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Call For Inclusion, National Novel Writing Month

I haven’t written in awhile, it seems, as the past few days have been busy for me, mainly in my personal life. As you read this blog, you will probably begin to get an idea as to why. So, i have been told that next month, November, is National Novel Writing Month. I have been throwing around the idea of doing it, since I do tend to write quite a bit. I am thinking I will start a completely different blog (including new account) to do it, though.

I currently have three completely different plots/ideas bouncing around in my head right now to choose from. There is one that is pretty much topping the rest, but if I choose this one, I would like some input.

I would like for any of you out there who are reading this to send me your marriage stories…stories about your marriage. Please change the names, especially if you feel the need to to protect the identity of those mentioned, and you are at liberty to change the details, too, especially if your story has strongly identifying details. Heck, you can change and/or makeup the whole story if you would like, but I would just like your stories.  You can include any part of the story leading up to the proposal, why you said yes, some of the things that contributed to you saying yes, and the story of the actual proposal itself.   If I choose yours and I end up publishing this thing, and money is made off of it, I will of course provide you with your share. I’m not looking to make any money off of this, and probably won’t. Quite honestly, if I get any benefit out of this, it will simply be the benefit of me being able to make a decision in my personal life that I am struggling with right now.

If you would like to help me out here, you can just leave a comment here, or you can email it to me.  Thanks!


The (Almost) Completely Drug-Free, But Not Pain-Free Birth of My Daughter

I woke up that Sunday morning at 7:30 a.m., wondering why I was waking up at that time on a Sunday morning.  I got up and turned on the DVD player.  I had been re-watching X-Men the night before, and I had been too sleepy to finish it, turning it off with about an hour left in the movie.  So, I finished watching X-Men again, and got up to turn off the DVD player.  I hit the button to stop it, and then the power button to turn it off.  When I turned around and headed back to the futon/bed/couch I had been lounging on to watch the movie, that’s when it happened…at pretty much exactly 8:30 (the time will be significant later on) that morning (I remember looking at the clock), my water broke.

I had been told that you wouldn’t necessarily have one of those movie experiences where it looked like the bottom of a bucket of water fell out.  I had been told that some women just trickled for days, and that some, in fact, never had their water break.  Some women are lucky enough to deliver the baby, water and placenta intact and all.  I say lucky, because that is what is most healthy for the baby…for the baby to have that nutritious environment of water surrounding them all the way up until they are born and enter the earth.  This is what I wanted for my baby, because it is what is best for the baby.  But that’s just not how it happened for me.  The way my water broke, it was, very much, like it was in a movie…I had a very similar experience to that.  Now, I won’t say that it was gushing necessarily, per se, but there was quite a bit of water falling to the floor.  And other stuff, which is natural for the whole “water breaking” thing, but I won’t go into too much detail about that so as not to gross anyone out too much.  But there definitely was not any trickling, and unfortunately, I did not have any water left by the time my baby was delivered.

As soon as my water broke, I got into my car and rode to the Woman’s Birth and Wellness Center, which is where I had planned to have my baby.  From the time I knew I was going to have a baby on, I had decided I wanted to do an all-natural birth…no drugs were going to be involved.  I found out about this Woman’s Birth and Wellness Center through some classes I was taking, and from that point on, I was determined to have my baby there.  When I got there, they told me to go home — I was only at one centimeter, relax, and take a shower, because it could be a long time before I had my baby, and might end up being a long night.  Night?  It was 9:30 in the morning (at least…by that time.  I lived about an hour from the center).  So I got back in the car and rode all the way back home the hour.  At home, I busied myself with packing my stuff for the Center (I packed enough stuff that you would’ve thought I was moving in — a lot of people pack less for a whole week’s trip somewhere).  But I wanted to be prepared and I also wanted to be surrounded by the comforts of home when I gave birth.  To give you an idea of the excessive amount of stuff I packed, I had my laptop packed (of course), I had this picture which had a light behind it (one of those light-motion pictures) and emitted comforting sounds (the sounds of the ocean), I had five CD’s with relaxation sounds on them.  Those sounds I had also put on the laptop (this was one of the most important part of all of the things I took…these sounds).  I had a CD player, just in case.  I had an ipod also with the sounds loaded on it, of course.  I had a pillow which plugged into either the laptop, the CD Player, or the Ipod and emitted these sounds.  I had clothes and a blanket for the baby, of course.  I remembered the car seat this time, of course (I had forgotten it the first time, but this time I remembered it).  I remember having some other stuff including towels, a change of clothes, snacks, etc., but I don’t remember much else of what I had, I just remember that it was a lot.  It was also completely not logical, having all of this stuff, but don’t try to reason with a pregnant woman who is about to have her baby!

After being sure to pack all of my stuff, I took a shower and made some of what they call “laborade”.  Now…Laborade is something similar to gatorade, but it is all-natural and has no sugar.  I was determined that I was going to drink this stuff and like it, and I was determined to do everything “right”, by not drinking or eating anything else, and especially not anything that had that “bad” stuff in it.  I ended up throwing out this Laborade and not drinking it because it was NASTY and I simply couldn’t stomach it.

I headed back the hour to the Woman’s Birth and Wellness Center.  It was about lunchtime by that time…a later lunch, like 2 or so.  So it has been 5 hours since my water broke, and I had started having contractions, or at least sensations, but at that time, I still had no idea what true labor contractions were like.  Someone had told me they were like menstrual cramps, but since I don’t (usually) get menstrual cramps, I had really no point of reference, whatsoever.  I was in the early stages of labor, which I would find out later, was really absolutely nothing compared to the later stages.  At that point, I was still thinking…I can do this.  This isn’t so bad.  I was still excited, and still looking forward to it, and still thinking…”maybe this labor thing isn’t so bad afterall”.

When I got back to the Center, they told me I had only dialated another centimeter…I was only at two centimters by that time, so they still wouldn’t admit me or let me stay there.  I left some of my stuff there, picked out my room (which ended up being a nice carolina blue room) and left.

The Center I gave birth in was a set of apartment homes that had been re-made into this Woman’s Birth and Wellness Center.  I know in one of the apartments, Yoga was taught, but I am pretty sure there was a part as well where people lived and were residential.  There were some other businesses, but I think the main one there was the Woman’s Birth and Wellness Center.

So, anyway, I left from the center and went to grab some lunch.  I tried to eat light.  I had been told it might be a good idea to eat light or not at all, because of what would be going on, but I was starving and needed my energy, and there was no way I would’ve been able to go without eating.  Honestly, I really expected to have my baby later that night.  Or maybe not so much later, but I really thought she would be coming that evening at some point.  I remember the place I ate at being Ham’s, because there was one there that was convenient, and they had some food there that sounded good to me and like something I would want to eat.

At one point I went back to the center, but I still was not ready to have the baby, nor had I dialated that much.  Now, sometimes, women who are pregnant have certain fears that may seem weird or odd to others.  I think it is something about the biochemical reactions going on in your body, and some of the hormones and other chemicals, but you do get weird ideas and/or have weird fears.  One of my greatest fears was either that the baby was just going to fall out of me and/or I was going to have her somewhere where I would have nothing but total strangers surrounding me, or completely by myself, or people around who were not necessarily strangers, but did not know what they were doing.  I wanted at least a midwife there.  One of my fears about having the baby somewhere other than the Center was that the baby wouldn’t get what she needed right off, and damage would be done to her.  So I didn’t want any of that happening.  So that was why I was going back to the Center and trying to get admitted so frequently.  I had no idea how hard I was going to actually have to push to get the baby out.

So, anyway, the Center told me then, again, that they would not admit me.  So I ended up going to a nearby hotel to wait it out, telling the people at the front desk that I probably would not be staying the whole night, but just needed a place to chill in the meantime.  After checking into the hotel, I went to eat again, supper, because I was starving.  I tried to eat really light at one of those trendy heatlhy places…I think I remember having a sandwich and fries that were supposed to be cooked light and healthier for you, but I could be remember that completely wrong.  After that, I got this sudden craving for icecream and satisfied that craving, having an icecream.  I felt bad about it, but it was one of those pregnant woman cravings that simply can’t be denied.  My mom called during that time, but I didn’t tell her I was experiencing somewhat passive labor, because of the way I had decided to have my baby, I didn’t need her stressing me out.  She is the type of person who surrounds herself with drama and anxiety, and I did not need that while having my baby.  Then I returned to the hotel.  During this time, I was chilling, listening to my relaxing music, and trying to nap/sleep.  There was a woman at the hotel who appeared to be a hooker/prostitute who was there with a man, but I guess that’s pretty irrelevant.  I walked around outside the hotel a little bit, and got my picture taken, kind of like some last minute pictures to commemorate the last moments of me being pregnant, and the moments before the baby was born.  One of the reasons for all of this walking (around the hotel and around town), was that I had been told that walking helps to progress the labor.  I wanted a 100% completely drug-free birth, and so I didn’t even want to be given the medications you are sometimes given when you are in a hospital to hurry the birth along.  The contractions started coming more often, and they were more painful.  I tried to stand it as long as I could, and I remember developing this sensation like I had to go to the bathroom (which I later learned was normal, and sometimes meant you were getting ready to give birth) often, and going to the bathroom, but not being able to pass anything.  I thought I was constipated, and was afraid I was going to have a bowel movement when I gave birth, which is what I am told happens to some women.

Anyway, it was about midnight, 12:00 a.m., when I thought the contractions were substantial and that I was FINALLY ready to have this baby!  I returned to the Center, and they finally accepted me and let me set up shop, but they didn’t really want to.  I was at that time, only at four centimeters.  So my labor was not progressing very quickly, to say the least.  At the Center, they had these huge garden tubs you could take a bath in and relax in, at least before giving birth, and so that some women who chose to could have a water birth.  I had decided early on, for several reasons, that I was going to have a water birth.  Anyway, I got in the tub a couple of times throughout the night.  I tried to sleep in between and through the conrtractions, but it was hard and they were very painful by that point.  It was so painful, I remember I couldn’t help but make noise as they were coming.  I had seen births in videos prior to this where the women made no sound and “breathed the baby out”, but it became apparent by this time that this was not a luxury I was going to have.  It was so painful, there was no way I could have prevented sounds from coming from my mouth, and it would probably have been even more painful had I tried.

It was at this point that, had I been at a hospital, I probably would’ve been agreeable to pain medications…even possibly, and epidural.  Even though I had decided not to…this was very painful.  I had previously considered myself to be very tolerant to pain, and had been through many painful things…some without really being affected too much by the pain, so I really had thought I could do this.  But this was definitely a different type of pain.  I even considered asking them to allow me to go to the hospital and abandon my plans for a medication-free birth, because I was  in so much pain, but I did not do that.  It was quite awhile after that, probably about the second time that I was in the tub, that they got me out of the tub and told me I was too relaxed, and my labor had started going backwards instead of progressing.  I had stopped having contractions…my body had somehow stopped the contractions, and I guess somewhat had shut down.  So they wanted me to get it started again.

Hours later, they checked me again, and I was at this time only at five centemeters.  Which is half of what you need to be at (they would ideally like you to be at ten centimeters when you give birth.  They’ll take nine or a little over nine up to ten, but they would like you to be at ten.)  They had me try to go outside and walk, but quite frankly, I couldn’t do it.  It was just too painful.  So they checked me again, and I had really made no progress.

So this is the part where I have to put an (almost) in front of “completely drugfree birthing”…because it was at this moment that they offered me 50 mg of morphine.  Even as much pain as I was in, I considered not taking it.  They highly recommended I take it,and said it woudn’t really kill the pain, but would relax my muscles.  they also said that if I didn’t give birth within 24 hours after my water had broken, I would have to be taken to the hospital and possibly have a medical procedure in order to give birth, and that was what I was trying to avoid.  They said that if I did not accept the morphine, this would probably happen (that I would have to go to the hospital).  So I accepted the morphine.  And sure enough, it did nothing for the pain, really.  And it had worn off, for sure, by the time I actually gave birth.  This was just so my muscles would relax enough to get me to the point to where I would be able to give birth naturally.

So, anyway, I slept on and off through the rest of the night in between and through the contractions (as much as I possibly could…I didn’t really sleep, nor did I get good quality sleep, but tried as much as possible).  I “woke up” at about 8:30 or so the next morning.  Of course, I was in extreme pain at this time, but it was contractions, coming and going and such.  Obviously I wanted to get this whole ordeal over with, and I was actually over that 24 hour mark.  But since I was close to giving birth, they didn’t mention me going to the hospital at that point.  I am sure if I weren’t as close as I were, they probably would’ve been more amenable to the idea.  They checked me again, and I was at around eight centimeters or so at that point.  They encouraged me to take a shower, and I agreed and did.  I got in the shower.  I told them I felt like I was constipated and needed to go to the bathroom really bad, and they told me that it was the baby I was feeling and that meant that I was getting ready to give birth.  Then, they showed me these deep lunge things you could do to help the labor along.  And boy, do I wish they had showed me that earlier, because I would’ve been doing those all night if I had known how well they worked and that they would get the ordeal over with faster.  Anyway, I got in the shower, and one of the midwives ran the water for the garden tub for the water birth.  I was doing the lunges and making the birthing noises, because it hurt, but I was just so determined to do this…to give birth to the baby.  I told her it hurt, and had her check, and she was giving me progress updates, said the lunging was working, and I was getting close (this was all taking place when I was in the shower).  And she said the harder and faster I did it, the more it would progress the labor on and allow me to have the baby.  So I remember bearing down and doing them really hard and fast, and then having her come and check in the middle of it.  And she said I was over nine centimeters…nine and some, and so that was fine, it was time to have the baby!  I never got to ten centimeters.

But I was thrilled.  Yay.  Time to have the baby.  Time to get this whole ordeal over with!  So, they ran the water for the tub.  I tried to continue doing the lunges, to help the baby along.  Was able to get in the tub and in the water.  When I got in the tub, they told me to push.  And I pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed.  And screamed.  And pushed some more.  The most incredible pain came to me.  I felt something emerge, and I really thought the whole head had come through.  And then they said that the baby was crowning.  Crowning?  After all that pushing and all that pain, and the baby was only crowning?  They could only see her head? 

So they told me to push some more, and to push harder, so I tried this.  I remember getting so warn out doing this, I would have to take breaks between the pushing.  I also remember thinking, this baby does not want to be born.  So I pushed, and pushed, and pushed, and pushed some more, and then, I felt like I was ripping into, and felt some more emerging, and again, the most incredible pain, ever.  And sucessfully, there was the baby’s head.  Finally!  I remember looking at the midwife, and saying, out loud.  “I can not do this.  I am just going to have to leave her there like she is”.  I am serious.  That I said this.  I’m not sure how serious I was about actually doing that, but I really did say that to the midwife.  I remember the midwife telling me that I was going to have to push and birth the baby the rest of the way out (it seemed like she was doing it in a panicky voice, and it was possible, of course, that she was looking at me like I was from outer space, but I don’t remember noticing that too much).  So I remembered bearing down and just really pushing as hard as I could.  I remember feeling that time, like I had really ripped into.  Had I been told that, I would have believed it, because that is what I felt like. 

And then, there was my baby!  And, of course, I pushed the rest of the birth stuff out, but that’s not really relevant.  The important part is…there was my baby!  They put my baby girl on my chest, right after they took her from me, straight from where she had been birthed, and put her right on my chest.  I remembered a particular line from “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas” whenever he heard the children singing that said “the Grinch’s small heart grew three sizes that day”, and at that moment, when I looked into the eyes of my baby girl, I physically felt like my heart grew ten times the size it had previously been.  I was filled with all of this love for another human being that I never thought I had, and I was completely overwhelmed by it…but it was a good thing.  I remember the very first thing I ever said to her was “Hey, Baby…don’t cry”, as I put my hand on her small back, while she lay atop me, because she was starting to cry a little bit.  I remember the midwives saying, “NO!!!  You want her to cry.  Crying’s good for her at this point…it clears out her lungs.”  So I remember looking at my new little baby girl and saying to her, “ok, you can cry now.”  And of course, she obeyed my orders and started crying.  and so began this wonderful relationship between me and my daughter where she respects and obeys what I say, and does what I tell her to do.  I am told they go through a stage where they stop doing that, but we haven’t reached that stage (thank goodness!)

I should stop here.  I would like to stop here.  But I just can’t.  There is just so much more to that day than that.  And I don’t want the whole thing just to be about the pain without the celebration of life!  So, after she was born, and she was laid on my chest, I looked at her.  And in between all of those things going one, me telling her to cry, the crying, etc., when she was first laid on my chest, she actually tried to hold her head up.  And succeeded!  She was very alert also, with her little eyes wide open.  I remember looking at her and thinking what a beautiful newborn baby she made.  I had not always thought newborns were beautiful.  I had previously thought that a lot of them were kind of wrinkly, and not all that beautiful, but I remember thinking she was beautiful.  But, she was very alert, and throughout the day would be holding her head up.  I had been told that it as often that when you give a baby a natural childbirth that they are alert.  So despite all of the pain, I was still glad I had done that, because she was alert, with her eyes wide open, and holding her head up on the first day.  The midwives were astounded, and commenting to each other about how she was holding her head up, and they were calling out to each other and getting each other to come and observe my baby holding her head up.  They said that was rare.  I had close to no experience with babies, so I didn’t know.  A year later, my sister gave birth to a baby, and the baby she didn’t have didn’t hold her head up the way my daughter did on her first day until three months after she was born.  So I guess it is rare, but I didn’t know that at the time.

I finally called my mom and said something to the effect of “your granddaughter is here.”  So she and my dad drove the three hours from where they lived to come see their new granddaughter.  After getting off the phone with my mom, the midwife decided she was going to teach and train my baby how to nurse.  But there was no need.  My baby’s mouth went straight to my nipple like a magnet, and she was sucking away in no time, like an old pro.  I remember being so tired by that time.  I was outright exhausted, and thought I was going to fall asleep holding the baby with her nursing, but I did my best to stay awake.  I kept thinking…any day now, she is going to stop,and we are all going to get to sleep, but she kept nursing away.  She nursed for something like twenty minutes, and me about to fall sleep through every minute of it.  She finally had her fill and quit nursing, and I told the midwife that I was just flat out exhausted and was going to fall out any minute.  So the midwife put the baby between two pillows beside me, and I laid on the other side of her and we both slept there soundly for at least a good thirty minutes to an hour.

When my mom got there, she couldn’t believe I had gotten up and was walking around the room the same day I had given birth, just like it was any other day.  They spent time with my daughter, their grandaughter, and all of the first-day things were done…her hearing was checked, she got whatever immunizations, etc., she needed for her first day, and then, six hours after I gave birth, I was discharged from the Woman’s Birth and Wellness Center.  I rode home with my new baby, and when I got home, I climbed up twenty stairs.

My baby daughter has never been in a hospital to this day, not even the day she was born.

What Turns You On?

I was going to write about the birth of my child today, but since I wrote yesterday about something that was pretty heavy, and the material for the day before yesterday was also pretty serious, I figured I would do something fun today (and something that kind of relates to yesterday’s post).

I was driving to work this morning, listening to a particular talk radio station, and they were posing to their listeners the question…what turns you on?  People would call in, saying that it was seeing their man doing laundary that turned them on, etc., and this experience of listening to the responses these people were calling in to say only emphasized even more how different I am from other people.

As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, I am a very passionate person.  I am passionate about a lot of things.  When I am in a relationship, yes, I like to be passionate with and about that person.  I don’t think that necessarily means I have to have sex with him, but I am passionate, nonetheless.

But getting turned on?  This is a different topic for me alltogether.  I am often turned on by inanimate objects.  Two examples I can think of right off the top of my head are water and heights.  By water, I mainly mean bodies of water, etc., not a glass of water sitting on my desk.  No, I will not be looking at a glass of water sitting on my desk for me to drink and get turned on by it.  But bodies of water just excite me endlessly, and it is the same way with heights.

I guess if a man took me to a great height, that might be the way that this would apply.  It would especially intrigue me if he had previously been scared of heights, because that is another thing that a man could do that would actually turn me on…something that he does for me, because he is interested in me, that is out of his comfort zone.  When everything is going great, and everybody’s happy, and everyone is in place and where they are supposed to be, it is easy for everybody to be comfortable and feel like everything is right and great and going really well.  But it is when you are out of your comfort zone that your true colors show.

And I am not talking about someone who is scared to death of heights.  I don’t think it would be attractive to me for someone to be clinging onto me for dear life, and risking knocking either me and/or himself from a great height because he is scared to death.  I’m just talking about if they may be a little bit afraid of it.

Another thing about men in particular that I have found turns me on, is when a man is a good father.  I remember in my youth never really being that attracted to Brad Pitt.  I am sure he is handsome and that lots of women find him to be HOT, but he never really did anything for me…until this point in my life when I recognize the aphrodisiac that is men being a good father and he actually became a father.  When I see pictures of him and his kids, it makes me melt, just like when I see any man with his kids being a good father to those kids.  I don’t know what it is, but is a very attractive thing when a man is a good father to his kids.  I respect the relationships that those men have with the women who are the mothers of those kids, but it is most definitely a turn on, to say the least.  🙂

Why I’m Choosing Purity

I haven’t been perfect in my lifetime.  In fact, there have been times when I have been far from it.  But now that I have a daughter, I am so determined, more than anything, to try my best not to make mistakes…to be as perfect as I can possibly be for her.  It’s so important that I show her the way the world works, and the right things to do.  If I was going to be engaging in acts that were wrong on a regular basis, it would be very hypocritical of me to tell her that she needed to do certain things and act a certain way, and I refuse to be hypocrital.  That’s one of the things that is most important to me as a parent — that I provide a good example for my daughter to follow.  I know that I have made mistakes, and that those mistakes have brought me to this point in life.  And I know one day, it is going to be extremely difficult to explain to her why she was born out of wedlock and why she needs to abstain from such activity when her mother obviously did not.  That’s going to be tough.  But life is full of tough conversations like that, and it will be essential that I talk to her about it the right way.  That’s a conversation I’ll be preparing for from the time she was born until it is time to have that actual conversation.

But I know if I wait and if I maintain purity from the time she is born on, that will be much easier to explain than if I were to go engaging in immoral behavior despite the consequences.  One of the most important things I want to teach her is that actions do have consequences, and that you do have to weigh those consequences when you are deciding what action to take.  So no matter what temptations come my way, I am determined to do the right thing…for her if for no other reason.  It’s not at all that I haven’t been attracted to anyone since she has been born…in fact, I have very much so been.  And it would have been so easy to give in to that attraction and to that passion, but no matter how much I want something, and no matter how much passion I have for somebody or how attracted I am to them, nothing even comes close to the love I feel for my daughter, and it is that love that is enough to keep me from doing anything that I know could hurt her. 

I have not had sex since she was born, and I am determined to keep it that way until I am married.  I know that this may in fact keep me from getting married, because there are plenty of guys who won’t even give a girl a chance if she has made this type of commitment.  But I am determined to do this, nevertheless, because I love my daughter so much, and it is so important to me that I be a good role model for her and a good example.  Being a good mother is so much more important to me than being a good lover or being a good girlfriend or whatever.  And if I end up spending the rest of my life alone (other than having my daugther), in terms of not having someone of the opposite sex, it will be so worth it to me, because being a good mother is just so much more important to me than that.  I would happily sacrifice any chance at having a relationship with someone of the opposite sex if it means I will have an awesome relationship with my daughter and be able to be a good mother to her.  She is the most important thing in my life.

Right after she was first born, this was very easy for me, because quite frankly, I did not have any desire to do anything, whatsoever.  Childbirth was very painful for me, and it was a long time that I could not even think of doing anything like that, because the memory of the pain was just always there.  But in spite of this, and in spite of my desire to stay pure, I am a human being, and I do have the normal drives that other human beings have.  And I happen to be a very, very passionate person.  When I am in a relationship, I love being passionate with the person I am with.  So it is a very difficult thing for me.  But it’s something that is so worth it in the end.

One of the toughest things about being a single mom and dating as a single mom, especially when you have made the choice to be pure as I have, is that most of the men expect you to be the kind of woman who does that kind of thing.  It’s their view that you have already done it before, so why shouldn’t you keep doing it?  They also feel like you are slighting them if you don’t have sex with them because you have had it before, so it is like an insult to them.  But it’s really not.  And just because you’ve done that before doesn’t mean you have to keep doing it.  But most men just don’t understand that concept.

So that is my choice.  It’s what I’ve decided to do.

My Daycare Nightmare

When I first found out I was going to be having a baby, I was so excited!  And so determined to keep my child OUT of daycare, no matter the cost.  I was going to be a stay-at-home mom!  I could barely contain my excitement at the prospect.  It was as I had always wanted.

Not long after I became a mom, I begin to realize how little preparation had gone into making me financially secure enough to be a stay-at-home mom.  I also began agonizing over the life I was providing…or maybe I should say not providing for my little one.  I wanted her to be able to experience the world in ways I never had.  I wanted to be able to provide everything for her that she could ever want.  However, I couldn’t really do that without working and making the money that it would require.

When I first started working again, I went back to work as a part-time professor at a local community college.  Because of the hours, I was able to simply hire some at-home care to come and watch my child during the very few hours I was at work, and be home with her the rest of the time.  That was what I thought was ideal…privatized, at-home care.  However, I unfortunately very quickly realized how difficult it was to find good childcare with people who were willing to watch your child while you were at work, either at your home or theirs.  It was not for lack of me trying!  And I realize that at-home care is much, much more expensive than daycare, but I was willing to pay it!  I just couldn’t find anybody at all who was willing to do it, even with the amount of money I was willing to pay them.

After my stint as a professor, I ended up getting another job, which would require more full-time hours.  I realized that I would have to do that.  As I already mentioned, I would much, much rather have had privatized, at-home care, and I was willing to pay for it, but I could not find anybody I could depend on to do it. 

Going back to work, and agreeing to put my little one in daycare was one of the toughest decisions I have ever had to make.  I agonized over it day and night, and lost a very substantial amount of sleep over the decision.  I finally, after many, many, many hours of agonizing over the decision, and weighing all of the cons and all of the pros, made the decision to go back to work.  It was a very tough decision to make, but it was the one that I thought was best for me and my daughter.  I felt that it would be very selfish of me to stay at home and not be able to provide for her all of the things she deserved.

So, now it came time to actually choose a daycare.  The very first one I chose was very close to where I worked at the time.  One of the guys at my work recommended it, as he had enrolled his children there.  It was literally a couple of blocks from where I worked.  One of the benefits of having her there is that I could drop in on her at any time I wanted or needed.  I could go by and have lunch with her if I wanted to do that.  Also, if they called me from there and she was sick, and I needed to go and pick her up, I could get there very quickly.  I learned not too long after she started going there that it was better for me not to drop in there in the middle of the day for the most part, because she would get very upset when I did that and it was time for me to leave.

Another of the benefits of this particular daycare is that it had secured video on which you could watch your child throughout the day.  I loved that, and the fact that I could log in during the day and watch my child.  It was great being able to do that.  The biggest problem with this particular daycare was the other children.  They would bite and hit my child, and do other things, and she would be coming home with bite marks and other marks regularly.  It just kept on happening, and finally, I decided to move her.  It just didn’t seem like it was ever going to be resolved.

The next daycare she went to had teachers that didn’t like me very much.  They weren’t very friendly at all when I dropped her off.  This daycare also had a secured video system so that I could watch my child while at work.  The teachers at this daycare were very negligent.  One day, when I was watching my child on video at work, I saw the teacher of her class knock my daughter over with a table.  Another time, I saw another child bullying my daughter, and the teacher took a long time to get over there and take care of the problem.  At this particular daycare, they seemed to let the children run all over them and all over each other, and they really didn’t seem to have any control whatsoever over the children.

I then was offered a job that had a significant salary increase…and was a pretty long distance away from the daycare she was at.  So, thankfully, I was able to move her out of that daycare.  This time, I was determined to get it right.  I visited several daycares in the area beforehand.  There was one, in particular, that I liked.  It, like the others, had the secure video streaming.  The teachers were all so nice, and they were willing to work with my child’s special nutritional needs.  It was like a breath of fresh air.  When I walked into that daycare, it almost felt like I was walking into a very familiar territory…like I had known the people there for a very long time.

This daycare is so different from the other ones my daughter was at.  Some daycares have children who have families who don’t really want children.  They pawn their children off during the day to whatever daycare will take them, and are glad to get rid of them for that period of time, and then, when they get home with the children, they don’t parent them when they aren’t at daycare, either.  The daycare that my daugther is at, on the other hand, is filled with children who have parents who, just like me, would stay home if we financially could.  It has mostly children who have parents who love to be parents, and who love to have children, and who are parents outside of daycare to the children they love and that they love having.  The daycare my child is at now has children whose parents pretty much have to work, financially, and don’t really have a choice.  I am so glad I finally found a daycare like that, where my child could be with other children who had similar family situations.  Another awesome thing about the daycare my daughter is at is that she is learning so much, and developing so quickly there.  I am just amazed at all of the things that she gets to do and is able to do now that she is in daycare.  All in all, I am glad she is there, because she is happy and is really thriving there and doing so well.  I know that if she stayed at home with me, we would run out of things to do, and she would probably get bored, and wouldn’t get to do all of the fun things that she gets to do at daycare.  The daycare has people working there who are trained to be with children to help them develop.  I’m really not.  I am trained in the things that I do at my job.  Having a child is very new to me.  I am so glad to have some help, and to be able to provide these things for her, and hopefully a wonderful life filled with things that I never really got to experience.