The "A" word...

The kids both had their yearly check-ups today.  I scheduled them back to back so I could take them both in at the same time...NEVER AGAIN!!  Maddie had to get her finger pricked and had a little trouble clotting from the stick.  She was bleeding everywhere and Eli took advantage of my being distracted to take his turn on the elevator.  Anyway, we went through the usual and short list of Eli's achievements.  No surprise to anyone there...or so I thought.  Eli's doctor asked if he and I had ever discussed more serious implications of Eli's condition...specifically his odd behaviors.  I really thought he was leading into telling me he thought Eli had ADHD.  I was ready for that...I thought he would suggest medication, etc.  I was ready to refuse on principle and faith that we can handle Eli's behavior and outbursts.  He didn't say a word about ADHD.  He told me he was concerned Eli was showing signs of Autism Spectrum Disorder.  I am sure my mouth dropped.  We discussed it a little more and his doctor is referring us to a place in Atlanta that can do the official observation and make a diagnosis. 

I am numb.  It has been a long while since I have not been able to feel in a situation that should invoke a strong feeling.  I expected ADHD...and I got Autism.  This was supposed to be a routine visit and I get the shock of a lifetime...words a parent prays they never hear, "I think your son has Autism".  God, when is enough enough.  How much is one little boy supposed to handle?  How much heartbreak is this mother and father going to be given?  I feel so alone.  I feel like God has forgotten about us.  I don't know where to go or what to do.  I just feel alone and forgotten.  I feel that if I cried out to God all I would hear would be an echo.  The sorrow and stress has rained down on our family today.  Give me some peace...give me some hope...

Weeping in worship

Been a while, I know.  I decided to have a "handmade Christmas" this year.  I grossly underestimated how many man hours such a task would require!  My sewing machine has been working as hard as I have.

Some good things have been happening.  I promised a friend I would make a gift for her to give a mutual friend about to have a little boy.  I sat at my sewing machine making a little pair of baby shoes.  I held this small project in my hands and I was overcome.  I was overcome with joy...joy in having this ability to create.  I was so thankful for the way my mind can work out and put together such a project.  I was so grateful to God for giving me a talent.  I know everyone is good at something but I seriously believed that applied to everyone else.  I was set aside...undeserving of a talent or a gift.  I was simply the leftovers.  Like the fabric I throw away after a project...to small a piece to create a thing it is no good to anyone and would just take up space or create a mess. I was the cast aside and I had accepted my fate.  I should not inquire or ask for more from anyone.  Yet there I was...the seamstress!  I was so proud of myself and so thankful to God all in one instant.  I even took a risk by putting my handmade goods online to sell.  A few friends bought what I had made but that still gave me the confidence to say I was "good"...that I was good at something not everyone else can do.  What an amazing feeling...to have the feeling of being touched and woven together with a specific set of qualifications!!  I wept in worship.

Then...there came a hard blow.  My sweet Eli will need another surgery.  His infections has returned and his ears are filled with fluid.  A simple surgery so he won't be phased much at all.  The blow came when I was told we needed to pay his doc $150 and the hospital $500 before the day of the surgery, December 30th.  The total cost for his surgery to us is $1,471.  I think I lost a year of my life when the nurse told me this news.  HOW?  How can we pay this and still feed our children?  Where will the initial $650 ever come from?  To be able to incorporate my faith here would be very calming, but I am a worrier.  I can remember my faith when problems seem smaller.  I asked myself why do I freak out and feel alone and solely responsible when it comes to financial things like this.  I didn't wait long for an answer.  Growing up we were poor.  My mom stressed about the bills and included me in on her worries.  "If we don't get money from somewhere we are going to be on the street next month."  Things like this would haunt me.  To this day my biggest fear is being homeless.  When we come up short I resort to trying to "fix" it.  I scramble and panic...I run away from faith (which in my mind means doing nothing).  I think I incorporate having so little money with being forgotten.  My mother told us God wasn't taking care of us.  God was punishing us, etc when there was no money.  I feel that now.  I feel like I am on my own.  I feel like I am being punished for something.  To have faith in this situation...what in the world does that look like?  To believe God will pay this bill seems so absurd and irresponsible.  I feel like I am on my own.  I am scared.  I am scared to live paycheck to paycheck.  I am afraid I won't be able to feed my children.  I am afraid others think I am bad because we struggle with money.  I don't know how to have faith here.  I want the calm and the peace faith would bring me now.  I need to see a way...I need to know how God will take care of us.  I need to know so that if His way isn't what I want I can complain and find another way.  It sounds so ridiculous when I say that out loud but my fear drives me here.  Eli needs this...that is all that keeps me from picking up the phone and cancelling the surgery.  Love keeps me doing the right thing.  God that is all that I have right now...I love my son and I move forward in giving him the best I can.  Take care of him, take care of me.  Please provide so we are never without a roof and beds to sleep in...

In response...you should know

I thought a little more on my post the other day.  Once I release the words onto this blog screen I am filled with peace...always!  No matter if I write to lament or to question...or to praise.  God asked me more than a year ago to just write.  I didn't know His voice then or that He moves me in desire that way...but God was the one who named this blog.  God was the one who made me look down at my sweet Madeline and just pour out!  Some of you have written me or even called me to say thank you or voice the own cry of your hearts...a cry that this blog put into words.  Ladies, thank you.  I don't always know who is "listening" and when you respond, in agreement or not, I am affirmed...no matter what is said.  I have even been blessed enough to have my writing compared to David's...what a treasured blessing.  One that allows my ego to float up to heaven and thank God again for the healing in me...the healing I can feel, that I can see, that I can believe.

In response to what I wrote the other day.  I am afraid I left some people thinking I didn't believe in God's power.  I thank those who let me know and allow me to clarify now.  I know these blogs are my thoughts and they are not always fact...as in this is one side of "the story".  I think of it this way...there are billions of us.  I believe God fashioned each millimeter of each of the billions.  I believe God is mighty...He is so mighty that my meager words could never contain what God has done, what He is doing, and what He will do.  Why would I ever want to or try to contain God.  I believe in miracles.  Two of them have come from my own body.  With their first kicks inside of me and their first cries of life I have been in awe of the treasures we receive in this life.  I just cannot imagine the life I will live in Eternity if my life on earth can be this...FULL.  I believe God can move mountains.  I believe that if God felt Mount Kilimanjaro belonged in my backyard He could pick it up and place it here...I believe.  God obviously feels otherwise.  I believe God can sew up the gaping wounds of every woman I see in pain.  He'd thread the needle of ultimate healing and He would tenderly sew up those wounds and they would hurt no more.  I believe He does that for some people...He does.  Praise the Sewers Hand!  I believe He leads others on a different path.  Make no mistake, I have BEGGED, PLEADED, and BARGAINED with God to sew up my wounds so that I would bleed no more.  I wanted healing and I wanted to see HIS face.  I wanted to see God when I begged Him to show me Himself.  God did not sew up my wounds at once.  I bleed still.  Why?  Why would God not answer me when I was so so so ready to receive?  He tells me now, "Ashley, my sweet, you did not know me."  I didn't know Him.  I had been saved, no doubt about that, but I still had lies in my head.  My mother had to stop beating my body when people started to notice.  It was at that time she would beat my soul.  She told me God would "get me".  She told me God hated me...she told me God thought I was lazy.  She told me that if she found something I had done wrong it was because God had told her...I would then be slapped, kicked, spit on, ridiculed, etc...because God had told on me.  Is that God?  Is that the kind of Father I am meant to worship...to serve?  NO, ladies, that was not God.  God never laid a wrathful hand on me.  God never beat me.  That was my mother...my clinically insane mother.  Her hand broke my skin and made me bleed.  Her words cut my soul.  She blamed God so she could sleep at night.  All I had ever been told of God was lies.  Lies I had no other choice but to believe.  Why would I WANT to believe my mother could hate me so much...it was easier to believe someone I could not see was the one destroying me.  I thought there might be hope...that my mother might love me.  She did not!  God was crucified so that I might live.  God took the blame because He knew that if I knew the truth, that my mother hated me, that I might be lost.  Isn't that love?  God takes on all the burden knowing in the end He wins the prize...and to think the prize was me.  I have wrestled with God...I have screamed at Him...I have turned away...I have questioned...and I have believed the lies.  Ladies, God was never fed up.  God never let an inch between us.  He wants the prize!  He prepares my home in Heaven..."this is my Ashley's place".  God's love leaps over the stains our earthly lives leave.  I think of the strangers I pass at the store...God prepares their homes.  He cleans it out and calls it their own.  God can do all that but is never distracted from me.  We cannot understand why some things happen.  We cannot understand why some of us take longer and some of us heal sooner.  It is the journey that MAKES GOD REAL TO EACH ONE!!!  I don't want your journey...I want God.  Tell me it is taking too long and you tell me I am not good enough...you put more truth to the lies my mother told me than to the love of God you preach.  "Love me like Jesus"!  We all fall short of what God wanted us to always be.  We all make mistakes and yet we can all come back.  It takes just as much of God's patience to let us keep coming back as it does for me to walk at my pace so that He becomes my TRUTH.  I am worth it...you are worth it.  Don't steal her value because you cannot contain patience.  None of us can ever save an other's soul...we don't have what it takes...and that is okay! 

I fell in love!

I hope that I can wrap my head around all the thoughts swimming in my head. 

My sister called me last night in a panic!  It seems my mother was sitting outside Rebecca's workplace...just sitting in the car.  I asked Becca why she was so afraid.  I told her that mom couldn't do anything to her!  Rebecca replied, "But she can threaten!".  I stopped myself from discounting this as a legitimate fear.  To Rebecca, that is total and complete fear.  How did my mother control her...well all of us...FEAR!  How did she keep us quiet?  FEAR!  How did she get us to do any ridiculous thing?  FEAR!!  Fear was my mother's weapon and the last and lasting strong hold!  It can seem so silly to someone on the other side of this healing journey and especially to someone never beaten with fear.  For those of us who have experienced it (and care to recall), fear is so very real.  So real you could almost touch it!  It is usually irrational but not to the one who cannot understand and dissect her fear.  It is her way of life.  Her fear may have kept her safe in her childhood home...fear keeps us on our toes, it makes us ready for the beating, it alerts us to the mood our abuser may be in, it keeps us out of harms way if even once.  Fear is a skill any abused child NEEDS to survive.  When we leave our childhood home, the fear skill isn't as much of a need but how can we dump something that is indeed a part of our person?  You wouldn't ask an adult to forget what 2+2 is, would you?  No!  We are drilled in math skills until they become second nature...the abused child is drilled in fear and cannot easily lose this skill as it has served her so well.

I find myself wishing Rebecca would just LISTEN TO ME!!!  I feel this in frustration over having to have patience with her.  I know many people in my life have felt this over me.  My in-laws come screaming to mind.  Our relationship just is what it is.  They don't live in my body and in my past and I don't live in theirs.  Expecting them to "get it" is unreal and just evokes pain on both sides.  The same goes for them.  There is peace in a long journey.  You wouldn't expect an 8 year old to have the knowledge and skills of a 12 year old...that is absurd!  It takes time to mature, it takes time to learn, it takes time to grow.  God gives us childhood as a sort of shelter...a shelter to mature, learn, and grow and fail and succeed in these things along the way.  He expects children to be loved and protected...hugged and kissed by two loving parents.  Well, for a large number of people that never happens.  In childhood we are broken...raped...beaten...violated...hated!  In our small bodies we lack the capacity to contain these things and we react in many ways...all those reactions steal us away from peace...even if we comply to keep the "peace" we still never get to be a CHILD!  I believe that some people CAN just get over it...although these people puzzle me, who am I to say their recovery isn't genuine?  I don't know how God works in you.  Then there are those of us that need time.  Just like the child needs years an years to be labeled "mature" and "of age", I need time to tear apart my past and fill the holes with GOD!  I believe my personality (my tendencies to be analytical, obsessive, and thorough) plays a part in the length of this journey.  God did indeed create me this way and therefore, He is prepared to be patient with me.  God makes me fall in love with Him on this long path.  When I relive being molested, for example, each time it loses more and more fear...God finds me there.  GOD FINDS ME...who are you to think or say I should have arrived sooner?  I could certainly skip over all the ugly and painful parts...but they would find me again.  God finds me where I am which means I am exactly where I am supposed to be and when!  Who could ever convince me otherwise?  As with Rebecca...when has she ever had someone to call when she is afraid?  How thrilled do you think God was when she reached out instead of hiding in her fear.  A VICTORY!!!  God knows one day she will reach for Him...she will fall in love with Him along this path.  God never crams love into us so that we are forced to worship in "love".  That isn't real and God has no use for robots.  God wants us to make a choice to love Him.  Some can make a choice to "get over it" and that is a love response to God.  I chose to process and that is my love response to God.  He doesn't hold another's love any higher than mine...God IS NOT abusive.  God's patience makes me love Him in a most peaceful way! 

...At your feet

I drained every second out of the snooze button this morning.  I couldn't seem to wake up.  I splashed cold water on my face...a few times.  I got dressed and prepared to walk across the hall into a battle to get my son dressed.  After he finally surrendered I crammed my children into a borrowed car.  Don't get me wrong, I am thankful fro good friends to loan us a working car...I just want things back to normal.  We bought an SUV for a reason!!!  I am too OCD to have things so askew for so long!  I dragged my son into his class kicking and screaming.  Drove home and walked into my messy house...I was just so tired.  I fed Maddie and finally sat down.  I looked out my living room window and I couldn't help but wish I was looking out from somewhere in Pennsylvania.  I get so very homesick this time of year.  I just want to be home!  I truly want healing in my family.  I want the perfect "Quinn family Christmas".  I want my kids to be safe near my mother.  I want what was taken from me.  I want my mother to suck it up...admit what she did...heal...and put things back together!!!  I don't want to feel loneliness surrounded by people anymore.

I spoke to my sister, Rebecca, yesterday.  I hung up the phone feeling about 30 pounds heavier with the weight of worry over decisions she is making.  I felt sorrow and so out of control.  I can see clearly the dangerous path she has chosen...and there in nothing I can do to stop her.  She is compromising and turning away.  Life, I know, could be a lot worse.  I know that worry can blind me from the blessings I have.  Sometimes I would just like a break...I want a life that is totally and completely carefree...a life where bills pay themselves, where I always feel at home, bank accounts don't bounce, cars always start, dirt and clutter just float away, exhaustion is a fairytale, children are always obedient and they have 2 sets of grandparents....scars disappear and people recognize and embrace true love when it is offered...well I guess that would be Heaven, huh? 

So it was just me and my sweet Madeline at home together this morning.  I know how I usually behave when I am that tired.  I just couldn't stand the thought of overreacting or yelling at her...her crying and my adding guilt to my day.  I remembered the Casting Crowns song "At Your Feet":

Here at Your feet, I lay my past down
My wanderings, all my mistakes down
And I am free


Here at Your feet, I lay this day down
Not in my strength, but in Yours I’ve found
All I need, You’re all I need

Jesus, Jesus, at Your feet
Oh, to dwell and never leave
Jesus, Jesus, at Your feet
There is nowhere else for me
There is nowhere else for me

Here at Your feet, I lay my future down
All of my dreams, I give to You now
And I find peace, I find peace
Here at Your feet, I lay my life down
For You my King, You’re all I want now
And my soul sings…

‘Cause I am free (here at Your feet)
All I need (is at Your feet)
I find peace
We’re at Your feet
We’re at Your feet

And I am free (here at Your feet)
All I need (is at Your feet)
I find peace
We’re at Your feet
We’re at Your feet
We’re at Your feet
We’re at Your feet

Here at Your feet
I lay my life down

I can't pray yet...but I know I get closer the more real God becomes to me.  My heart cries out for the people around me and for my family.  God just hears me in words I cannot speak.  He reciprocates with Peace.  My past will never be forgotten...my body will always carry scars.  I will make more mistakes...I will have to make more apologies to my children and my husband when I don't control my anger.  My future is unknown and I HATE that...I like to have control.  I know where I WANT to be but God says "No" for now.  It is impossible for me, in my sinful nature, to never turn away from the feet of God.  I'd love to say that it is possible but lets get real!  But I believe it is the place God wants me...where He likes to see me.  He welcomes me back each and every time.  When I turn my back on my worries, my past, my stress, my obsessions I am at Jesus' feet...soon life interrupts me...but I was there and my energy was renewed by that Peace...peace when everything was still especially my mind...peace where it is quiet and my heart flutters because Jesus has my attention.  My kitchen is still dirty, my address is still the same, my car still won't work, my family is still a mess, and there are bills that won't go away but I face them one day at a time...in peace!

So...I totally freaked out!!

I am writing today in total frustration...for no one but myself.  I thought I was farther...or closer to an "end".  I found out, over the last few days, that that is not the truth.  I had been doing so well and then the ball dropped.  Thursday was the one of the worst days I have had in a long while.  Madeline woke up several times in the night so I could barely drag myself out of bed at 7am to get Eli ready for school.  After I dropped him off we came back to the house for breakfast during which Maddie threw a fit and yogurt went flying.  I threw a load of clothes in the wash, cleaned her mess and vacuumed the floor.  I remembered Eli had "missed" the toilet that morning just like the morning before...and the morning before that.  I clean the whole bathroom!!  I tried sitting down and playing with Madeline but her crying made it impossible to enjoy.  I put her down for a nap.  She was awake an hour later with a poopy diaper.  I changed her...tried to play again...the screaming was worse than before.  I decided it would do us both good if I put her back in bed.  It came time to go pick up Eli.  On the way home from school I noticed the engine lights coming on and off in my car.  When Evan got home he tried to turn the car on....nothing happened.  The car was dead...in our driveway!  Evan suggested we leave the house if only for our sanity.  We put the car seats in my brother-in-laws car (the car has out of date car tags!!!) and went inside to get the kids shoes.  I sat on Eli's bed and looked up to see a shocked look on my husband's face.  He was staring at the giant hole in the window next to the bed!  INCREDIBLE!!!  Within 20 minutes our car breaks down and we find a broken window in the house.  I was about to lose it.  Later, we came to a conclusion that our planned vacation to Disney World was a little irresponsible.  Less than a month ago we had to have a new drainage field dug in our backyard after the toilets were overflowing and the sinks wouldn't drain.  That set us back a great deal.  That was it!  I just shut down.  I got quiet and wouldn't/couldn't eat.  I think I got more aggressive as the night wore on.  I get loud when I feel that "depressed"...I just cried.  I couldn't even figure out what I was really crying about.  I went off to bed at 9:30 last night....but I just laid there, worrying.  This morning began just like yesterday.  Feeling exhausted and having to clean something that would only need cleaning again tomorrow.  My patience was non-existent with Madeline.  When she whined I felt a tightness in my chest.  Thankfully she was ready for her nap soon after breakfast.  I thought it best to put her down early...if only to save her from her own mother.

Now I feel like a fool.  I overreacted to a situation that could happen to anyone.  I feel like the world was ending...well at least in the same dramatic sense...and I still have my health, and my kids.  My husband still has a job and there is food in my fridge.  Why does my world still fall apart?  I thought I was farther than this!  I thought I was more mature!  I don't even feel I am safe enough to be around my kids.  I can't keep telling myself, "They won't remember this.".  It isn't the truth and that is an abusive mother's favorite lie!!!  

Numb is good

I know I have mentioned on and off for about a year now (BTW Happy Anniversary to "In a Tutu"!!!!) my troubles with my husbands family, particularly my mother in law.  For those of you who are new to the blog let me give a brief history to catch you up.  My husbands parents are Missionaries to Brasil.  My husband grew up in Brasil.  His parents are only home in the States for small chunks at a time.  His mother, Diane, actually attended the first few meetings of "Wounded Heart" with me.  She was there as support and has not experienced abuse of any kind in her past.  I can easily say I wouldn't have ever attended the first meeting if she hadn't gone with me.  Diane was the one who led me to the Lord October 18, 2005.  She flew home from Brasil when I had to go to Pennsylvania to testify against my mother in court.  I was pregnant for the third time and the family feared I would have a third miscarriage because of the stress.  She has come home to help Evan and I after the births of both of our children.  My second child, Madeline (in the tutu) is named for her grandmother, Madeline Diane.  I can't really tell you when we started to drift apart.  I know their being so far away certainly doesn't help me...someone who needs to "see" you love me.  It has to be something deeper than that but I can't put my finger on it.  Anyway, last May we had sort of a falling out.  I confided something in her and asked her not to share it with Evan's sister.  It had something to do with the sister so Diane told her anyway.  I found out and I think the bottom of my world just fell apart.  The secret she shared was really insignificant but it was the fact that she told.  I wondered had I been lying to myself all the years before when I felt Evan's sister and I were equal.  Here Diane had chosen her over me and that must be the truth.  A few months later I tried to tell Diane how hurt I had been by what she had done.  I was also scared to death that she had shared my past with Evan's sister.  I didn't feel anyone else in the family needed to know.  When I tried to bring up what had happened Diane wouldn't hear me.  There were other things going on between us (she felt I wasn't 'getting it' like I should) and we needed to deal with those things.  We dealt with them and decided to take our relationship in a new direction.  She would just be grandma and I would no longer share my "process" with her as she had lost patience.  It was better than it sounds.  Over the next 6 months I received several reports from other family members that dealt with people discussing my son's lack of speech and Evan and I not doing anything about it.  This, of course, was not truth.  In stead of Evan and I addressing the rumors we kept silent.  In February we learned our son, then three years old, had a hearing problem which explained his lack of speech.  Evan and I felt an enormous amount of guilt over Eli's hearing problem that had gone undetected.  Eli had a surgery and we discovered he had permanent hearing loss but thankfully not severe enough for him to need any hearing aids.  We still had not shared this with most of Evan's family.  The thought of sharing Eli with them made me go into convulsions almost.  It felt as if we would dangle him in front of danger and not protect him as we should.  The rumors continued but it was just not a priority.  Our son's needs were more important.  Dealing with a family drama would have distracted me.  I would have tried to measure up to "how my mother-in-law would handle this" and not be 100% for my child.  After things settled down with Eli, Evan and I often discussed when to tell the family.  I was VERY reluctant and scared.  I often wept over the thought of anyone thinking my son was "stupid".  I finally told Evan that they would not here this information from me.  He would have to decide when to tell them.  My husband is not a great communicator so they never did find out which was fine by me.  We told a few family members over the last few months.  If someone asked about Eli we shared.  No one had asked us and assumptions were just made.  I had to speak with Evan's Aunt (Diane's sister) about our investments ans she asked about Eli's school.  I was so fed up with the rumors and my being suspicious that I spilled it out.  She got a little defensive and said she was only asking how he was doing.  I apologized but seeing that she was a small part of the rumor mill I am not too sure I meant it.  I knew all during the conversation that if I was telling her I had to be ready for EVERYONE to find out.  During the conversation I told her that I knew I overreacted to some things and that seemed to be all she could commend me for admitting to her.  Overall it was a good conversation.  I know I can never make my in-laws understand what it is like to be me and live inside my body and think with my "damaged" brain.  As frustrating as that is I remember that there are many of you who "get it" and can validate me!  The next day I was chatting (the typing kind of talking!!)with my mother-in-law about their bills and she asked how Eli liked his school.  I talked about Eli a little bit and about my new responsibilities there.  She told me she and my father-in-law were proud of my embracing motherhood so well.  I thanked her and told her after a long year it was nice to hear something like that (of course knowingly opening up the lines of communication).  She asked what had happened in the last year...here we go.  I told her I didn't want to cross our boundary into the "personal" stuff.  She asked me if it was something I could sum up.  I said:

 "I think (after the ugliness between us last May-July) I learned to give myself time to grieve, time to process...just time.  I wasn't on any ones time schedule for how long this "process" should take. I think, between the both of us, we were expecting there to be an end or for me to "get it'...right?  I have been through some horrific things and some of the worst has just recently been remembered. Expecting myself to live like someone who has never lived like me is so so so so so stupid and discouraging. There is no possible way I could think like you or dad or whomever. I just can't do it.  That isn't a bad thing. I actually think it is a good thing. There are a lot of people like me. People still stuck on the "other side". They need someone who thinks like they do to show them the way. You couldn't do that but I can. (That isn't meant to hurt you...sorry).  I will never be able to forget the things my parents did to me...they will never be erased...they are a part of who I was and still a part of who I am...and that is okay.  Cindy had me take a personality test...WOW did that open my eyes. There are a lot of things in me that have been critiqued over these last few years, by me and you too, that are not damage but actually parts of the person God created me to be. Of course the damage has made some of those things a little "intensified" and I have to deal with that...but I am more comfortable in my flaws because I know where I am strong too."

She then thanked me for sharing and said, "The one thing I truly want is to be in this position of not being responsible for what you're going through.  But, when you want to share something, I want to listen and sympathize as someone who loves and cares about you, but not as Cindy. I didn't know how to get out of that role with you."  I didn't really know what to say to her here.  I just told her about the women I have in my life who can understand and just "get it" and how that has literally rehabilitated me.  I told her that I feel things deeply and when I would share those things her she didn't react the way I "needed"...it just held me back from a lot of growth. That wasn't any one's fault...just a clash in personality, I think.  Also that I think there will always be a trigger there between the both of us. I don't know (still) how to fit into a family like the Warden's but there is the expectation there because it has been "so long".

She then asked me the strangest question, "Do I remind you of your mother at all"?  I thought dear God is that another sin I will have to deal with...making this women feel like the same woman who wanted and tried to break every bone in my body???  I told her NO and asked if she was kidding! But she inquired further, "But are there things I say or attitudes I have that remind you of her? I don't want to be that kind of person, but I'm not sure that some of my strong personality could possibly intimidate you...".  I paused a while.  I knew it had been hard to get this far in the conversation.  I didn't want to have to cross that same "bridge" again any time soon so I might as well spill it all out now!  i replied, "What hurt the most was when I expressed feelings whatever they might be (sorrow, frustration, etc.) over things of the past that you must have thought had already been dealt with and you reciprocated in frustration was like you saying "Just get over it." Granted, you and I deal with things in different ways but I now know that I needed to feel those things for however long it took."  There was one more thing that needed to be discussed.  I didn't want to ever go there with her...but I didn't want to have to repeat this conversation either.  I brought her back to last year when she had told Evan's sister something I had asked her not to and the time I had come to her asking for the truth. 

"When I kept asking you last year if you had told Angie something I had specifically asked you not too...you got annoyed (am I right) and gave me a broad answer and didn't want to discuss it anymore...do you even remember that? (she remembered)  I am not bringing up the specific thing event...that is done...but it was what was communicated to me by the exchange we had when I tried to let you know that it hurt me that you would do that and essentially choose one daughter over another.  If you had felt I should not have asked you not to share with Angie it would have been better you had said that to me and ended it there.  What I learned from that was that when I felt hurt by you that I was wrong. It must have been my fault or my damage that made me feel hurt and that it wasn't right to tell anyone...it must be my fault somehow.  That lead into the whole MESS with what Grandma said about Eli...I kept my mouth shut because I had "learned" it was not safe to feel hurt. That I could not possibly be the hurt one...I was wrong and you all were right.  I really felt like I had lost my mother all over again."

She apologized but added, "and I can be honest when I say, that's something I can't understand totally, Ashley. Not that I can't see it...but that it didn't hit me like that..." I told her that I know it didn't. I really didn't understand what it had meant to me until a few months ago. I know she and I don't "speak" the same language and I don't expect that from her anymore.  (or I try not to)  She said that she didn't understand that my pulling back and not wanting to share was feeling hurt and not rejecting them as a family.  DING, DING, DING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I added that I could see how it would have been a lot easier if I were able to figure out what I was feeling and why back them but I was not as mature as I am now. And Evan, in his love for me and his desire to allow me to feel/be a good mother, let me process all of this with patience. Evan has a unique ability to speak your language and mine! Love that man!  That brought us to the most sensitive subject, Eli!  I admitted the more I was told what people were saying about Eli and us as his parents the deeper the wound got. It felt so so so unsafe to share him with all of the family. That is my sweet sweet baby and they felt unsafe.  She said, "You know, I've always had problems with my mouth and probably more so with my writing...but, I don't want you to feel unsafe with me/us. If I'd thought about that (duh!) last year when that stuff happened, I would've handled it differently....I would like to think!"  Then she asked for forgiveness.  I told her that her being open minded and willing to listen allows me to forgive her.  I felt it safe to round myself out and make a bold statement:

"I think a good rule to remember is that I am not Angie. She likes to share everything and why would she not! She is a Warden by birth and there is nothing wrong with how she communicates. The problem comes when I am expected to behave like her or the same rules apply to me. I think this goes with any in-law...even Bere! I need time. I have learned enough about myself as a woman, a wife, and a mother that for me to be the best I can in all of my roles is to process whatever comes and be where I need to be. When things sunk in I am ready to share. I need to have a handle on my emotions and what God might be trying to teach me before I pass it around the family."

She replied:

"I appreciate that, Ashley. And, I agree that my relationship with Angie is different than ours, because she's got the 'warden' gene...and even my relationship with Bere (my other sister-in-law), is very different, because she is super timid about opening up and that's fine! If you remember at the beginning of our relationship (you and me) I really had a hard time with not wanting to step over the boundary between us...and then when I did and it was helpful (I would like to think it was..) I didn't know how to back up and cross over the boundary when I didn't need to 'be' in your life all the time."

I told her that I have learned as a mother, it is hard to know when it is best to let them go because each one is different. I told her that I respected her relationship with Angie but that it was rough for me last year because I had to FORCE myself to believe she hadn't told the secrets in my past with Angie even though she had shared that other stuff with her...that accompanied with mourning our relationship.

So the scoop with Eli was out.  She was glad and said they have been concerned for him and not knowing has been very hard on them and of course, knowing that we were also suffering with this without their support.  I told her,

"I know it must have been hard. We are sorry it had to go the way it did.  We just couldn't figure out another way that wouldn't take our minds off of what Eli needed. He needed a lot from us, me esp, and my mind just goes crazy when there is open tension in the family. It was the only way to give Eli all of his mommy!  Also, We were grieving a lot. The last thing we needed were people making suggestions as to his diagnosis, etc. BOTH Evan and I were on the verge. We found a group of parents and professionals that would be honest and empathetic.  I know you all were hurt by this and I know I can speak for Evan, we are sorry. I can say it wasn't done to be painful to anyone. There were so so so many nights we just wept over that little boy...we learned to count more on each other too."

She mentioned their upcoming six months to be spent here in the states.  I decided it was a good time to ask her if they had been avoiding spending time with us during their last two vacations.  She said they had been avoiding us because of the tension and because she is not a confronter.  I told her we could take some responsibility for the tension (without taking responsibility for how they behaved)  I just told her feelings get hurt and the word favoritism has come into play. We know that isn't the truth but you know how your feelings can lie to you.  She said how hurt they had been feeling but certainly never wanted that to affect people the way it had.  I understood her hurt feelings...without feeling too much guilt.

Our conversation ended with my telling her that we just need there to be an understanding...and really a trust...that what we discuss with them stays right there...even if you they don't think we will find out they "told"...it always seems to come back to me and just opens the wound again. We have had a lot of trust lost in the last year...

Well, there you have it.  Here we are all exposed.  I expected to feel...I don't know, I thought I'd feel really good.  Turns out my "exposing" myself is really no fun.  I kind of feel numb...because now I have to trust them again.  I HATE HAVING TO TRUST PEOPLE!!!!  It sucks!  It sucks because I can't control those people!  Wouldn't it be so nice if I could control their brains and make them say and do whatever I needed so that I could always feel safe and validated.  I know that wouldn't be best....but it would sure be nice...like a little vacation from the drama!!!