Day 15 - Something or someone you couldn't live without because you've tried to live without it - 30 days of truth

I could easily site this blog as the thing I just can't quit. I've tried a few times to quit, but I always come back. I've made lots of changes and implemented my own new policies along the way, but I always come back. Blogging is a learn as you go thing. At least for me it is. Regardless, I'm not quitting anytime soon.

Really though, what I REALLY can't live without - what I know I can't live without because I've tried so many many many times to quit - is Diet Coke.

How pathetic is that?

Here you go. From the now defunct Deep South Moms Blog, from back in April 2009, is my letter to Diet Coke. I think it was my first syndicated post. Meh. Who cares? It makes me chuckle a little.

**********************************************


Dear Diet Coke,

I don't know what it is about you. I have quit smoking without the aid of gums or patches. I have quit drinking cold turkey when we think there might be a second line appearing on a pregnancy test. I can stick to a diet when I need to drop a few pounds. It wouldn't be unfathomable to call me a woman with self control.

But you, sweet elixir of life, I just can't quit you.

Sixteen weeks into this pregnancy and I still can't seem pass up on a giant, ice cold, frothy fountain Diet Coke. Even though I stopped buying cases of you to keep in my fridge at home, I find myself looking for excuses to get out of the house and hit the nearest drive thru.

Nothing else can take your place. Your inbred cousin, Diet Coke with Splenda, just doesn't cut it. I took him out for a tango when I was pregnant with my first child. I just wasn't satisfied. A real Coke is so full of sugar that my teeth feel like they are wearing sweaters after the third sip. A cup of coffee will curb the desire for caffeine, but it doesn't bring me that effervescent joy that you do.

I have long proclaimed that there is something more addictive about you than in any other soft drink. I knew long before I evern dreamed of being pregnant that you were my one vice. Every thing else could come and go, but you never would loosen your grip on me.

Damn you, Diet Coke. I blame you and your spurious sweetness that bubbles up, taunting me from the McDonald's down the street. You are so bad for me, and yet oh so good.

Sincerely,
An unabashed addict

Reaching In

I don't know how to explain it, this grief that has permeated every thought this week. It's not like I knew her. We are fellow bloggers in the SVMoms group. Twitter friends. Internet acquaintances.

But the grief is real for her and her husband and everyone who did know Maddie. Everyone whose life she touched, and that includes mine.

The thing is, it didn't matter how well we knew her, how long we knew her, or if we knew her in real life or not. Maddie's eyes, her smile, warmed our hearts even as they brightened our screen. Her passing is beyond tragic.

There begins the cycle. I mourn for Maddie, and then I think about the unimaginable pain her parents feel, and I mourn for them. I know that I wouldn't be able to handle it.

Then this morning, the first email I read is one with the news that Shana lost her baby boy, Thalon yesterday. I'm so tempted to close down my computer and not come back for a week because I just can't bear the sadness. My stomach feels like a bowling ball has taken up residence, and my head hurts from holding back the tears.

But I won't shut down. Because whatever I feel, is only a tiny tiny fraction of the agony that Heather and Shana must feel right now and forever more. Being here, leaving comments, donating, praying, and supporting however I can is what I have to offer these two families whose pain is felt across the world by people who have never even met them.

This community - we feel what we feel deeply. We, if I may boldly say, shoulder some of the pain when another of us hurts. Every time I have lost a pregnancy, an unborn baby, the community has come together and woven a blanket of support to warm me. We helped carry Susan through a horrific battle with cancer. We do these things for each other as fellow mothers, writers, Twitters, bloggers, and friends.

So when Heather or Shana need a break from holding up the weight of their grief, I hope they know that there are thousands of hands, reaching in to hold it up for them for as long as they need us to.

Triangle area March for Maddie

Donate to Shana's family

Madeline Alice Spohr

Love and support is needed. Donations can be made to the March of Dimes via the button on Heather's page.

Be sure to stop by Maddie's page and learn more about the little girl who will be so missed.

Edited to add: Their blog is down right now, but you can donate in Maddie's memory directly by this link.

Before I was a mother

Christopher had his six month well baby check yesterday. He weighs 18 pounds, 13 ounces and is 28 inches long. He is a healthy happy baby.

I wrote about our visit on Deep South Moms.

"How do I read this again?"

The nurse at our pediatrician's office had turned away from the scale where my naked son lay to ask someone at the desk behind her how to figure out his weight. It wasn't a fancy scale. Just a normal move the weights into balance scale.

I flinched a little at her ignorance.

You can read the rest of the story here.