"Vito"

In school, US and World history were never something I was interested in knowing more about. That's not to say that I don't love my country or that I don't respect those that have fought in the past or those currently fighting. It's just that the details of war, who did what and when, never really kept my attention.

About three weeks ago, Andy Stanley preached a sermon on forgiveness. He recommended that we read "Unbroken," by Laura Hillenbrand (A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption). The WWII vet that the book is written about actually made a visit to Buckhead church. It was an honor. The book was described to us as an account of his experience in war (Army Air Forces), being a POW who was horrifically abused and tortured. It's his account of how he came to forgive the very men that hurt him. Now, those of you who know me well, will immediately recognize that it's not the story of war that caught my interest rather this man's experience of abuse. Once a social worker, always a social worker.

This week I dove into the book, eager to read of his experience and learn a thing or two about forgiveness in the meantime. This book is beyond anything I could have imagined and it's a page turner for sure. I have to force myself to put it down. My definition of a good book! What is shocking is that I've enjoyed reading the first-hand account of war, especially since this hero (Louis Zamperini) was heavily involved in the happenings surrounding Pearl Harbor. The book details some staggering facts that completely blew my mind. I want to share:
~In less than 2 hours over Pearl Harbor, Japan badly wounded the American Navy and killed more than 2400 people.
~In the AAF, there were 52,651 stateside aircraft accidents over the course of war, killing 14,903 personnel (Zamperini referred to the plane he began flying in as "The Flying Coffin").
~In WWII, 35,933 AAF planes were lost in combat and accidents.
~35,946 personnel died in nonbattle situations, the vast majority of them in accidental crashes.
~A report issued by the AAF surgeon general reported that between November 1, 1943 and May 25, 1945, 70% of men listed as killed in action died in operational aircraft accidents, not as a result of enemy action. The problem, in most cases, were the planes.
~WWII has been referred to "a war without funerals."

I'm not just rambling about this book for nothing. The bottom line is that this book has left me thinking about my deceased grandfather,Vito Rappa, who was a WWII Navy vet. This book continues to make me think about my grandfather and what he must have endured during war, on a ship at sea with bombers flying all around and an ocean filled with swarming sharks. Vito was an Italian charmer. He was handsome, proud of the US Navy, and loved his family. Vito had his issues too though. I am convinced that my grandfather suffered with PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) every day of his life after returning from war. Like many PTSD sufferers and war vets, Vito came to rely on alcohol, likely his way of self-medicating the memories and anxiety that he was left with after his experiences in war.

Vito never talked a lot about war. In fact, I only have one memory of what he told me about his experience. He told me the hardest part of being in the Navy during the war was that one of his "duties" was to discard the bodies of his deceased mates. He explained that this consisted of throwing the dead bodies overboard into the shark infested Pacific Ocean. The bodies of men that had come to be his compadres and his buddies. I cannot even imagine what that must have been like for him. That's not something you ever forget and he didn't.

In reading "Unbroken," I have come to regret not sitting down with Vito and listening to his stories. What a brave man he was and his experiences shaped the person he was. I should have taken the time to listen, to understand what life was like on that Navy ship, and I didn't. Vito died several years ago and buried with him are his memories of World War II. Memories and experiences that cannot be dug up - perhaps that's the way he wanted it.

Thinking of you Granddad.....

Oh So Delicate

I don't remember worrying about something going wrong during my pregnancy with Connor. Maybe it's because at that time not everyone around me was trying to conceive or already pregnant. Over the past few years, I've been reminded that the beginning of human life is extremely delicate and sometimes God has a plan we don't necessarily understand.

In 2006, I was oblivious to how common miscarriages are, how difficult it is for some couples to conceive and just how precious every week of pregnancy is. I had the experience in 2009-2010 of witnessing one of my best friends go through the emotional toll of trying to conceive. Standing by her side, emotionally, what strength and courage she showed on her long journey that led to fertility treatments. I saw first hand the worry about whether or not she and her husband were even capable of creating and then the anxiety, hope and upset associated with fertility treatments. I couldn't relate but her pain was my pain and her experience was one of two happenings "around" me that reminded me just how little control we have when it comes to conception. I was also humbly reminded of just how fortunate I am to have had an easy time conceiving. I am thankful for being witness to her experience.

A second event occured to someone who is an acquaintance but the experience affected someone dear and close to my heart. This acquaintance miscarried at about 22 weeks gestation. How devastating for her and her family. Yet again, something before hearing of her experience, had not been something within my scope. For the majority of people walking around, it isn't even a thought that there are women every day dealing with the loss of a child either in the womb or shortly after delivery. For me, it's on my radar and has altered my own thinking regarding pregnancy and loss.

Because of the experiences of people around me, throughout my current pregnancy, I continue to be very aware that being able to conceive and carry a child is indeed a blessing and one not to be taken lightly. After each appointment to check on Baby Girl Cook, I breathe a sigh of relief and thank God for a healthy baby and a pregnancy that is being protected by someone far greater than me. None of us are meant to understand the why and why nots of life but we can learn from our own experiences and the experiences of others. It's the experiences like I have mentioned that force us to look beyond ourselves and attempt to accept that in all actuality, at the end of the day we have very little control over most things in our lives. That's a difficult one. I guess that's why I spend a lot of time with my clients teaching them the importance of using their energy to work on the things they can control and accept those things in life that are simply out of their realm of power.

So, in moving forward, with each kick I feel and heartbeat I hear, I am full of gratitude. Grateful for a process that is completely out of my control and one that cannot be explained.

*Pic taken from internet.

Settling Hormones

Ok, so I must give credit where credit is due. A few posts ago I wrote about my mood being far less than "normal." One of my doctors attempted to reassure me weeks ago that what I was feeling was "most likely" hormonal and around 24-26 weeks I should start to notice a change...for the better. Well, I do believe he is right.

I just hit the 24 week mark (holy cow only 16 weeks to go). And I do feel better. I feel motivated, have had several days of cleaning sprees, felt like cooking and all together feel more like myself. Thank Goodness!

As I mentioned in an earlier post, feeling depressed was a new one for me. Fortunately, depression is not something I have had to battle in my past. Now that I've experienced it for a couple of months during this pregnancy, I have an even greater level of empathy for my clients that suffer from chronic depression. It is my hope that this new experience follows suit with my perception that my own life experiences only add to my clinical abilities and serve to enhance my clinical practice. For this, I am grateful.

"FIVE...when did that happen?!?"

I'm a couple weeks late but my baby boy turned 5 on March 3! I feel like just yesterday my precious sidekick was born. Since day 1, he has been my baby, my teacher, my sidekick, and my challenger. There's not a day that goes by that my love for Connor doesn't grow stronger and there's not a day that goes by that he doesn't try my patience in one form or another. I can hear my mother saying "PAYBACK!" Even with the challenges of parenthood, I would not trade one moment spent with my lil guy.

In 2006, I had not started blogging yet, so I want to take a few minutes and document my memories of March 3, 2006. The day my life and heart were changed forever.

Very briefly, my water broke at about 5:45am. I was 39 weeks. As I rolled over, the sheets soaked, I told Hagie that I thought my water had just broke. His classic response "Are you sure you didn't just wet the bed?" I called the Emory midwives who told me I could take my time but that I should be at Emory Crawford Long by 9am or so. I surprised myself at just how calm I was. Having no discomfort or pain, I proceeded to take a shower, call my parents and sister, and make sure everything was in place for when Connor would come home. Even had time to ride through the Chick-fil-A drive thru.

Not surprisingly, Hagie and I had waited until the last minute to install the infant car seat. Sooo...a stop by the Virginia Highlands fire station was in order. The only thing I really remember about this part was the fireman asking me when I was due. I chuckled as I told him "now!"

Hagie and I arrived at Crawford Long about 9am and the nurse got me set up with an IV port and I waited to see a midwife. I knew they were going to admit me because my water had broke but I certainly didn't feel like I was in active labor. Still no pain..the only pain I had endured so far was the nurse stabbing my vein and blood spewing all over her and the floor. That was pretty!

I was admitted and checked and I had barely dilated. I was encouraged to walk and walk and walk. There's only so many times I could walk in the same circle. After a few hours, the midwife agreed to induce contractions/labor with pitocin. This was at about 2:30-3pm. It sure didn't take long after being hooked up to the pitocin that my contractions began and my body began to dilate. I remember laying in the bed, mom and dad and my sister Kelli in the room. Hagie sat beside me looking at comic books online. Now that I write that, it's kinda funny. I ended up asking for the epidural as my pain became more and more intense.

It wasn't long before my body began progressing quickly. Dad and Kelli left the room and Hagie and Mom stayed by my side. With my blood pressure getting higher than they wanted, it was a good thing that Connor decided "let's do this!" I recall as my sister left the room, telling her to get the midwife ASAP because I HAD to push! About 4 pushes and 15 minutes later, Connor arrived in the world at 8:58pm. Hagie swears that Connor arrived with his head turned looking towards Daddy. What a great memory! Connor arrived weighing in at 6 pounds, 5 ounces and was 19 inches long. Completely bald and a little jaundice.

After not being able to eat while in active labor, I was absolutely starving. My sweet and gracious Dad went to both Burger King and Krispy Kreme because I HAD to have a whopper and donuts:). Thanks Dad in case I never told you.

Well, that's the short version of my baby boy's entrance to this world. I will continue to love him, protect him, discipline him, and teach him so that he grows up to be a young man that can hold his head high. Praying for guidance and strength as Hagie and I have been entrusted with his precious life. We won't let him down!

It's a Girl

Well, time is passing quickly and Hagie and I found out last week that Baby Cook is a girl. I've had three ultrasounds thus far. At my 12 week ultrasound, they "guessed" boy but said it was really too early to be certain. So for about 7 weeks, I was convinced it was a boy. Hagie wasn't so sure :). So when the tech told us girl last week, I literally thought I was going to fall off the table. Good thing they took my blood pressure before the ultrasound!

Hagie and I are both thrilled. At almost 20 weeks, Baby Girl is healthy and growing on schedule. What a relief for any parent to see and hear. Her profile pictures look like Connor...can't wait to meet her and of course I wonder what she will look like. I'm going to go ahead and guess that she'll favor her father, just like Connor. But that's okay, I happen to think he's handsome.

Baby Girl has a first name...but it's top secret :). I'm just not ready to put it out there. Her name came easily. Back when Hagie and I were dating, we had many conversations about children and names. We've had this baby's name picked out for about 8 years. We are in love with her and her name. Now if the next 20 weeks will pass as quickly as the first half~!

At almost 20 weeks, I can FINALLY feel more than flutters. Last night, I felt my first real movement. It wasn't a kick but more like she just bumped into me. I envisioned her doing gymnastics and accidentally bumping into the side of my uterus. She bumped around for about 20 minutes and then she must have decided to take a little nap. It's strange how I've forgotten some of the physical feelings associated with pregnancy. When she bumped me, it was the strangest feeling; one that seemed brand new! It definitely took a few minutes to get used to. But the movement is so reassuring.

Now it's time to start preparing her nursery. I have a feeling July will be here before we know it! Oh...and shopping, oh the cute girl clothes!

Mind and Body

Ask me how it feels to live with anxiety and I can talk all day. Ask me how it feels to have "the blues" or "the blahs" and I'd tell you I am learning. And I don't like it.

Anxiety has been present in my life for as long as I can remember. But the way I have been feeling lately is VERY NEW. My doctor says its likely related to a change in my progesterone and estrogen levels. Normal for a pregnant person. I've been given the encouragement that by week 26 or so, my levels should even out and I should feel the "blahs" start to lift.

It's become so real to me just how linked our body and minds are. I'll give hormones some of the credit for my recent mood but I can't discount how not feeling physically well affects me too. I have definitely noticed that when my body feels yucky, my mind follows suit. Well this stinks! I am hanging in here, with constant reminders to myself that this too shall pass and in the end, I'll have a precious gift from God to hold in my hands. Some days that's enough, some days it isn't. The days that I struggle tend to be the days that I don't answer the phone, don't call friends to chat, don't respond quickly, if at all, to text messages and it takes all my energy to just "handle business."

I feel fortunate to have a group of girlfriends that pay attention and recognize when I am having one of my days. My husband also falls into this category. Hagie is quick to pick up on if I am being too quiet or I am just not acting like myself. The hard part is it's difficult to explain to others when I really don't quite understand it myself. I guess what's nice is that to my husband and to my "girls" I don't have to explain, they just know. There lies the comfort.

A shout out to my hubby and my girls for recognizing when I'm not myself and for reaching out when I won't.

Good Riddance 1st Trimester

I'm about a month out of the first trimester of pregnancy and am starting to have some good days. I wanted to take a minute and document how the first 14 weeks went for me. I have to say, out of the 14 weeks, I'd say the only "good" weeks were the first 4.5 weeks, of which I didn't know I was pregnant and my body had not started all the wonderful (insert sarcasm here) hormonal changes. My list is not pleasant but it's real.

Let's see, for about ten and half weeks, I experienced all of the following, alone or in combination daily:
-All day nausea
-Dry heaving (I may or may not have peed on myself during my dry heaving moments)
-"other" digestive issues
-Absolutely no energy...walking to the mailbox felt like I'd run a marathon, not to mention keeping up with my clients and my active, happy big boy
-Feeling irritable and annoyed about 100% of the time
-Food aversions of all kinds...food was definitely NOT my friend.
-Not caring what my house looked like
-Not wanting to be bothered by anyone...the couch or the bed was where I wanted to be
-Taking short naps on my office couch just to attempt to settle my stomach and gain a little energy
-My weekly menu really just consisted of Ginger Ale, Spaghetti O's with hot sauce, Poptarts, Chicken flavored Ramen Noodles, and Cinnamon Rolls. Thank God for prenatal vitamins!
-Thoughts of "how am I going to do this?"

Now that I am 17 weeks pregnant, I can say that the days are getting better. My biggest complaint are the pregnancy migraines that seem to make an appearance about every three days or so. I have a new found level of empathy for all those that suffer from migraines regularly. Many a day I want to put my head on a chopping block and just knock it off! My energy is slowly coming back and the food aversions are getting better. Baby Cook still seems to have his/her favorites but at least the thought of food no longer makes me want to vomit.

I recognize this post won't be interesting to anyone else but me. However; my blog is my journey and the highs and lows of pregnancy are a part of my world.

17 weeks and counting....