The Moon

So, last night we spent time as a family looking at the moon. I noticed something. With the naked eye, there is a huge contrast. There are definite shadows and areas of light. Through the telescope, you see more. You see the trenches and the craters and the gouges, marks of events that changed the landscape of the moon. But you don't see the dark and the light.

I feel like the moon sometimes. When I am right with myself and letting God in, moment by moment, I can see the gouges and craters that have made me. I can appreciate them for what they are, even see a small shadow here and there. But there's not the huge demarcation between light and dark. I've been feeling that evenness for almost two months now. I've been amazed at how much of a change there has been. I have also, frankly, been on the verge of terrified that my old self will come back. Knowing that it is likely is why I have been putting my support network into place. The pieces are lined up, but the slowness of life during the holiday season has dictated that they aren't actually in place yet.

So the contrast came back Friday night. I kept trying to hold onto the areas of light, but the shadows kept creeping up. I began feeling like I hated myself. I began to feel a hurt so bad it was physical. At one point, I scratched my arm to try and distract myself. Usually there's a sting and a dull ache after that. It went away too quickly. By the next morning there was no evidence, until I took a shower and the dull sting was there when the water hit. I was relieved to be reminded, but more relieved that while the pain had been just as intense in my heart, my reaction had diminished. I focused on the whole of my landscape, not just my shadows. I went there and managed to come back, maybe not unscathed, but certainly not battle scarred as was so often the case before. My fear had been realized and I moved through it. I walked it out. And that will give me strength the next time. The shadows will always be there, it is just in how I see them and respond.

For a smile, here's a pic P. took of the moon last night through the telescope- it's not great, camera phone pics never are. But the moon shines brightly. Today during church, I noticed during a song that so often the pictures that represent God are of the sun and sunlight. I started thinking the male and female perspective, old traditions, Apollo, the Goddess as represented by the phases of the moon...and I know that for now, to me, God is seen through the moon. The light and dark, the push and pull. The reflection of the sunlight.

It's not the waiting!

(first let me warn you, although this is the last of three entries today, it will show up first, so get ready for a blogfest)

After taking steps and making calls yesterday, I realized that my impression of my impatience was wrong. I always thought I could not stand uncertainty, couldn't stand waiting and not knowing. That's not it! It's the waiting and not doing. As soon as I start taking steps, preparing for the future one way or the other, my heart settles.

I am starting on a path and I am content to see where it leads me. I am not dragged along. I donned my hiking boots and grabbed a water bottle and set off with enthusiasm. This has happened before, and is certain to happen again. But whether it's moving, career, family, love...if I feel I am preparing myself for the future, I have no fears of it.

Because of a conversation with a former advisor, I learned all preparation doesn't have to be tangible. It can be spiritual and emotional also. I'm am learning where to go to find my peace, what liferaft I can cling to. I won't even stop and regret not asking for the help long ago. I will only rechoice that I have asked for it, and found it now.

2 + 2 =

Sometimes the answer is harder to find than the question. I was going through J's old pictures yesterday, reliving her early- well, her first year. Looking at the first family pictures, at 2weeks old, J already had bad baby acne. I remember scheduling the pictures then because I was hoping we'd do it before the acne set in. I read in The Baby Book that early onset of baby acne could be a sign of a milk sensitivity. When I mentioned it to my Kaiser appointed pediatrician, he blew it off. Of course, after my experience with peds and C and this particular ped insisting we owed it to society to risk our newborn by giving her the HepB vaccine, I should have known better than to listen. I shook off the feelings of disquiet and went about the new adventure of being a new mom to two.

Seeing pictures of J when she was oh so chubby, I thought, "I barely remember that stage!" Why? Because J suffered from colic. At night esp, we could never settle her. One thing never worked a second time. I was so sleep deprived that that's when I sank into depression. Not only that, but she got her first ear infection early on. C has not had an ear infection yet (and is past the age where that's a strong possibility). I put it to second baby syndrome. But now, looking back, I recall that is another sign of milk sensitivity.

Through my sleep depravation and depression, I remember discovering a dry patch on her leg. I felt so guilty, thinking, "What kind of care did I take of my baby that she had this and how long and why didn't I notice?" But it wouldn't go away! She now has a permanent patch of skin on her hand that I am 95% sure is eczema. That's...well, you probably already guessed it. Another sign of a milk sensitivity.

I really feel that if I had a pediatrician that had respected my instincts as a mother early on, we might have been able to avoid the worst of the colic, the eczema, the red dots that still show up around her mouth and even some of my depression. Because when I went on Weight Watchers and didn't think dairy was worthy of very many points, suddenly J and I were both happier. She was less fussy at night and I got more sleep. The depression was still there, once one of my bouts starts, it stays unless there are major changes and each one is worse than the last. But the sleep depravation part of it was gone.

Yet another lesson I can't trust it to one medical practitioner to look beyond his nose and I should always do my own research also. Because, sometimes, it is hard to see that 2+2=4.