Every Picture Tells a Story

My baby, She's a Senior. We are busy rushing to and fro for Senior pictures, trying to meet deadlines, school senior meetings, paying for announcements, class rings, scholarship applications, ACT testing, College Applications, volunteering, all the while she is still keeping up with her 4 APclasses-homework. It is busy. Being busy is really not my strong suite. The stress of it all came crashing down yesterday when I came home to dishes in the sink at 7pm. I look back now and laugh. I wasn't laughing last night. I was yelling. Oops, super mom fail! Ethan got the most of it....a lengthy lecture on how he needs to take responsibility for himself and his homework. He wasn't doing himself a favor last night when he decided to wait till 7pm to do his homework that we had talked about at 330pm. The minute I left the house to take Valerie to Aldonza's apartment for some makeup tips, he decided it was xbox with dad time. I had to apologize to Mark later for my outburst and told him I was super stressed and that was NO excuse. I realized one thing last night. I should be celebrating Valerie this year, not bitching about how expensive it is and how she needs to be more greatful with what I can afford to give her. Bad MOM again! I am messing up this year big time. So.....

I'm going to sit in the pocket. I am going to enjoy the view from the pocket. I am going to look for opportunities where I can assist her and help her reach the end zone. I am staying in the pocket searching for ways I can celebrate her. Here is one of my ideas. I am going to do these "Every Picture Tells a Story (EPTAS)" posts. I am looking through lots of photos trying to do a project for her school so I thought I would post some and give the story behind them. Celebrating and remembering how she has impacted my life. 

Fitting to start at the beginning: EPTAS

 I was induced on March 15th 1999 for high blood pressure. It was a long day. Mark and my mom were in the room. It was a silent room as I struggled to deal with the painful contractions Pitocin pushed me through. Here I was sitting on a birthing ball, with my bag of waters broken, waiting for the next contraction. Fast forward to pushing and getting no where! You were my first c/s. I was scared, and your dad was even more scared. They helped me relax by giving me some medication after you were born.

 

My first look. You were beautiful, amazing, and MINE! We created you. My blonde, blue eyed, fair skinned princess. I called you Sweet Pea. You had worked so hard to come out that your little head had some length in the back that would soon resolve. I couldn't wait to hold you.

 

Recovery time was grueling. I was asleep for the most part but it was more like twilight sleep. I could hear everyone around me talking about you. I knew my mom had you in her arms. I wanted you, but couldn't  stay awake long enough to look at you. They eventually put you in my arms and everything felt so right in the world. The pain was gone, all I felt was the intense desire to be the best mom in the world. I loved you like none other. During the night we spent more time together. I was able to stay awake and we talked, made promises, breast fed for the first time, named you, and began my journey as YOUR mom. I also began my journey as a nurse that night. I asked our nurse how she got to her position. What I needed to do with my education to have the exact same job. I got answers, completed a blood draw that next morning without crying, and breast fed you again all during that first night.