Do I Regret Parenthood?

I think most people out there expect my answer to be a resounding no. But it's not. It also isn't a yes. The world simply isn't black and white. I love my daughter. However there are times that I want to sell her to the neighbors so I can have a moment of peace and quiet between the hours of 6 am and 10 pm. Especially on the weekend since she's too young to understand the joy of languishing in bed past 6 am.

I really wanted to sell her during the latest bout of stomach flu. She was puking and having diarrhea, at the same time, in the middle of the night, in the middle of the hallway. Once she had expelled everything from her body and I'd cleaned up everything (her, her bed, my bed, the hallway, her room, the bathroom and the dog), I laid in bed with her while she drifted off to sleep. She was in my arms, stroking my cheek. Suddenly she said "Mama, I love these things on your face. They make you beautiful". I "umm hmm"d her while I thought "what things on my face".

As soon as she was asleep, I ran to the bathroom mirror to see what she was talking about. Had I forgotten to take off my makeup and I had mascara streaks from my tears at cleaning up vomit and diarrhea off every surface in our upstairs and the dog who came to investigate what was going on?  Did I, god forbid, have vomit or diarrhea on my face?  Or was it something else entirely?  I looked in the mirror and rubbed at what appeared to be lines on my face. But they didn't go away. If anything, they became more pronounced. Yes, my daughter thinks my under eye wrinkles are beautiful. Now, I'm not opposed to them being beautiful. Maybe someday I'll even agree with her. However, I didn't even know I had them. And when I woke up the next morning, they were still there. I always knew that a daughter would likely tell me things I didn't want to hear. But I thought that wouldn't happen until at least 11 or 12, not almost 4.

Pregnancy.

Pregnancy for me meant vomiting while trying to work.  I don't mean a little nausea.  I mean full blown puking 25-30 times during the work day.  That finally stopped once my doctor found a three drug cocktail that controlled it.  I started each work day getting an IV with fluids and anti-nausea meds. Then I started taking pills every two hours until I went to bed at night.  The extremely unfortunate side effect of that cocktail of drugs was that I would literally fall asleep on my feet at times.  Which inevitably happened when I was in court, never when it would go unnoticed.  Perhaps that is because I'd be sitting at my desk and fall asleep there, only to be awakened by the ringing phone or someone walking into my office.  Or the need to vomit because the drugs only made it better.  They didn't get rid of the problem entirely.  I became quite adept at pulling the car over, cracking open the door and puking on the side of the road, all while avoiding rain, sleet and snow.  That went on for 8 months.  During that 8 months, I barely remember getting off the couch.  I changed my assignment at work so that I wouldn't have to do trials (and thus risk vomiting in front of a jury). I took all 300+ hours of sick leave I had saved up.

It finally stopped at about 8 months in.  It felt like a miracle.  And I had a full two weeks without hurling my guts out.  Then the baby turned and decided it'd be really fun to stand upright and jump around any time I even thought about food, nonetheless when I actually ate.  That in many respects was worse than before because the puking would come without any warning whatsoever.  But it was also better since at least the constant nausea was gone.

I went out on maternity leave a few weeks before my peanut was born.  I had planned to work up to my due date but of course my plan went out the window the day before my baby shower.  I had been unable to feel anything but pins and needles in my feet for weeks by then and walking up and down the three flights of stairs to my office every day was quite a chore to put it mildly.  Yet I was still determined to stick it out.  But then I had a client interview in which my client was complaining about how no one would hire him.  Of course no one would hire him.  He had a god damn pirate beard with beads and feathers and shit in it.  Oh and he was pretty much constantly high.  I told him that I knew a quick fix for a part of his problem.  He of course asked what it was and I felt my scissors in my hand.  Thankfully, I came to my senses before I reached across the desk and cut off his beard.  At that moment, I knew it was time to take my leave....

Why I'm Starting a Blog

I guess that's the big question.  Why?  Well, because I'm finding the interaction between career and parenthood to be difficult, interesting, stressful, etc. etc.  What better way to get it all out of my head than to put it all on a blog sending it out over the internets for all to see?

Here's my background.  I'm a 42, almost 43, year old mother, wife and lawyer.  My daughter is soon to be 4 years old and there are days, like today, where she tests my every bit of patience.  There are others when I can't imagine being away from her for even a second, again like today.  My husband is quite a bit older than me and our daughter is his second child.  We don't have much contact with his son, in part because he's made the choice not to fight for it.  I wish we saw him more but you take what life hands you and life has handed us very little time.  My job is incredible and it is terrible.  I've been a lawyer for very close to 20 years now, practicing criminal defense.  I've practiced every area of criminal defense, from misdemeanors to felonies to juveniles.  Right now, my primary focus is juveniles and very serious felonies.

So as this blog develops, I will post about my life, my loves, my heart aches and anything else that pops up on my radar.  That's the benefit of a blog.  I can post what I want.

I will start at the beginning.  I met my husband through my job.  We represented co-defendants in a first degree murder case.  About 6 months after we started dating, I was diagnosed with cervical cancer.  I went through tons of stress and had a medical procedure.  Afterwards, I was told that it'd be virtually impossible for me to get pregnant.  You all can see the writing on the wall now, I am sure.  My husband proposed to me a few months later.  Less than 2 months after that, I had the worst stomach flu ever.  After a week of puking my guts out, I realized I was feeling worse and my period was late.  4 positive tests later, I finally believed I was pregnant.  And that was the start of it all.