Transplanted again!

Well, we’ve driven our wagon train east again, from Utah to Colorado, and settled south of the Denver metro area. Centennial seems just a stones throw from Ogden, and yet worlds apart. I didn’t realize how unhappy I had been in Utah until I got out of that dreaded state. It’s such a huge relief to be back in a state where people have bumperstickers on their cars! Where people express opinions that are not the mainstream! Where people question authority and truly believe in and practice religious freedom! Where the term “ward” refers to a geographical voting region! WOO followed by HOO!!

Alas, Colorado being the leanest state in the nation, my DH and I are probably some of the fatter people in this glorious state (but, but we’re average size in Missouri!). Apparently, Coloradans actually take advantage of the many opportunities for biking and hiking and other outdoor recreation offered in this breathtaking state. There are also indoor Recreation Centers everywhere, I mean everywhere, and there is a really nice one right down the road which we plan to take advantage of this  for a few months Winter when it is too cold to go for bike rides and walks with the kiddoes.

Speaking of the kiddoes, my firstborn son who came into this world via an incision in my abdomen, will be FOUR in nine days. I have no idea-o how in the heck this has happened. His much-anticipated Pirate Party is in less than a week and he has invited four people, only one of whom is a child! So, I’m feeling like it is time for the annual purge-a-thon where I rant and vent all of my issues about how he was plucked too soon from my womb by an ignorant Obstetrician, and I know all too well that it is best to get this stuff out before the festivities! Better to get it out here than when I’m cutting the cake.

Issue 1: I am only just now coming to terms with the fact that I was depressed during my pregnancy, and definitely following the “emergency” (emergent) Cesarean (although I was not encouraged to express my feelings until about 5.5 to 6 months postpartum when I met a fiesty woman who was going by the name of “Ahleemah” on the YAHOO! EC list).

Issue 2: I am REALLY MAD now that I was not allowed to be even a little bit mad then.

Issue 3: I am really, really dissappointed that no one seemed to care how *I* was feeling.

Issue 4: I am so so so so sad for my sweet son who had a sad mother for about a year.

Issue 5: I am upset that no one saw my pain or bothered to ask how *I* was doing.

Issue 6: I shouldn’t have had to start my own support group for my HBAC/VBAC (but I am also glad that I did as the St. Louis ICAN chapter has grown into a really great group that even does Blessingways for all the expectant mommas!).

Issue 7: I am wistful that I didn’t have time to heal more from my Cesarean before getting pregnant again just 13 months later. I still long for more time with only my firstborn.

Issue 8: I feel guilty and horribly regretful for allowing our son to be circumcised, adding injury to injury, merely so that he would have a penis that looked like his father’s penis.

Issue 9: I feel awful, horrible and terrible for allowing my own husband to give our son formula in the hospital. And I feel especially sick and twisted for taking a picture of it.

Issue 10: I feel like a complete idiot for allowing the OB who cut me for no good reason to also give me Depo-Provera for no good reason at my six week follow-up appointment. It wreaked havoc on me emotionally and physically and I discontinued it, but I agreed to it without first researching it myself. I attribute it to the Survivor syndrome, whatever it is called, where a victim begins to identify with the abductor/attacker as a way of coping with the overwhelming abuse.

That’s all I have the time for now, my sweet child is awake and I want to give him all of my attention.

Thanks for listening…