The Monica Edwards Weblog

Shabbat Shalom

Happy Sabbath everyone! Today was a full day for me as I put off doing any type of housework all week because I was channeling a sponge sitting atop a couch. I think we used every last plate, bowl, spoon, fork, and any other receptacle that could be used as a bowl, in this house. It took me over an hour to do all the dishes. I thought about just throwing everything away and buying all new. We had a friend who actually did that while he was a college student. Always had new dishes. I’m not saying much for my ability to maintain a clean house but I can cook. Does that make up for it?

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A Question for the Presidential Candidates

I am not, in the least, a person one would describe as politically active or knowledgeable in any way. I try not to be naive about what is going on in our government or our world for that matter but I don’t take pride in the fact that I am not as versed in the world of politics as it pertains to me, as I should or would like to be. That is why I am surprised to find myself so impassioned to write about a subject I never questioned or realized was so defunct.

My husband and I were able to view the documentary by Michael Moore entitled Sicko before it was released in theaters, via the internet. So I have had a few weeks to let the movie’s message brew and I have been able to ascertain how this low-budget documentary could transform our failing healthcare system now that the average American has access to the facts. It is up to each one of us to elect the man or woman who can focus their attention on a system of healthcare that is in such dire straits that even receiving basic care is a joke. It is a poor representation of a nation that calls itself a Superpower.

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Struggling to Find My Roots

I am having a diffficult time finding out who I really am. There is a part of me that I have been missing for so long and it has been a burden on my heart to know where I came from, to have a true identity, especially since the passing of my father-in-law and with my mother (step-mother) also facing the ongoing battle with cancer. I need to know maybe because it has me questioning my own mortality at times. Who was my mother and what kind of inherited traits did I recieve from her? Do I have a high risk for cancer? Do I have diabetes on her side of the family? Am I prone to depression because of something she passed on to me? I need these answers as I have children who need to know.

On the emotional spectrum, I want to have a sense of belonging.  I feel sometimes that I am floating through this world, not really having a purpose because I have no hard evidence that I even exist. It’s hard to explain but I know that once I am able to accomplish the seemingly impossible task of getting a copy of my birth certificate with my mother’s name on it, showing that I was actually born to her, I will have some closure. I will have in my hands the thing that will help to define me.

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Missing My Boys on the East Coast

Andru and Alijah left for New York Tuesday morning, and I feel like they have been gone an eternity already. This is the longest stretch of time that I will be away from Alijah since he was in the hospital for 11 weeks after he was born 2 1/2 years ago. I don’t know if I can take the withdrawal.

After the harrowing trip all alone with a two year old that has discovered the independence of his own two legs since the last time we flew, they finally made it to their destination after the most awful trip in recorded history. There were moments I imagined that their plane had gone down, or that they were sitting in the airport, disheveled and too tired to move. Andru emailed from the plane that the flight would be delayed for take-off for an hour because of inclement weather in N.Y. but that they could choose to get off the plane as long as they took all their belongings with them. Do these airline pilots not have kids? What are they thinking? After lugging an awkwardly huge carseat, a laptop bag, and a diaper bag, as well as trying to keep a hold of a 2 year old that just wants his freedom, the last thing a parent wants to do is try and maneuver all of that mess off the plane just to turn around 15 minutes later (because it took 45 minutes just to get off the plane) to get back on the dang thing again. My poor boys, they had only the snacks I had packed for Alijah- a granola bar, raisins, grapes, and a pudding cup to keep sustained.

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Finding Hope and Healing After Heartache

Dear Family and close friends,

Please do not continue to read if you are sensitive to the details of our loss --

I am writing this to let you all know, about something that Andru and I have experienced these last few days, and I guess in some ways, still experiencing. Also, maybe it is a way for me to self-heal. We have not contacted anyone I think because we are still trying to get a grasp on how we feel about things, and also because I don’t think I can say the same thing over to so many people. So I hope that you will all understand why we chose to write about it rather than talking about it face to face or on the phone.

I will start from the beginning:

Andru and I found out that we were pregnant about a month and half ago. To our surprise-- I was pregnant. As you all know, it was recommended, by the last Dr. that treated me after Alijah’s birth, that we do not have any more children due to my history of preeclampsia and with Alijah, HELLP syndrome. So, in knowing this, we did not plan to have any more children. We were cautious and took the steps to prevent from becoming pregnant again, (i.e. contraception) but as we all know, contraceptives are not 100% foolproof. I somehow found myself in the 8-10% bracket of women who become pregnant while using contraceptives.

So, when I took my first test, I doubted the results, I took another one, positive again. Not knowing how it could be possible, and still doubting, I took a third test. Still positive. Andru says the first words out of my mouth after the first one was “Great” (sarcastic tone).

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