I wanted to blog about Nick instead of just how I am doing or whatever is going on with me that day.
***This is much longer than I thought it was going to be.. so get a cup of coffee/tea/whatever and relax.***
Being our first born, he was a huge teacher. The moment I found out that I was pregnant with him, he began to teach me... well actually he began to teach me before I even KNEW I was pregnant. See, Tracy and I were not yet married when we found out that I was pregnant with Nick. It was 2 weeks before our planned wedding date. Tracy came over to my apartment and was very upset. He had had a dream the night before that I was pregnant. "Please tell me you are taking your birth control pills and that you can't be pregnant."
Sheepishly I looked at him. I had not been taking my birth control pills. I wasn't planing or trying to get pregnant. Actually that was the last thing I wanted. Yet, I continued to have sex as though I WAS taking my pills. I didn't take my pills because I would always forget to take them and then I had forgotten to take them so many times in a row, I had forgotten where I was with them. I HATE to take pills, even the little tiny ones in birth control form. I know you must think I was crazy and immature; which, at 19, I am positive was part of the issue. But the other issue was that a few years before, when my father found out I was sexually active, he told me that I would NEVER be able to have children. He told me the Satthoff women were cursed and could NEVER have babies. Now any rational adult, would say, "Well, if that is the case, how the hell did the Saathoff name continue?" But as a young, impressionable girl/woman, I took this as scientific fact. Never mind the fact that my dad was supposedly Christian and didn't believe in such things as curses.
Anyway, believing that I, as a Saathoff woman, was cursed and unable to have the precious children that I so wanted, I didn't think twice about not taking my pills. After all, I wasn't going to get pregnant, so what's the problem?
I explained this to Tracy, but he insisted that I take a pregnancy test. And honestly, as memory recalls, I believe I was late with my period too. Either that, or I had a feeling I was pregnant too. Either way, I made an appointment with a doctor immediately. Sure enough, I was pregnant.
Now Tracy and I had big plans. I was working full time already, but we had plans to get him through college. A baby was NOT part of this plan. I felt like I had ruined Tracy's life with my silly belief that I had been cursed and unable to get pregnant. I felt like I had ruined his life by not communicating with him and letting him know what I had done. I tried my hardest to call off the wedding. I didn't want him saddled with a baby. I wanted him to go to college, graduate and do something with his life. I didn't want me or a baby to get in his way. He even had other well-meaning family members offer him a full ride to any college of his choice if he would just not marry me and get saddled with a baby. He would have none of that. He loved me and this was his baby and nothing was going to change his mind. Nick was already teaching me about unconditional love and about what real family was suppose to look like. He was teaching me about sacrifices.
Then came the break down. Just before I had gotten pregnant, realizations of my childhood abuse had started to hit me. I had already had some pretty violent outbursts. I didn't know it THEN, but these outbursts (which were not characteristic of me) were part of my Dissociative Identity Disorder (what used to be called, multiple personalities). I remembered the abuse, I would check out, and start hitting the walls and screaming in outrage. Tracy would stand between me and the walls so that I would not get hurt. I was reeling with this information. I was spiraling out of control. And then I find out that I was pregnant. This wrecked me. How the hell was I going to be a good mom? I had been abused. What I knew about a child of abuse: They would then become abusers as well. That is NOT what I wanted for my child. I knew in that moment that I had to break the cycle of abuse. It had to stop with me.
Through the years, there are many lessons that Nick facilitated. His birth facilitated an understanding that not every birth and every woman is the same. Just because your Mom can pop out babies like they are nothing, does not mean that you are going to. The story of Nick's birth is a completely different blog post.. actually, I posted it a while back for his birthday I believe. So I won't post it again. But I am so grateful for the 27 hours of pain it took for that boy to come into this world!
Nick was a fun kid to have around. Tracy and I were just babies ourselves. I was 19 about to turn 20 and Tracy was 20. But we were babies. We were broke but had our whole lives ahead of us. We had goals and we were going to make sure we reached them. Which included living with our parents for several years in order to get Tracy through college. That process started with us moving to Arkansas with his family for a few months while Tracy worked in a wallpaper job in order to raise enough money for us to move to Florida to live with my parents. For 3 months, we lived in a 2 bedroom apartment with Tracy's Mom, Dad, Brother, "Aunt Henry", and Bud and sometimes "Uncle Betty". If you are keeping count, that was sometimes 9 people in a 2 bedroom 1 bath apartment! Tracy and I had our own room, and Nick slept on a pallet made on the floor in the little tiny space between the bed and the wall. Everyone went off to work, while I stayed home with Nick. There was 1 working TV station. No radio. No phones. More than half the time, I had no car. And I had no friends. It was just me, and a crying baby. It was my job to care for Nick and make dinner for everyone. Dinner had to be made by the time people got home from work. I didn't even know how to cook! It was one of the most painful times in my life. I was lonely and scared. I spent my days taking lots of pictures of my growing baby. I would rock him and sing to him, but I didn't know any songs. I wished I had learned some lullabies. But I knew 2 songs... Amazing Grace and Silent Night. Silent Night became the song Nick fell asleep too. Over and over again, if Nick cried, I sang him that song. He would snuggle up with his blankey in my arms or on my shoulder, I would rock him and sing Silent Night to him and off to slumber land he would go. He was so freakin' sweet. For YEARS after that, anytime Nick would hear Silent Night played or sung during a holiday season, he would fall asleep or get very calm and sleepy. (I am so very grateful that I made it a whole Christmas this year without once hearing that song! That is the BIGGEST reason I avoided all Christmas movies and music this past holiday season.)
Anyway, as Nick got older and we lived in Florida, we took him everywhere. We used to take him canoeing. We would put a life jacket on his little tiny body and put him on the floor of the canoe while we paddled through the swamps. Sometimes, my mom would come with us, and Mom would hold him while I canoed. Nick started surfing at 1 year old with his Daddy and our best friends Jimmy and Joey. Nick would lay on the nose of the surfboard and Tracy would paddle out with him and catch the wave while lying kind of on top of Nick to keep him on the board until Nick was comfortable enough with the process. Then Tracy would stand up on the board, and Nick would lay down on his belly on the nose and they would ride the wave in together. Eventually, Nick learned to stand on his own and the guys would push the board and Nick would ride it in on his own. He loved the ocean. He loved surfing with his Dad and his buddies!
Nick used to go to all the college parties with us. (Yes, we were stellar parents.) Tracy was going to college and working at an internship at Harris. We hung out with people our age and a bit older. None of them had children. So these were your typical Mid 20's early 30's parties. There was a party where all the guys (and me..cause I was just one of the guys) was in the hot tub and for some reason, the guys took their swim suits off. And we told Nick to get all the swim suits and throw them in the attached pool. It was winter time and it was cold out. Nick gladly obliged. People always thought we were nuts and kids didn't belong at the parties. And they probably didn't. But Nick was just one of us.
When we had Nate, Nick was 3 years old. Nick's favorite show was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Nick thought that since he had a little brother, his baby brother would play with him. So he saw NOTHING wrong with playing TMNT with his brother and threw his baby brother across the room. *laugh* Nick wasn't allowed to watch TMNT ever again! Even as an adult, I wasn't real certain he should watch that show! *laugh*
Nick was an amazing big brother. He was babysitting by the time he was 10. He would watch his little brother when we went out. When we had Naomi, he learned to change diapers quickly and was babysitting both the kids and letting us go out on occasion. When Nate caught the trash can on fire, Nick put it out. Of course, Nick and Nate had their fights. I guess they were pretty brutal (they never happened when I was around). But Nick loved his brother, even when Nate was killing Nick on the BMX track or at skiing (and later snowboarding).
Nick was always learning something. He may not have been very sports oriented (no matter how much we tried with baseball or soccer). He enjoyed learning. At the age of 12 he decided he wanted to learn about Wicca. He was raised in a Seventh Day Adventist Church, but we had started attending the Unity Church. He had watched me go to college and open my mind to new possibilities, and now his mind was opening as well. So Tracy and I studied a bit about Wicca and then Tracy and Nick went down that path together. It was pretty cool too watch. Nick LOVED it, and I loved watching him grow. But without Nick, we would have never taken the opportunity to learn about Wicca. He facilitated a more open heart and open mind.
There are so many stories I could tell about Nick, but the whole point of this blog was to talk about how much he helped me grow as a human being and what he taught me. But more importantly, there is one specific memory I have of him that most people just do not know about.
Like I said before, I was abused as a kid and I ended up with DID. But the real DID didn't come out until 6 months after Naomi was born. They say that when a girl is sexually molested as a kid, many times they repress the memory and the memories don't come back until after they have had children (and at the time, I was told usually after they have had a baby girl.) My sexual abuse memories started coming back after Nick was born. I didn't know what it was back then. But my sex drive took a major dump after he was born. As it turns out, my body was having body memories long before my brain was having memories. My marriage struggled a crazy amount because in my young 20's I had the sex drive of someone in their 50's it seemed. Finally after Nate was born, I talked to my doctor. He told me it was all in my head. Helpful, eh? Then Naomi was born and 6 months later, the real memories came flooding back. I won't go into the memories. Instead I will say that I went from a 30 year old woman to a 5 year old little girl who did nothing but hold herself in a fetal position rock and cry. Poor Tracy had no idea what to do, but he had to continue traveling for work.
We sat Nick down and explained to him what was going on. Nick was 12 years old by this time. At 12 years old, Nick had to be told of the horrible abuse I had endured. He had to be told that at 12 years old, he had to watch out for his mom and his little siblings. Mom could at any time turn into a 5 year old little girl, and he would need to make sure she (and his younger siblings) were safe. Then later, a few other personalities came into play. Including a very angry 15 year old. Nick was amazing. He knew how to talk to these personalities. He knew how to handle them. He knew the symptoms of me switching. He knew how to take care of his brother and sister to make sure they were safe when I was melting down and Tracy was traveling.
All of this did not come without a price for Nick though. I believe this is where Nick learned his temper. It was too much for a 12 year old to be responsible for. He watched his mom get very VERY angry. We used to joke about my temper. I would turn into this raging monster that would stomp around the house and grow crazy teeth and green skin and crazy hair. That is how we pictured this crazy angry mom mode. I would get so freaking angry. I never once raised a hand to my children. I never once put objects before my children (okay once.. and I felt like shit. No $20 pair of candle sconces is worth what I put Nick through when he was in grade school and broke them while he and his friend were playing). I never hurt my children the way I had been hurt. But I did manage to pass on my raging, volatile anger to Nick (and yes, sometimes Nate). I wish with all of my heart that I had not passed that on to them, but Nick always told me it was not me that it started with. He said it started with the bullies in 5th grade. *shrug*
Anyway, Nick had alot on his plate as a kid, and he taught me so much about myself as a human being and as a mom. I will always be grateful for the times when he had to watch out for me in my darkest moments and for the way that he loved and protected his younger siblings during this time. I will always be proud of his strength and compassion. And I will always be grateful for the time, as an adult, he told me how proud he was of me. He told me he was grateful that I broke the cycle of abuse. He told me he was proud of me for healing from all that I went through. He told me I was a great mom. How could I not be? I had a great teacher!
Today, I am grateful for amazing memories of Nick.
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