I have a folder in my Gmail named “Read on Bad Days” and it is exactly what it sounds like. When I’m having a bad day at work, or just a bad day in general, I open this folder and just start reading.

It has emails from lots of different people: birthday wishes, thank yous, silly poems. There’s one from my boss thanking me for making her look good. There’s an old love letter from Big Love, back when we had time to be in love, promising me that he was going to hold me in his arms and tell me he loved me every single day. There’s another email from a coworker that has become dear to me in only five months. She just wanted to let me know that she cares. She said that when she doesn’t know what to do for someone she always prays, “Let me hold them up to the light and see what shines through.”

How wonderful is that? I have a whole folder of reminders that there are so many people holding me up to the light. I’ve been reading that folder a LOT lately. Most of the time that lifts my spirits enough to get through the rough patch. Fix the divot. Patch the hole. Right what’s wrong in me.

But sometimes it’s just not enough.

I have a lot on my plate right now. A lot of worries about people I love and a lot of worries about me. I had a visit with the rheumatologist last week that gave me answers that I didn’t want to hear. I guess I should be thankful that I got some answers at all because now I can make a plan to be healthier. I’m not thankful, though. I’m a lot of things but not thankful. Not yet. I’ll be thankful later.

Right now, I’m mad that I can’t just take a pill or have a surgery and make it all better. I’m mad that Ladybug is getting all the same answers! I’m mad at myself for feeling sorry for myself when there are bigger things looming in the not too distant future. I’m mad that it’s 2020 and there’s STILL no cure for cancer! I’m mad that time just keeps ticking no matter how badly I need it to pause. I’m mad that sometimes the thing that can give you more time steals the reasons why you want more! I’m mad that humans aren’t kinder to each other. And I’m mad that some promises are too hard to keep.

And I’m sad, so very sad, because there’s nothing I can do to change any of those things.

No amount of loving and uplifting emails is going to change any of it but still I read them every day. Hoping that some of the love and kindness that was sent in them will shine through me, carry me along a little longer.

I think we all should have a folder like that, full of things that will make you smile even if just for a few minutes. And I hope that if you go and make a Read On Bad Days folder you will stick this in it because I know what’s wrong with you.

I see you posting uplifting memes on FaceBook that you know your friend needs to see. But you need to see it, too! I see you carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders and still trying to help your friends carry theirs. I see you offering help but never asking. I know we all have obstacles to overcome but we don’t have to do it alone. Even when we literally have to do it alone we can still cheer each other on and hold each other up to the light. We can be strengthened by helping others be strong.

I know there are days when you feel like nothing you do is going to be enough but you keep going anyway. You just keep going.

I know what’s wrong with you because it’s the same thing that’s wrong with me.

Life is heavy.

Every single one of us has a load to carry. Sometimes it’s not bad at all. Sometimes it feels like you are breaking. Those are the times that you have to hold tight to the people pulling for you. Read all the memes with the pretty pictures and save them to a special folder on your phone (I have one of those, too.) or screenshot the texts from your friends saying “You got this.” Because you do.

And I do, too.

I don’t really believe that yet but I’ll keep saying it until I do. Tell yourself it’s going to be alright and listen to others when they tell you. The words won’t change anything but they can keep you going until you really are alright.

And I will like all the memes you keep posting for both of us. I’ll post some for you, too. I’ll read my “Read On Bad Days” emails and I will tell myself, “See, Regina??? You’re awesome! Everything is going to be alright.”

You should tell yourself that, too. If you can’t, then hear me when I tell you.

You are awesome. Everything is going to be alright.

I have always loved a good Post Script on a letter. It’s a wonderful way to add in something you wanted to say but it just didn’t quite happen in the main part. A post script allows you to go off topic and just throw in something beautiful, like “P.S. I love you.”

Sometimes life is like that, too. You do your best to live a life that makes you happy and sometimes you get to the end of a chapter but you need to add a little something.

We had some major excitement at work this past week and I was a little worried that we were going to have to deliver a baby in the parking lot! It all turned out okay (ambulance arrived before we had to boil water and get some towels) but it has me thinking a lot about my little post script – The Boy.

There is a thirteen year age gap between Ladybug and The Boy. I often joke that I have “bookends” but no books. It wasn’t that I didn’t want more books. Ladybug begged for a little brother for all thirteen of those years! It just didn’t go that way. Then, right about the time that THAT chapter was coming to an end we decided to throw in a little something beautiful – P.S. The Boy.

Today we celebrate nine years since The Boy entered our lives and Wow, did he make an entrance. We’ve had nine years of watching him grow and attempting to keep up with his energy and his curiosity and his big big brain! Ladybug has had nine years of teaching him how to be really annoying and then getting annoyed by the things she taught him. It’s been an adventure!

In my previous blog, Spinning Plates, I told the story of his arrival and I thought this would be a good time to share it again. It was a good day but the days that followed have been even better. Ladybug absolutely adores the brother that she waited forever for, even when she wants to punch him in the face. I think The Boy is conducting an experiment to see exactly how many buttons he can push before she bursts into flames. You can really feel the love. (That made me laugh out loud when I typed it!)

They really do care for each other, though. Support each other’s interests and take care of each other’s hearts and they are prepared to take down anybody that hurts the other. They love each other just a little bit.

P.S. I love them!

The Boy Arrives Originally Published November 15, 2011 on http://www.thespin.blog.com

For those of you interested in this sort of thing, I thought I would share one of those “Stories for Another Day” – the whole story of one very exciting Friday – January 21, 2011 – the day we welcomed The Boy into the world. It’s totally TMI but it’s a good story.

On Thursday, January 20th, Big Love and I attended our FIRST childbirth class at the hospital. We learned a lot about breathing through contractions and relaxation techniques. But the instructor pointed out that the most important part of being the coach was knowing mommy and what she needs and being able to follow her cues. When we got home we had a long talk about what relaxes me and what kind of delivery I wanted to have. I really didn’t want any drugs but I realized that sometimes plans change and I just wanted what was best for The Boy. Big Love agreed and told me that if I wanted this delivery to be drug free then he had absolute faith in me that it would be drug free and everything would be just fine. Apparently The Boy was listening to his Daddy and took that as his cue.

Friday morning about 5 a.m. I was startled awake by the sensation that I was peeing myself. I had that “Holy cow!” moment but was able to stop the flow and went to the bathroom. I cleaned myself up, changed jammies and went back to bed. Not too long later the same thing happened. I thought “Okay, EIGHT months with no bladder control trouble and now this?!?!?!?!”

Then it happened again.

Yes, it did occur to me that it could be my water breaking but at 35 weeks…Nahhh. And I could stop the flow so surely the baby had changed positions or something and now I was going to need diapers for the last month of my pregnancy.

So Big Love went to work. The Teenager missed the bus and I drove her to school and wet myself again as I was getting out of the Jeep to come home. Okay, somethings up. I called in sick to work and said something lame like “sinus trouble” or something because no way was I going to say “I can’t come in today because I can’t stop wetting myself.” Then I actually chatted with two of my bffs and laughed that I wasn’t going to work because I keep peeing my pants!

Around 8:30, I called the doctors office and told them what was going on. The nurse told me to come in because it could be that he just shifted or it could be something else. She said “I would feel better if you just came in. Can you be here at 9:15?”

Ummmmm….no, of course I can’t be there in 30 minutes! I’ve gotta shower! I told her I could be there at 10:15.

Big Love said he would go with me to the doctor’s just to make sure everything was alright. He called my Daddy to “mind the store” and told him “We won’t be long. I should be back by 1:00.” Famous last words.

While I was in the shower there was a moment of “Oh! That was a lot of pressure.” Followed by a “Oooooh. THAT was a LOT of pressure.”

By the time we got to the doctor’s office I knew exactly what was going on but thought I would be polite and let the midwife tell me. After all, we really adore her and she cleared her schedule to see me, it was only fair. So she did the litmus test and it IMMEDIATELY turned blue. Big Love’s eyes got real big and he said “That turned awful fast.” We knew what that meant because it was one of the things discussed in our childbirth class. She went to do the ferning test and when she walked back in the room she said “Well, we get to have a baby today!”

Yeah, I knew what was going on but something about her saying it out loud was a little too real. But that was okay because I had been so calm this whole time and JUST when I started to get nervous a serenity came over my husband. He just said “Okay.” And smiled like she had just asked him if he’d like to be king of the world.

She said she didn’t want to disturb anything “down there” but she wanted to check me just to see how things were progressing. I have never seen anybody move more slowly or cautiously. She VERY gently removed her hand and said “Go straight to the hospital. DO NOT stop anywhere. I will meet you there. Walk SLOWLY.”

I was at 6 centimeters.

Yes, I had a hospital checklist. I had a birthplan in the works. But I had not packed a thing. I didn’t have a gown to wear at the hospital. I didn’t have The Boy’s little hat embroidered like I had planned. Or put together the little goodies for hospital visitors. I had a month to finish all that stuff or that was the plan. Plans change.

The people at the hospital must not be used to people coming in calmly and telling them that they’re having a baby because they certainly didn’t seem in any rush. I would close my eyes and hold Big Love’s hand through contractions as they made a copy of my insurance card and asked me “How do you spell your street name?” (Oh yes, PLEASE make sure that my street address is spelled right, just in case you need to MAIL my son to me. Don’t want him going to the wrong address! ) Just when I was about to yell that they needed to step it up a notch she said – “Okay. We’ll show you upstairs.” Oh thank goodness!

When we got up there it wasn’t much better. I stopped at the counter and told them who I was. They asked why I was there. I said “My midwife should have faxed over my information. I’m here to have a baby.”

They looked at me.

And then they looked at me some more.

Why wasn’t anybody MOVING??? I asked “Would it help if I did this?” And I drooped over the counter and said “I’M HAVING A BABY RIGHT NOW!” The snarky nurse said “You’ll get more attention like that.” By that time, they found the orders that the midwife had faxed over and at noon a nurse (beautiful, lovely, one of my new favorite people) took me to a room, put me in a gown and put me in bed. A wonderful soft clean warm bed.

My father-in-law showed up to see how things were going and Big Love told him “Fast.” He was only there a few minutes (we chatted about something but I don’t really remember what) and then I told my husband that it was time to kick out his dad. The nurse needed to check me. The nurse said “I don’t want to disturb anything down there.” And then looked at the little machine thingy that measures contractions and with eyes wide said “MAN! You are bangin’ ‘em out! Yeah, I’ll check you.”

She checked and immediately started buzzing the nurses desk and told them to call the midwife and get her here NOW. She told me to try not to push until the midwife got there but if I needed to push just tell her first.

My Big Love was right by my side the whole time just quietly holding me but now he knew this was his turn at bat. He grasped my hand and put his other hand on my head and started rubbing my head telling me everthing was going to be okay. He breathed with me and told me everything I needed to hear. “You can do this, baby. I’m right here. I love you so much.” Hearing his voice, so reassuring, really helped me to focus on what we were here to do. Bring our son into the world.

The midwife arrived in record time and I was SOOOO glad to see her. I don’t think I could have breathed through many more of those contractions, no matter how much my hubby loves me!

I don’t know what time it was when we started pushing but I know that Big Love held my hand (and a leg) through the whole thing. And the nurse (holding my other leg) counted while we took deep breathes and pushed, pushed, pushed, pushed.

At 12:53, my husband looked at me with the biggest smile and said “Honey, HE LOOKED AT ME!” One more little push and The Boy was all the way out. The midwife laid him on my chest and he was so beautiful and so wiggly and really really pissed. He cried and it sounded like a little goat – an angry little goat. The midwife had prepared me for a really skinny, not-so-cute preemie but he was gorgeous at 6 lb 5 oz and 19 3/4 inches long.

The midwife asked Big Love if he’d like to cut the cord and he said “Where do I cut?” As soon as The Boy heard his voice he started blinking and turning his head in his daddy’s direction as if to say “Be careful Daddy. Give me a nice inny!”

And Big Love did.

It’s amazing what you can get used to. The first time you see something strange you may be shocked and appalled. Then you see it a few more times and you just shake your head. After a few more times, you don’t even blink. It’s like you don’t even know that it’s weird anymore.

Sometimes that’s good. When my little Ladybug was born she had Syndactyly. She was so tiny and beautiful and perfect but there was this one little hand that didn’t look like the other. It looked so strange to me, like she was wearing the tiniest mitten.

She had her first surgery at four months old and they continued until she was two. I had to change her bandages and clean the wounds and once the doctor even had to talk me through removing some stitches that were not dissolving. Sounds nuts, right?

I just got used to it. It was what I needed to do as her mama, so I did it.

And after a while, that little “lucky fin” didn’t seem weird anymore. It was precious! I loved that little hand! Especially that tiny pinky! I have gotten so used to it that when a friend showed me a picture of another kid with a lucky fin, it took me a lot longer than it should have to notice it.

Sometimes, though, it’s not so good to just get used to things the way they are. Just because things have been a certain way for a long time, doesn’t mean they have to stay that way. It’s almost like you forget that they should be different, or that it’s even possible!

I’ve been in pain for a long time. Migraines, joint pain, back pain, they’ve all kind of run my life for a while now. When they first started getting bad, I just took some Advil and went about my business. But then they got so bad that the medicine wasn’t working. So, I did what any crazy person would, I just got used to it.

Maybe it’s because I’m so old and wise now (I am neither of those!) but I don’t want to just get used to things like that anymore! I don’t remember the last time I was pain-free but I do know that this weekend I was as close to pain-free as I have been in a long time. It’s because I finally remembered that it’s weird to always have an ache somewhere and I did something about it. (Hopefully, I can keep the aches under control because I had a very productive weekend of Feng Shui-ing my bedroom!)

Similar things are going on with my Ladybug – physical aches and pains. Also, some emotional growing pains and trying to find her place in the world. It’s tough.

But I’m making sure that she does things differently. We talk about things that I never would have dreamed of talking about with my mother! We are asking questions, even the dumb ones, just to see what answers are in the world and which answers might work for her.

We are also talking to doctors NOW about why she’s in so much pain. They’ve run blood tests and done a bunch of xrays. She has an MRI scheduled for next week. Maybe when she’s my age she will know that you don’t have to hurt all the time. Maybe she will keep looking for answers instead of just getting used to it.

Of course, sometimes doctors don’t have all the answers. Like the doctor who informed us today that one of her hands is smaller than the other. He said it was congenital and asked if we had any concerns.

Uhhhhhhhh…no. We’ve been aware of the Lucky Fin for about 22 years now, but thanks.

So, maybe that particular doctor didn’t have answers but he did provide me with a car ride full of eye rolling and semi hysterical laughter with my sweet and brave daughter.

I could get used to that.

I can’t believe it’s 2020! All around me people are talking about their resolutions and what they’re going to do different this year. I am so excited for them! I know my year will be full of character building opportunities and things that don’t kill me and, I’m sure, some personal growth.

Growth is hard, though. And often painful.

Tonight was a pretty rough night in our house. I had some difficult conversations and had to say things that I thought I would never have to say – things that I hoped and prayed I would never have to say. Tonight I said them.

At bedtime, I tucked the covers around The Boy and crawled into his bed to snuggle for a bit. (He is the best snuggler!) He reached into his repertoire of Sleep Evading Maneuvers and pulled out Thought Provoking Questions. He almost always wins with that one.

He asked how long it’s been since he’s been to school and I told him, about three full weeks. Then I had to remind him that before vacation he had his tooth pulled. How could he forget that?!?!? THAT was a terrible day!

I kept him out of school because of a bad toothache and made him an appointment with the dentist. The dentist did an x-ray and said he had developed a cavity in the tooth and now there was a slight abscess – not big enough to cause serious problems but big enough to cause a lot of pain. The tooth had to come out.

So we waited around the office for two and a half hours for them to work us into the schedule and then finally took him back. They started the laughing gas and knew he was ready when he started asking if the nurse had his rocks. (WHAT ROCKS???) He wasn’t laughing but we sure were!

They used plenty of Novocain and numbed him up real good. He was drooling like a Bull Mastiff! But when they tried to pull the tooth, it just wasn’t going down without a fight. The dentist pulled and wiggled and wiggled and pulled but that sucker was STUCK. It was taking so long and the roots were so deep that the Novocain wasn’t helping anymore. My Boy started feeling the pain and started crying. He pulled me close to him and held on as tight as he could.

Well, of course, as soon as he started crying , he couldn’t breathe in the laughing gas anymore so that started wearing off. Things were going south pretty quickly! The dentist said, “We’ve got to just do it. Okay?” Okay. So I draped myself over The Boy like a security blanket and the Hygienist held all the tools with one hand and gently stroked The Boy’s head with her other. And the Dentist pulled with all his might.

The Boy let out a wail that could be heard throughout the building but that damn tooth finally came out!!!

The bleeding stopped pretty quickly but it took about an hour to get The Boy to stop crying. I held him and rocked him and soothed him and did all the Mommy things but he just couldn’t get the crying under control. When I told him he sounded like Moaning Myrtle (from Harry Potter) he didn’t even laugh. It was pretty horrible for all involved and took a while for the healing to begin.

So when he asked me tonight how long it had been since he’d been to school, we had to factor in winter break and tooth extraction recovery time. It’s been a while.

Then he started asking other questions. Big questions.

Questions about life and some about death. Questions about love and losing love. Questions about red-tailed black sharks being critically endangered. We talked about all kinds of things.

Then he got quiet and wrapped his little arms around me and began to cry.

I held him close and I cried too. At one point, he said, “I don’t even know why I’m crying. Do you?”

I gave him the best answer I could come up with on short notice and tears streaming down my face…

Tonight we cry because our hearts have been broken. We cry for those poor red-tailed black sharks. We cry because we’ve lost people we love and because we know we’re going to lose more people we love. We cry because tomorrow is Monday and we have to go back to reality after we’ve spent two weeks playing and reading and building ALL the Lego sets. We cry because it will be so good to see all our friends that we have missed so much! Tonight we cry.

But tomorrow…tomorrow we will get up and our hearts will be a little less broken. We will hold each other close and soak in the strength of the people who are always there for us. The daylight will help us remember good things about those we’ve lost and give us the opportunity to make more memories with those we still have. We’ll get to see our friends again and hug them so tight! Maybe we’ll even think of a way to help that shark!

Tomorrow we will be strong again and put on happy faces and have wonderful days but tonight we cried.