Let me tell you readers somethings about my girl. First of all, she was almost miscarried (like her two siblings) on four separate occasions. She was born 2wks late because of the anti-labor drugs I was taking. Her heart stopped twice during labor. She was born via an emergency c-section with two underdeveloped lungs full of fluid. She was not born with temperature sensors like most have, meaning she will turn blue before she knows she's cold and she will be at a near heat stroke before she knows she's too hot. She was not expected to survive her first night. She went home to live in a quarantined environment when she was 7 days old and wasn't supposed to leave her (daily sterilized by bleach) room for the first 3 months of life. But she did. Because he told me I had to go get a job! So I did and he stayed home with our precious angel. He did not lift her from her seat, he changed her there, he fed her there. She received no affection, I'm guessing barely a touch as he sat and played his all important war games.
After about a month of this, she was sent to a pathetic daycare center that stole her special formula, gave her nothing all day, and let her sit in the same diaper and swing until they both leaked!! (former daycare center I might add). It was quickly decided that I was the best person for the job of sahm and I adored my job. I took in other infants and children and gave them the best of my care also. She also went through grueling months of at home physical therapy for lack of muscle control due to having no oxygen during and after birth. The expectations of her walking and talking were very low but she did both before her second year.
My daughter's second year was moving 12hrs away from the ones who loved her (because he said we should), going through testing for autism, living in poverty, living in gang territory and only seeing the outdoors while at the preschool where I was associate director. He was sahd, only without the d part most days. If he wanted to fish, he'd drop her off at my work whether it was prearranged or not. My boss didn't care much for that.
My daughter's third year was living underground in a cold, dark, basement. Her wonderful grandparents were just above and seeing how her mother had been sexually traumatized by a pastor, she spent a lot of time at her grandparents' home while I tried to cope with my husband calling me all sorts of names and accusing me of cheating on him. Also in her third year, her mother was diagnosed with heart failure and she was diagnosed with hearing loss.
My daughter's fourth year is the year that her mother was injured. I cannot imagine what that year must have been like for her. To wake up one day and realize that your mommy doesn't even know you anymore. Thank God she was only four! She brushed it off as "silly Mommy" and went about teaching me everything I had taught her. Together we learned and that is how home school began. She learned everything I was relearning. That year also resulted in us living underground in a basement again, but not before she was traumatized by an attempted kidnapping that to this day she remembers all too clearly. Thank God He protected my baby!
Her fifth year was one of understanding death. She watched her mother's best friend and her "aunty" pass away. She lost her favorite uncle. She lost her other grandmother. She watched her grandfathers suffer through illness and cancer. She waited for her Mommy to come back from the fog she'd gone into. She waited for her daddy to show her affection after years of barely speaking to her, and finally he did. He took her fishing the day before she turned 6 because he'd promised to take her fishing when she was 5 and she called him on it.
Her 6th year was the year that Mommy's strength and partial memory returned. Home school became more hands on and also God healed her hearing entirely!
Her 7th year she learned more about death when she lost her beloved "Paw" from upstairs. The following week she learned a new vocabulary word, "suicide" as a family friend took her life. She moved away from that mold filled basement where she was constantly fighting sickness, into a healthier life style by the lake where she could breathe easy and begin to grow into the beautiful, healthy tween she is today.
In her 8th year she lost her last grandfather after he battled cancer, won,and then died after a car accident. She turned numb to death then. No other death has really fazed her since. She went on to become strong, better able to control her muscles, and very interested in Science and Nature.
Her 9th through 12th years have been moves,lots of sorting, packing, loading the truck, unloading the truck, meeting new friends, saying "good bye" and doing it all over again! Her father hasn't been happy about anywhere we've lived and it has been a constant struggle for her to meet,greet, and leave all in a matter of months over and over again. Aside from homeschool, she lacks any stability in her life.(though I'm working on keeping her in one church)
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