Impressionable..me?

Maybe I am too impressionable. 

Probably one of my downfalls. 

Along with being passive-aggressive. 

Who am I?

Is it sad that an almost 25 year old isn't sure of what type of person she is?

Losing friendships.

Hi, my name is v and I am incapable of keeping any close friends. 

Ever since I can remember I have been horrible at keeping friends. 

It's hard enough to make friends, but keeping them too? 

I'm sure it all dates back to the divorce of my parents. 

It actually wasn't until my parents got divorced that I realized how damaged I really was. 

All of a sudden, I regain all these "lost" memories of my father leaving for months at a time only to be living with his gf. 

Memories of my father "walking" us. 

Yes I mean in how you would walk your dogs.

Showing up after months of no contact and making up for it by taking us for a walk. 

I know what you're thinking, "another girl with daddy issues" 

Mm, yeah I guess that's about right. 

For the most part anyways. 

Following each beating, my father would take off for a few days. 

Maybe guilt got to him for a few hours. 

But he'd make it back intime to get on the pulpit and preach Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays. 

So what does this have to do with me not keeping any friends?

Well besides the fact of feeling abandoned by the man that's supposed to protect you, and dealing and seeing sicking abuse, having innocence taken, 

I got tired of feeling. 

Everything. 

Building a safety wall was keeping me alive. 

And the second I befriend someone and we get close and you get on the other side of my wall, 

That uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach starts. 

To avoid feeling abandoned, hurt, abused, Id drop you before you get a chance to hurt me. 

I mean why would I give you chance after chance after chance only for you to keep hurting me? 

What sense does that make?

.....

Losing a friend is hard. 

Keeping a friend seems impossible. 

I can't write

I literally have nothing to say. 

Socially awkward.

Why is it so hard to make new friends?

Why am I so awkward when it comes to making new friends. 

I make you feel weird. 

I make myself feel weird. 

24 years old and still afraid of rejection. 

I already don't have many friends as it is.  

We are all just in different places in our lives. 

Clubs, drinking, going out, talking on the phone, don't interest me. At all. 

How bad is it that I'd rather stay home and watch lifetime?

I'm more of a homebody anyways. 

I'm unhappy when I go out. 

Keeping someone entertained is a lot of work. 

Man I sound horrible. 

This is who I am. 

But when is the truth ever pretty?

Ugh. Ok. 

Want to know

When I look at my son I wonder what hes thinking. I see his eyes just moving side to side, you can tell his brain is just going a million miles per hour. I would love to know what hes thinking. If I could ask him any two questions theyd be.. 1) does your spit up taste as bad as it smells? 2) do you know that i love you?

Heartbeat

One of the things I love about babies is that they thrive and move and breathe and sleep to the beat of your heart. 

Laying my son on my chest,

He squirms around till he can find my heartbeat. 

And he lays his ear on it and begins go fall asleep. 

If that's not amazing...or even poetic, idk what is. 

Babies are smart. 

They can tell a genuine heartbeat. 

Rhythm. 

I swear that when he looks at me he's starring right into my souls. 

His new eyes. 

His piercing, deep brown eyes. 

His new found ability to make eye contact.

I just really love this kid. 

My heart beats for him. 

This was completly random, I know. 

But I don't care. 

Stolen innocence

Is there anyone in today's world, today's society, that haven't gotten there innocence stolen from them?

Mine was taken from me years ago. 

It started at age 3. 

Stripped of everything. 

Things a child should see, hear, feel, experience, I been there.

 On more than one level. 

More than one type of innocence. 

I've never said anything bc I never thought anyone cared to listen. 

Do you care? 

Can you let me know?

Thank you for letting me know you aren't blind..

I was at publix with my son and a lady says to me "oh my, he is just too cute. And such beautiful olive skin. Oh it's almost the same color as mine..is...is his father...lighter...*whispers* "white?" 

I look at her and say yes, yes my husband is white. 

That has stuck with me. 

I wanted to say why does it matter anyways?

Maybe I took it the wrong way. 

Maybe I'm taking it the right way. 

Idk. 

What should it matter thst my son is a few shades lighter than me? 

He has my blood running through his veins. 

He's a piece of me. 

He's my heart. 

I don't see color when I look at my husband, I see love.

My hero. 

My bestfriend. 

My everything. 

It doesn't cross my mind that we aren't the same race until someone points it out. 

When I look at my son I don't see color, 

I see a miricale. 

I see love. 

Perfection. 

Gods hand. 

An angel. 

My heart. 

Innocence. 

Purity. 

I'm sure that lady didn't mean any harm and I'm not upset, 

But it saddens me that she felt the need to ask that question. 

Rude. 

If you like to talk, I'll let you talk.

All my life I've sort of learned to hold my tongue. 

Almost has become a part of me. 

I don't really talk much, I listen. 

My weakness. 

Whoever listens to me?

Who holds their tongue for me? 

It makes me sick that I'd rather let ppl talk than say something. 

It makes me sick that I'm even writing this. 

But relieved no one actually reads my blogs. 

May 18

Haitian flag day! 

I love where I come from. 

My struggle. 

Where I've been. 

What it means to be Haitian. 

The culture. 

The food. 

My people. 

My blood. 

Ayiti, cheri'm na 💙❤️💙❤️

Be kind.

Fire of a thousand suns

One sentence. 

"I love you with the fire of a thousand suns." 

And do you even know what that means. 

Broken beyond repair

I'm not supposed to be broken anymore. 

Can a person really be fixed?

I know it's a mental decision or whatever. 

What if your head and heart and emotions are still fighting each other. 

Head fights with heart. 

Heart fights with emotions. 

Emotions fight with head and heart.

Now, some days are good. 

Some days are bad. 

I have come a long way though. 

"I'm not like a car that can easily be fixed, I'm never gonna run right"

Struggle started April 16

We got home with our bundle April 13, 2014. 

He was born April 8, 2014. 

My contractions started early Saturday morning. 

Sunday my husband and I enjoyed our day at the flea market and I was fine. 

Early Monday morning my contractions got stronger. 

(First time pregnancy, I was clueless and wasn't sure what to expect with contractions)

Uncomfortable, painful (still bare able).

Monday afternoon I had an appointment and was told I'm only 1cm dilated and I wasn't feeling contractions I was feeling baby movements.  -_-

So we went home. 

Contractions continued to get worse. 

About 2am I call the midwife on call and she tells me if I come I I'll be sent home. 

I take a shower and drink honey water. 

Do laps around my kitchen. 

Crying. Praying. Singing. 

9am, I go walk a mile with my husband. 

11am my father in law suggests I go get checked out. 

When we get to the hospital I am 8 cm dilated and getting admitted. 

Baby is coming today. 

Natural birth. 

Cord around his neck 2 twice. 

Low sugar. 

Heart murmur. 

But the first time I saw him, 

I didn't see any of that. 

He was absolutely beautiful and perfect. 

My placenta was aged, had too much calcium and busted. 

Lost a lot of blood. 

I got an episiotomy. Ouch. 

While I was getting stiched up, they had to revive my little boy. 

They lost him for a little bit. 

Things no one told me till a day or two later. 

I was the last person to hold him. 

I tried to put him to breast and he latched!

His jitteriness and jerking alarmed the dr and they sent him to the nicu. 

He wasn't able to regulate his sugar and neither were they. 

They put him on forluma. 

A bottle. 

He was going through the fighting of an infection unknown. 

Hooked up to iv's. 

For 5 days.

On day 3, I was allowed to do skin to skin after his rounds of antibiotics and things started to turn around. ^_^

I pumped and sent the little milk I had to him in the nursery. 

Made things great. 

He really pulled through. 

After getting home, breastfeeding was the new struggle. 

April 16, 2014, seeking help. 

Seeing a consultant, research, days and nights of frustration, tears, and so much pain, we stuck through it. 

The struggle is real. 

But after 4 hard weeks and having eliminated the formula, the bottle, the shield, we are on an awesome roll. 

The struggle is so worth it. 

Still have some kinks we have to work through, just gonna take time. 

But I'm not giving up. 

Write.

Writing has been my saving grace. 

Idk what I would do if I wasn't able to write. 

I know what most ppl think, "you're 24 years old and you can't even carry on a verbal conversation and you write, how childish"

Well guess what, that's pretty true. 

Minus the childish part.

If you really knew me you'd know that I'm 24 years old, but I have an old soul. 

I've been through and seen more things than you could imagine, 

And I'm still here. 

I'm old for my age. 

But, talking just isn't my strong suit. 

I, myself, am awkward. 

I make ppl awkward. 

I make the conversations awkward. 

I stumble on my words. 

I, somehow, turn my words into hybrids. 

It's usually a recepie for disaster. 

So to save myself from horrible embarrassment, I'd rather write. 

I'd rather text you, email you, even send you snail mail than dial a phone number. 

Maybe  that is childish. 

With writing I feel like I can fully express myself and what I want to say, 

Uninterrupted. 

When I write, I can avoid facial rejection. 

Meaning, how someone reacts to what you say with their face. ie; eyes, eyebrows, forehead lines. 

When I write I know it's out there in the open and I can't retract it. 

When I write, I can get my words in line and arrange them how I want. 

The order of words make different meanings. 

When I write...I feel heard.

Important. 

Loved. 

Is that crazy?

Am I crazy?

Does this even make sense? 

Taking a break

I feel like a failure bc I have decided to take a break. 

After not being able to even stand the pain any longer, I'm taking a time out. 

But just for 24 hours. 

I feel as though we have tried everything. 

Nothing seems to make things better for us. 

Seems like things just keep getting worse. 

I'm so overwhelmed. 

This is so overwhelming. 

When you cried, 

I cried. 

Makes everything so hard. 

I want to so badly give up and take some time for myself. 

I need to do better at that.

I wonder though if other ppl have the same issues I have. 

Do you struggle like I'm struggling?

Do you hurt like I hurt?

Can you just step forward and tell me you know how I feel and what I'm going through bc you, too, have or is going through the same thing I am. 

I guess this is like me quote unquote paying my dues. 

But I don't want to anymore. 

Why is this so hard? 

I feel so alone. 

I have a supporter and a cheerleader. 

So why can't I call you for help? 

----

im a donor

yup, thats right. i am a breastmilk donor. i havent "actually" gotten to donate to anyone yet. BUTTTT, i got a reply today. having being able to pump a little over 16oz a day ive been able to store some in our deep freezer. never know what the future holds and what could happen. so its best to have some liquid gold as back up. im just gad that im able to help a mama and her baby out. that makes me happy.

Bedtime feedings

More like a bed time smacking. 

That's what this was 

And we'll be back at it in an hour and a half. 

Yayy

But it went okay. 

Still a lot if soreness. 

Still not a perfect latch or even a good one. 

We still got lots of work to do. 

But I'm not gonna give up. 

I want this too much to give up. 

It's harder when you don't have to many supporters. 

I have ppl in my ear just saying "just pump and do the bottle" or

"Just give up" 

My mom breastfed my oldest brother and myself, in Haiti they didn't have any other option but to nurse, so I tried to bring it up and ask her for advice and help but she casually dodges the requests. She doesn't want to talk about it. I need help. But then again my mom isn't an emotional personal personality...

Luckily I have ms Courtney to bug. >.< 

I've seen progress from this morning alone. 

Definitely from yesterday!

Here's to hoping it keeps getting better! 

Pray for us?

Breastfeeding

Breastfeeding. 

What a struggle. 

It's been 3 weeks and it's been so difficult!

My son is 4 weeks old but for his first week of life, he was bottle fed with formula courtesy of the hospital. 

I also had to wear a nipple shield bc where I was so engorged, my nipples sunk in. 

I didn't have inverted nipples, though. 

The week I got home I started seeing a lactation consultant. 

She's awesome and extremely patient with us.

It's been about 3 weeks now and we've cut out formula, bottles, and a nipple shield. 

As I'm writing this out, I am seeing how many mildstones we have over come in those three weeks. 

While going through it, it's been difficult to actually see what we've overcome and how much progress we have made. 

But I'm still not happy. 

It's still difficult. 

We still have bad days. 

We still cry. 

But I'm determined to push through this.

 

No time. No care.

I can't take care of myself. 

There's literally not even time in the day. 

Well

You can't hide who you truly are. 

At least not for long. 

My nights became my days

I never realized how much I needed sleep. 

How much I really needed sleep. 

My body aches for it. 

I can feel my head throbbing from lack of it. 

My legs, unable to support me any more. 

How am I a functioning human being right now. 

Ago I'm which I'm responsible for another human being..

The most needy kind of all, 

My newborn. 

"Sleep when baby sleeps" is kinda impossible.

When baby sleeps I'm wide awake. 

Hence it's 6:03am and baby is asleep but I am not. 

 I've been awake since 4am. 

What id do for a good 8 hours off deep uninterrupted sleep. 

Give me a good sleep session.