have phoned the police.  By the way, I have told the neighbors my girls are adopted and have some special needs, and I believe the neighbors understand that they get crazy sometimes.

I eventually forced Dove to get in the shower.  Maybe I'm a mean mom.  Or maybe you could view it as a mom trying to help her child overcome barrier in her life.  Regardless, she stopped crying once she was in, and saw that she wasn't going to die.

I don't know what exactly is up with Dove but she does strange things. I believe she is on the autism spectrum, however, it is likely she won't get a diagnosis.  Girls tend to either NEVER be diagnosed with autism, or don't get diagnosed until much later.  My sister wasn't diagnosed autistic until she was 13 despite being taken to almost every professional in BC.

Dove doesn't know how to play with toys unless directed, doesn't understand how to properly interact with peers (mostly Sedona bosses her around), has a few strange obsessions and irrational fears. There's lots of things that are just odd or off with her.

Yes she has LOTS of positive qualities.  I'm just struggling to see them this morning.  And I vowed to make this blog as real as possible, so there you have it.  I DON'T always 'like' my kids.  And that's is OK, as I still have unconditional love for them.

thank you universe.

I woke up in a foul mood this morning. I'm not sure why. I felt I had enough rest, I was looking forward to the day and we had a fairly good weekend.  Yet, I struggled all day with irritability and a mundane look on life.

My boyfriend and I took the girls to the park to ride bikes.  The girls wanted to go and see the little hobby farm that is nearby, and I just couldn't fathom going to see the goats with the demonic looking eyes, or the miniature horse that looks so desperate to escape from his trapped existence.  So, I asked my partner to walk them over while I rested on the grass. I thought that perhaps reconnecting with Mother Earth would help me feel better.  It helped a bit, but not as much as I hoped.

So later in the day, I silently connected with my spirit guides.  I asked for help grounding me and helping me re connect to my spirituality which has been really lacking lately.  As soon as I did this I felt an unexplained warmth.  My mood lightened a little and I felt a bit better.  I did ask my spirit guides to help me understand what was blocking me in my life, as I felt there was something seriously blocking me.  Of course no one is perfect, but I knew there was something I just was not 'grasping' but I needed to work on.  Sometimes when I ask my guides something, the answer will either pop right into my head, or I will 'feel' something, like an intuition.  At this point nothing happened.

I get through the rest of the evening. I survive and am beginning to look forward to the new week ahead.  At 9:45 pm, I get a phone call from someone I didn't expect and whom I had not talked to in over 6 months. This call was from my ex husband, whom I have been divorced from for about 8 years now.

Now, this man is very self centered and usually only calls me when he is in need of my advice on something concerning himself.  In some odd way, he trusts my judgement and experiences.  However, the last time I spoke to him, I made it very clear I was not putting up with his drama any longer.  It seemed things were over.

So when I answered the phone, after getting over my initial shock of who was on the other end, I knew something serious was up with him.  His voice was shaking and he was very frightened.  He has been having some health issues and feels very scared.  Now this is where it gets interesting.  This is the man who asked me for a divorce when I was in St. Paul's Hospital having 2 major surgeries.  The first surgery failed, I was in and out of ICU, and I was in the hospital waiting for a second attempt at the surgery.  THAT'S when he decided he would drop the divorce bomb on me.  His reason for wanting a divorce?  I was too sick and he was afraid I was going to die.  Gee, thanks.

Funny enough, now he is having the exact same health concerns I was having all those years back.  Karma? I feel kinda happy but guilty that I feel happy.  All those years after the divorce I internalized that pain, thinking that I would never love someone again, or be truly loved and accepted by a man.

So after a brief chat about the health stuff, and me reminding him it's karma for leaving me in hospital, he brings up his current wife.  I bring up my current boyfriend and how wonderful he is, and how no one has ever treated me so well. I also have the guts to say 'you treated me like shit all those years, and I wasted my time on you'.  My voice didn't quiver, I didn't cry, and I certainly did not regret it.  I feel good saying it.  I feel lighter, I feel free and I feel he is now in my past for good.

I do believe things happen for a reason.  I have been struggling in my current relationship based on stuff that happened with my ex husband, and although I know it's not fair to my new partner, it comes up. I am lucky to have someone in my life now who is patient, loving, understanding, accepting, gentle, and who adores me.   As flaky as this sounds, I believe my guides helped me through the block of my ex husband tonight, and followed through on my request for assistance.  Of course it all came from within me, but having the back up of a power such as a guide makes human life so much easier to deal with.  The universe is powerful and this is a good reminder to me to make time to reconnect more often.

On your 5th birthday...

Miss Sedona is turning 5 on april 10.  In order to honour her birthday on my blog, I've decided to do something a bit different.  I'm going to list as many tidbits of info about Ivy.  So here goes,

1. Sedona loves to swim.  I think she is part fish.
2. Sedona is very compassionate.
3. Sedona is also very loving.
4. Sedona loves gymnastics.  She is in gymnstart which will eventually lead her into competitive gymnastics. She trains 2 hours per week.
5. Sedona is a very good big sister to Dove. She is protective and nurturing (with a bit of big sister attitude thrown in for good measure).
6. S ADORES her Auntie Christine who just turned 10 yrs old. She tries to do everything like Christine.
7. S also adores aunties Jasmine, Jolene, Desiree & Trina.  She, at times, loves her uncle Bryson as well.
8. S adores her cousin Anthina who is 1 yr old.  She has always been very good with Anthina.
9. Grandma & Grandpa are a huge part of her life and she loves being at their house more than our own house.
10. S LOVES to eat pizza.  It is not hard for her to eat 5 pieces in a sitting, often outdoing the adults around her.
11. Sedona LOVES CHOCOLATE.  ANY KIND.  ANY TIME. AS MUCH AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE.
12. S loves to dance.  We have just discovered the dancing games for the WII and she is amazing at following the moves.
13. S loves music, singing, and picks up the songs she hears in the car often with only listening to them once or twice.  She has two favorites right now: "i love you like a love song' by Selena Gomez & 'Forget You' by Cee-Lo Green.
14. Sedona is a diva in training. enough said.
15. Sedona prefers to wear dresses or skirts. It's very difficult to get her into pants.
16. To wear high heels at all times would be Sedona's preference.
17. Sedona's current favorite tv show is Curious George.  She often shows me (so far only me) how Curious George walks like a monkey.
18.  The best place in town, in S's opinion, is McDonalds.
19.  Sedona loves nature.  She is grounded and calmed by nature & does her best when she is able to be outside all day long.
20. Sedona is an amazing artist. She has a talent for drawing and a great imagination.

Loss of self

Lately I have been forced to acknowledge some of my own personal deficits and it's not easy.  I cannot get into many details because I have an ongoing legal case which is not settled, however, I will say that these problems have originated from being hit by a car as a pediastrian in 2006, and then re-injured when rear ended six months later.

I have problems with memory (both short & long term), concentration, fatigue, chronic pain and some language/speech problems.  I have been told I won't be able to return to work as a child protection worker ever.  I've known this for a few years now, but it hit home last week when I was sent for a vocational assessment to see what sort of career I can do, if any.

At the end of the day, I was beyond exhausted. I couldn't imagine working a full day, much less a job where you actually had to use your mental/emotional faculties.  At this point I actually REALIZED that I will not be able to return to the career I had previously; the career I worked so hard to obtain.  I'm not sure if or when I will ever work again.

I worked very hard to become a child protection social worker.  My undergrad degree took 7 years to complete because I worked full time, was very chronically ill with ulcerative colitis and had some major setbacks.  However, I always have prided myself that I made it through that period and secured a good job and a job that I was really looking forward to advancing in.  My goal was to become a team leader for the ministry of children and family development, then possibly move over to an Aboriginal agency.  I had supportive team leaders that were willing to help me obtain my goal.  Although the job was stressful, I had no intention of leaving.

I've been off work pretty much since my first accident.  There were many attempts to get me back to work, but none of them ever panned out.  For many years, I felt worthless and this contributed to major depression.  It's not easy to be at home, not working, living off of 'long term disability benefits'.  Yet, I had came to accept that to some extent. I was beginning to wonder if maybe I could try another area of social work and or possibly get higher education.

The vocational assessment hit me hard because it made me realize how difficult it will be for me to get back to work or even re training.  I do not know the results of the assessment, however, somehow I know it's going to be depressing.

I am now a different person than I was prior to the accident, it's hard to admit.  I have lost that person I used to be, and have no idea how long it will take to get back to that level I was at previously.  I may not ever, and that scares me a lot.