Dad Gone Mad

Last week, I went to Danny Evans' book signing here in Escondido. It was pretty deceiving, since we walked into the large bookstore and explored the entire store without finding Dad Gone Mad or anything that remotely looked like there was an event going on somewhere in the vicinity. In fact, we almost left, my friend making fun of me for driving such a long way on the wrong night, or driving to the wrong location. Then, I asked an employee to help me figure it all out once I had the Dad Gone Mad appearance listing open on my iPhone...

We found Danny tucked away in a little corner of the bookstore, where he was answering questions and reading from his book, Rage Against the Meshugenah. Perhaps his use of the word testicles or dropping the "F" bomb is what kept them from putting him on display right in front, but I was ever-so-pleased to have found him and the small, yet intimate group of readers there to meet him.

Danny spoke quietly so I walked to the front row in order to hear him as he read the laugh-out-loud scenes from his book that covered his conversation with his mom about priaprism and about his experience with his psychiatrist who fondled his shirt upon first meeting him.

I started reading his book the very next day at the beach. I couldn't put it down (I blame him and his compelling story for my sunburn) and I found myself both laughing and crying along with Danny as he shared his very personal account of being laid off (been there), dealing with depression (been there too), experiencing a miscarriage (been there as well) and dealing with his feelings of inadequacy as a new parent (yep, been there once again).

Despite the fact that this book is a humorous look at serious topics, the most touching and poignant passages from Danny's writing were the pages where he discussed his unconditional love for his wife, Sharon, who stood by him through his darkest times. He describes the way they embrace and how, mostly because of their relationship, and her faith in him, that he is able to survive his depression and come out on the other side, more aware, more enlightened and better able to enjoy his role as husband, dad and son to his parents.

"I'm more than a foot taller than Sharon...When we're hugging over something happy, she stands on a chair so she can squeeze my neck and I can kiss hers. When I'm feeling romantic (or reasonable variations thereof), I walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her shoulders. When we're making up after an argument, Sharon sits on the couch, I get on my knees in front of her, and I dive in to bury my face in her neck."

"If my life could be measured with the same kind of line graph economists use to measure stock performance on Wall Street, there would be a huge spike at the moment I kissed Sharon's soft, sweet lips for the first time."

Danny writes from the heart. He writes with passion and full disclosure as he sorts through the emotions and experiences of truly finding himself after reaching the deep end. Readers will travel with him on this journey as he explores the depths of his despair and reaches new heights with his recovery and through the eyes of his children.

"The sight of two caring, special human beings - that I helped to create - displaying kindness and love to one another (without being asked) shattered the mold of what I thought I was, what I thought a Man was. Just as the case was with the onset of my depression a few years earlier, the feeling I had at that moment was unlike anything I'd encountered before. And just like depression, that vision rocked me to the core and forced me to take stock of what was happening around me. The one obvious difference between these two moments was that the former left me awash in numbness and confusion. The latter flooded me with a sense that perhaps my life was just beginning..."

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

For those of us who have lost a child, having something to remember him or her by is the key to moving on. I came across a website devoted to bereavement photography for infants and stillborn babies which I think is a lovely testament to the ways in which our loved ones live on in our hearts and memories.

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep is a non-profit organization providing resources and volunteer photographers to provide lasting images for parents who have experienced the loss of a child. For families overcome by grief and pain, the idea of photographing their baby may not immediately occur to them. Offering gentle and beautiful photography services in a compassionate and sensitive manner is the heart of this organization. The soft, gentle heirloom photographs of these beautiful babies are an important part of the healing process. They allow families to honor and cherish their babies, and share the spirits of their lives.

With her two daughters looking on,
Jennifer Clark holds her son Connor soon after he was born.
He died the same day. (Photo by Miyo Strong)

Each year nearly 3.3 million babies are stillborn, and more than 4 million others die within 28 days of coming into the world. [World Health Organization] With advanced medical technology, it is a parents expectation that those born unto us will out live us. When a baby dies, it is outside the natural order of life and families are left devastated and forever changed.

Every living being instinctually knows how to grieve. It is learning how to heal, that some need help with. Offering gentle and beautiful photography services in a compassionate and sensitive manner is the heart of the Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep Foundation.

Remembrance Photography is a very important step in this healing process. Photographs are one of the most precious and tangible mementos that a parent can have, showing the love and bond that was given and shared with their baby. These portraits will last for generations, and will honor and remember a tiny life that is forever loved and cherished.

When I experienced a miscarriage - just about ten years ago - I knew that in order to heal, I needed something physical to hold onto, something to allow me to never forget. My tattoo is something that I see on a daily basis, when I look in the mirror or when I'm in the shower. It's there with me, everwhere I go, just as my unborn daughter is and I welcome questions from people wondering about the meaning behind my body art.

I am smiling now, thinking of my first pregnancy and how confident I was, thinking that I was prepared to be a mother at the age of 22. Little did I know that the world had something else in mind for me. Things fell into place as they were meant to and I am now a mother of an amazing little boy who energizes me, inspires me and fills me with pride.

Knowing that organizations such as Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep exist puts me in awe of the many people who have made it happen. Although I know the pain and suffering the loss of a child brings, I hope that sharing this resource will provide someone with a way to move forward without the fear of forgetting about the past.

Losing a Child

The recent death of John Travolta and Kelly Preston's son has left many parents stepping back and taking time to slow down and enjoy each and every minute we have with our child. Life is too precious to not hold on to the memories we create and to appreciate the time we have on this planet.

The death of a child is not something that parents want to think about, but where does one turn if this sudden loss should occur?

Compassionate Friends is a worldwide organization established to help support those who have lost a child. Founded in 1972, this non-profit group provides community forums, resources and events to bring together families looking for ways to honor their child and keep the memories alive.

Those who have lost a child to SIDS, stillbirth or experienced miscarriage can also find comfort and compassion through the members of this group.

Knowing that you're not alone is one of the biggest strengths during the time of tragedy. Visit the website for details on local chapters, the annual Walk to Remember and the International Gathering.

Stop by their Ways to Give page to learn about how you can donate to Compassionate Friends.

Tattooed Moms

I got my first tattoo when I was in high school. My best friend pulled out some Indian ink and a safety pin to permanently mark me up as I lay on the bathroom floor at her mother's house. It's hidden below my bikini line so not many people get a chance to see it.

Years - and several more tattoos - later, she's still my best friend (she's getting married in a few weeks) but the tattoo I'm most proud of is the one that lies on my chest. LaSara Firefox has a tattoo on hers as well and when I mentioned this coincidence, she asked about mine.

LaSara's tattoo

People comment or ask me about this particular tattoo all the time (when it's not covered up by clothing) and I enjoy sharing the story behind it.

Permanent reminders are often painful and this one is no exception. While the process of getting the tattoo was not painful, it does bring up a past experience that was and has brought me to the place I am today.

I found out that I was pregnant (unexpectedly) during my Senior year of college. I was dating a guy one year younger than me and I was working part-time and attending school full-time to try and finish my college career in exactly four years.

While the news of my pregnancy was not something that I was truly ready to embrace, I decided, after several sleepless nights and many emotionally-charged debates with my then-boyfriend, to keep the baby. As pro-choice as I am and have always been, not having the baby was never the choice for me.

I grew fond of the idea of being a mother very quickly, almost instantly. In a matter of weeks, I was a proud, pregnant woman who was ready to graduate from college and embark on the amazing journey of motherhood. My boyfriend would be joining me on the adventure.

Family, friends, classmates, and professors were made aware of the pregnancy and of my plans to get my degree and raise my child with the father. I was ecstatic and ready and yet so unprepared for what was to come.

I experienced a miscarriage in the third month which is not unusual at all. Everyone knows that the first twelve weeks are the most critical and my announcement very early on in the pregnancy only led to greater heartache when it was time to share my loss with everyone who was still getting around to congratulate us.

Without realizing it at the time, that was the beginning of a great state of depression for me. I ended up running away - or at least trying to - by moving across the country to San Diego (after dropping out of school).

I started my life over in a new place where no one knew me or my story but I still longed for a way to keep the memory of this experience with me as a reminder of the change and evolution that pregnancy brought about within me.

My then-boyfriend and I had been creating a tattoo together in honor of our unborn child. With the design in hand, I marched into a tattoo parlor on the date she would've been due (October 18, 1999) and sat down to have the symbol permanently placed on my chest, the place where my hand always went whenever I talked about the pregnancy and miscarriage, or thought about my unborn child.

I think about how old she would be now. I think about what type of relationship I would have with her. I wonder if she knows how much she means to me.

She is very real to me and when I see other nine-year-old girls, I struggle to picture a face that I will never be able to see.

My life started over that day, the day I had the symbolic tattoo placed next to my heart. I began a new life then, a fresh start on the adventure that has led me here: I'm Mom to a nearly five-year-old boy. I have a wonderful career, great friends and enjoy single life in San Diego and I truly believe that everything happens for a reason.

I've always loved the quote that states, "That which does not kill us only makes us stronger," and I know that I am a much better parent for having grown and evolved from the person I was before that first pregnancy.

Living without regrets is my ultimate goal in this life. Every moment moves us forward on this great journey that has been mapped out for us.

My son and I, 2004

I am still friends with the father of my unborn child. We share pictures of our children and exchange stories and I know from the sparkle in his eye when he talks about his role as a father and husband, that our daughter was put in our life for a reason. She has taught us to let go, enabled us to evolve and inspire us to love without expecting anything in return.

And yes, when you see me talk about my tattoo, you will see that same sparkle in my eye and perhaps a tear or two that fall, not in mourning for a child who will never age, but for the hope that she will never be forgotten.

It Takes a Village

I am not the first one in my circle to have a baby (OK, my son is technically not a baby - he turns 4 at the end of the month), but I am the first among us - that I'm aware of - to become a Certified Parent Educator.

In no way does that mean that I am certified to actually be a parent. Anyone can do that. That's the easy part: creating a child, bringing him or her into the world. The challenge comes afterwards and the more verbal and active the little beings become, the bigger the challenge.

One of my best girlfriends contacted me recently for some helpful words of wisdom. You see, with my son (and high-conflict divorce) I've pretty much dealt with every possible parenting issue under the sun. The fact that my sister (whose son is 18 months younger than mine) and my friend who is ten years older than me (give or take) come to me with questions regarding their little ones and the ages and stages that they're in gives me strength and encouragement that I hope I am able to reflect back to them.

That I've been there, done that, proves nothing except for the fact that we all - as parents - must go through the same things, exactly the same things. Whether our kids hit, bite, talk back, or repeat something we've said, our children will still continue look to us for advice, guidance and for our unconditional love and support.

Now, I can't speak for all parents, but I know that there are certainly days when I feel exhausted, overwhelmed, and wonder how on earth I could possibly survive another day with the energetic bundle of bones that is jumping on me, screaming and crying loud enough to wake the neighbors (and still somehow manage to make me smile through it all).

Those are the days - and nights - when I wonder how I will possibly get to work (and function) on little or no sleep. Then there are the times when I wish I could play hooky, when I wish I could just sit up all night and watch my little guy sleep (and listen to what he says while he's dreaming).

Having a child is the most rewarding, life-altering and life-enhancing experience. I only have one (so far) and while there are those who struggle to bring a baby into this world, and those who simply choose not to even try, I must admit that having a child was not my choice.

What I mean is that, for a brief period of time, I thought I would never have kids. Then I got pregnant, unexpectedly, in college, and lost the baby just a few months later. I lost more than my unborn child that day and it took me a long time - years, in fact - to finally come to the realization that life does what it will with us.

I ended up moving to San Diego after the miscarriage, meeting my son's father, getting married, and creating our beautiful child together before moving on and separating our lives and dividing our time.

I could dwell on the negative aspects of all of this, like the fact that my son cries himself to sleep quite often, always missing the other parent, but instead, I choose to look at the positive things that my son is getting from this experience of moving back and forth between two worlds.

He is loved. He is challenged. He is learning to adjust, learning to live under different sets of rules, habits and climates. He is growing to love each of us for our strengths and despite our weaknesses. Our ability to apologize (profusely) and ask for forgiveness enables our son to see the ups and downs of life, the best and worst of people.

Life leads us in many different directions. Some may seem predictable, some come to us as a complete surprise. Parenthood is like that too. We should all be so lucky. And we should all be lucky to have friends and family to turn to - for advice, a shoulder to cry on, or to brag about our little one's achievements.

I feel honored that my girlfriends come to me for any number of these things. I love sharing the horror stories of parenthood with them - along with the mommy moments that make us proud. I am proud of all the Mommies in my life - especially my own - for teaching me to be a better parent.

Long-Distance Relationships

I went to Vegas in March of this year to celebrate several life-changing events with some close friends. Although I've seen them separately on different occasions, the five of us girls had not all been together for about ten years.

Times had changed for us, drastically. Four of the five of us had become mothers in that time, three of us had gotten married, two of us were separated from our husbands and one of us was, and still is, childless and never been married (she's also the smartest out of all of us).

We all went in different directions over the last decade and are now spread across the map. One of us went off and joined the Navy and bounced from WV to NC, MT, GA and ended up in Costa Rica (of all places). Two of the five of us graduated from college. One went on to graduate school and is now employed in a profession that she loves.

And then, there's me. I had a miscarriage, dropped out of college, moved to San Diego, bought my first car (used), got married, landed an awesome job, had my amazing son, bought my first new vehicle, and suddenly found myself adjusting to life as a single, working mom as my husband filed for divorce and moved out, in that order.

I went to Vegas again in June with some girlfriends from San Diego. The one thing I never expected out of this quick weekend get-away was to meet someone who I would end up having a relationship with three months later who lives in a different state, a different time zone, on different schedules.

Technology has allowed for long-distance relationships to be possible since we are able to text, phone and email from just about anywhere. In this day and age when people are jumping into marriage and just as quickly trying to jump out, it only makes sense to distance yourself from those you care so deeply about.

As I mentioned already, my family and friends are scattered across the map. While I have connections here in San Diego, most of my loved ones are living in MN, WI, MT, TX, Costa Rica, NH, MD, CO, WV, FL, GA, Northern Ireland, and Northern California.

While I do love to travel, I don't enjoy missing the people I care about, but with work and the daily routine that makes the days whiz by, it's no wonder that we are able to enjoy the time we do have together, 100%. After all, it's quality, not quantity that matters when it comes to relationships and that's the secret most people don't discover until, perhaps, the second-time around.

I have, and will not ever, forget all of the people who have helped me get to where I am now - a place in my life where I finally feel comfortable and balanced, satisfied and proud of where my life is headed and sexier than I've ever felt before.

Oh, and just in case I forgot to mention it, the March trip to Vegas celebrated several thirtieth birthdays, the birth of our children, the loss of our unborn, marriages, divorces and most importantly, the love of friends and family (they're one in the same).

And if it's another ten years until we are all together again, I know that it'll be the laughter that we will remember as we share the secrets we have learned from another decade of growing stronger and wiser.