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Scars for Love
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May 2nd, 2013

Judging by the eyes

I could feel someone looking at me as I sat and chatted with my grandmother and son at our favorite Thai restaurant.

This is somewhere Wonder Boy has gone to for years- and mixed in with the people at business lunches or simultaneously plugging into their laptops is a mix of ladies who lunch and occasional other kids.

We were talking about what he was doing on the iPad- something that often comes out at Mu just because it is a quieter restaurant and we can still engage with him as he plays a game- when I looked over and saw a much older boy with boredom and a little yearning on his face watching us.

Who I assumed was his mom was staring at her iPhone.

Now, in the blogging world its hard to state that you judge someone. There’s a lot of pressure to be benevolent of all because you don’t know the situation.

But this mom not only ignored her son before the food came- they barely spoke as they silently slurped their tom ka kai soup.

I felt so bad for him as we chatted and giggled away over my son ordering a ‘side of chopsticks’ and devouring most of his lunch, jabbering away about his little friends and my belly thumped along with every bite of curry I ate.

Eating out is always social in my family. The iPad or an iPhone often gets handed to my son, because he is three in a world of adults at a restaurant where often there is no kids menu.

The adults get some chatting done, and whomever is by him sometimes gets lulled into a game or smiles over his shoulder as he watches one of the retro Mickey Mouse cartoons I downloaded.

But he is never, never ignored.

He is still, often, the center of attention as questions are asked, interrupting his little game or someone joins in with a quick tea party where the host also eats all of the food.

I wondered as we left what the rest of the kid’s day was like- was he off from school for a reason? Did she work? Will they go home and go separate ways into entertainment and chores?

I hoped they’d have a good conversation. I hoped nothing was wrong. it’s hard when all you see is a few minutes of someone’s life.

Even as I still found fried rice later on in my son’s shirt I was glad for our times out- that even if it was just eating out and the iPad was involved my son still felt involved and loved.

Not bored and wanting.

 

April 30th, 2013

a second scar to heal the first

I spent the whole month of April living cesarean awareness month and not talking about it.

The lack of writing I’ve done lately on my blog is in direct correlation with the crazy my life can take coupled with a need to pay attention to my son while he is still the only one here.

April is cesarean awareness month- something I feel gets overrun by other subjects but, yet, one in three births is by casarean here in the US.

As was several of Wonder Boy’s friend’s births.

I’ve written about my cesarean here several times. I had a hard time coming to terms with mine and just when I felt confident in my decision, months worth of thinking ‘ am I doing the right thing’ finally came out of me as my belly expanded beyond the comfort zone.

A couple weeks ago I sat with my husband and son in the doctor’s office, list rotating through my head over and aver as we went through the standard procedure.

When it was my turn to ask questions, I could barely ask my upcoming cesarean (a must for my local hospital and a choice made by Mr. Wonder and I) and started crying.

All of the months, the worries, the stress finally came to a point, even though up to the moment I opened my mouth, thought of it calmly.

Choosing a repeat cesarean was not an easy choice,  and on a regular basis I worry about if it is the right choice because of the pressure to VBAC and the unknowing if I could, maybe, do it this next time.

Through my tears I saw the doctor look at my husband for his reaction. He knew it was an emotional subject for me, he knew why I wanted to ask those questions and was there to support and hear the answers too.

Because I needed to be as prepared as possible.

Because I needed it to be different.

It’s hard to be prepared for any kind of birth- all of the booklearning, studying, talking and planning can be thrown out the window in an instant.

Having a planned cesarean is about the only way to be able to plan ahead- I’ve known my son’s intended birthday for months.

Recovering will not be easy since we now own a 2-story house- I will be taking over my son’s playroom because it’s the only room downstairs that can be made dark and quiet.

Good luck not stepping on Duplos at 3 am right? At least there’s a shower downstairs. And goodbye swimming in the pool all summer- something I have to shove a few more sessions in before the baby comes with Wonder Boy.

My back hurts less in the water anyway, but it is exhausting swimming with this massive belly.

Five weeks from now I will be holding my son, hopefully with happy bliss in my heart instead looking through the world through a cold mist of trauma.

The memories of Wonder Boy’s delivery and the nights in the hospital, not even close to sleep, staring out into the cold hospital room.

Staring at the thin red line and scared I would split open.

Falling apart a little more than I thought.

I will be healing two scars this time.

 

April 19th, 2013

Pissed at the TV news

I only watched five minutes of the news this morning.

All it took is a roundabout grasp on tying in the Boston bombing suspects with Al-Queda and I was done.

I have watched TV news struggle a lot the last few months.

With Newtown, journalists repeated little snatches of information, leaving a lot of backpedaling only minutes later and people crying out conspiracy theories to a coverup of the actual situation.

With Dorner here in California, news outlets were hours ahead of themselves saying he had been captured, when in fact only sighted, and then took conferences from police agencies who were not in charge of the scene to get information, spreading rumors even farther and then backing off as the real news came out. They even repeatedly showed footage of the shootout looped over and over with the ‘live’ tag on th side, making it seem like the bullets flew forever.

And today I turned off the television again after hearing a news broadcast grasp at a chance the Boston bombing could be Al-Queda related, opening the door again for hatred against any muslim by the angry and vengeful ones who will want to fight back.

I was first a journalist before I became a blogger. At first it was hard spilling my guts out to the world, wanting to share information, have backed up sources, and always respecting fellow journalists.

Now, when I hear something is going down, I don’t turn on my local news or CNN, which has also lost their credibility with me.

I turn to Twitter.

As a reporter I used to watch it with interest, knowing that just because Twitter said stuff first doesn’t mean  it’s correct.

Yesterday, I commented to someone who had an early article about how the first suspect was in custody saying I wouldn’t believe it until more news came out.

But to read it on Twitter, stated over and over by people following scanners and there nearby?

I am starting to believe social media gossip over the journalists.

Citizen journalists, as the public tends to be called when sharing information about a news event, are turning out to be better sources of information than the TV news.

Print is already ahead of the game, linking to tweets and live-blogging events, using detailed and concrete information in the actual print editions.

Television, however, is whipping their horse trying to catch up with the impossible strides of social media and is now losing credibility with every straw they grasp at and have to recant later. If they even do mention their error.

They interview anyone they can, turning information about a suspect into a gossip-fest based on neighbors, classmates and former coworkers.

People are being driven to social media now to find current information and it leaves a risk. People tweet out addresses, take pictures of officers, all in the names of sharing news events, getting the word out about what’s happening near them, and having a moment of fame.

Police are having to ask not to share information that could hinder operations, put officers at risk and endanger others.

I never considered paparazzi as a career option after college, even though it was still a good market at the time, because I couldn’t handle the reckless gathering of any information and letting it blow up for a few thousand dollars.

This is just what the television news is turning into – chasing down anything and letting it grow beyond control then finding out the real news, much later in the game. I applaud any news sources that stay conservative and wait for confirmation before releasing information, like my local agencies when Dorner was a 20-minute drive from my home.

And so, again, I will be leaving my news gathering to a few choice people on Facebook and the occasional search on twitter.

How do you gather information when a major news event is on? Which do you find most trustworthy?

 

April 15th, 2013

A party for the baby

A party for the baby!?! He exclaimed.

I knew then to be careful- Wonder Boy has been excited about a baby brother since he found out I was going to have one, so so long ago for him.

I had kept it a secret even when I had horrendous morning sickness and, now that his little bestie has just had HIS baby brother, my son was even more excited for his.

He loved to poke my belly and tell people that his mommy was having a baby, pride radiating from his face.

Sometimes he even talks about the baby in his belly waking up and feeling hungry- and I just smile and tickle him.

20130415-110644.jpg

Yes, a party for the baby.

People are excited to see him, just like they were excited for you.

They will bring presents to help us be ready for your brother, because babies can be a lot of work.

I pointed out every time we talked about the little shower that his baby brother would not be there.

I wish he was here today, Wonder Boy would say sadly.

I know buddy, 8 more weeks. It seems like a long time but it won’t be.

You still have all of preschool and next week we’re going to the beach and the zoo.

OH YAY!

April 4th, 2013

My bellybutton

Last pregnancy Wonder Boy shifted my belly button slightly to the side due to an anterior placenta and for years I have stared at its slightly askew stance on my abdomen.

Well, his legacy continues on with this pregnancy, with another anterior placenta off to the right, therefore, I feel ALL of my baby’s movements on the left hand side.

Every kick, every shove, every wobble is off to one side.

Since baby definitely has a preference for hanging out on side, my stomach, with 10 weeks to go, has become a little less rounded and a little more, well, oddly shaped.

Exhibit A: (and the only one you’ll get unless you see me in person and forcibly remove my shirt)

bellybutton

I am sitting as straight as I can for this picture.

It really is that off.

It affects the way I sit, I lay down, everything.

Luckily I don’t have an outie (I don’t remember having much of one before) to, um, point out the current situation, which I know will only get worse since the last two weeks have shown a drastic change.

Was anything lopsided during a pregnancy for you or a partner?