Speak Up and Stand Up

​I seen this on a friend’s Facebook and strongly felt it needed reposting. So many people are scared and victimized right now. 

OK white people. It’s now our responsibility to speak up and, if necessary, fight for the people who are marginalized, scapegoated, demonized, victimized. We MUST NOT become complacent because our privilege is intact. When you see racism, misogyny, xenophobia, ablism, homophobia, transphobia, don’t let it go. We have to be vigilant and protect the rights of our neighbors when they are threatened. 
If you are – 
A woman

A person of color

An immigrant

A Muslim

A Native American

Disabled

LGBTQ

I will speak up for you. I will not allow othering of you. I will work for justice for you. This is my responsibility as a person of privilege.

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Connection With Cruzier

My relationship and connection with my son Cruzier has been a rough one from the beginning. When I got pregnant with him, I was 18 and my daughter Ju-Ju Bean was almost one years old. I honestly had no clue that I was pregnant until I was three months along. Now, that may seem a little impossible to some but since I had had my daughter things had been a bit hard and I was very stressed out and I had just gotten on a new birth control shot that you get every three months. I wasn’t taking proper care of myself and was always focused on my daughter first and then my boyfriend, her father. I didn’t take the time to dress up, make makeup on, or relax. It was always about my daughter and how to fix things with my boyfriend so we could be a family. We were on and off again, with a lot of drama. As parents we should have had our lives more stable and figured out but we were young and in love with a lot of issues we both had with our own pasts. Part of the time since I had my daughter we were living with his mom, my mom, and then my daughter and I moved in with my birthmom and stepdad when we broke up. While my daughter and I were living with my birthmom, randomly I had started feeling like something was moving in my belly. I told my birthmom and we both thought it might be gas. Well it was about time for me to get my next birth control shot so I made an appointment to get it. And well, surprise surprise, I’m pregnant. Three months along to be exact. That thing I felt moving in my belly that I thought was gas? That was a baby. My baby. 

My boyfriend and I didn’t agree on what we were going to do. Both of us wanted the baby but we had to be real and face the facts a bit. We had already been struggling so much financially with our daughter since I had her. Both of us had a lot of issues we needed to work on by ourselves and overcome in order to be the parent and person we needed to be for our daughter and for ourselves. We both couldn’t completely see how we could bring another child into the mix of everything. I wanted to keep the baby though. I couldn’t possibly see myself aborting my baby and I couldn’t see someone else raising my child. The whole pregnancy, I was told we had to give the baby up for adoption. That put a huge emotional and mental block on me. I wanted to keep this baby. I know we had had a rough time with providing for my daughter but this baby was mine and brought to me for a reason. But I knew we probably couldn’t keep the baby. When the baby would kick, hiccup, or move I would try to focus on something else instead of getting attached and all excited. To be honest, I was already starting to get a little attached by then but still was trying to block it all out. 

Fast foward to when I was about 8 or a little more months along. It was obviously getting closer to when the baby was due. We were still arguing about giving the baby up for adoption and couldn’t agree. I didn’t want to give up my baby and I knew I couldn’t do it. I wanted whatever we do be both of our choices since it was our baby and I wanted us to be a family with our littles. I knew it would be hard but I also knew we would find a way to provide for our family and give our littles the best we could. Our families wanted us to give up the baby for adoption also. That was very hard to hear. But I kind of understood. They wanted the best for us and our littles and what was best in their eyes was not two young parents that kind of really rushed into things without really getting to know each other, couldn’t afford a child or even themselves, and weren’t stable yet. I totally get that. It was not the perfect situation and to be honest, I a little secretly agreed and thought we really should have waited. But things happen and they happen for a reason. I knew we should have waited and things should have been different. I should have been able to hold a steady job, waited to have sex and/or used protection, and focused more on my future with graduating and college. 

Deep down in my heart I knew I couldn’t give up my baby and live with myself for doing that. So I was secretly starting to get a little bit of stuff ready for the baby. But then things started kind of getting a little more real. I seen my mom struggle as a single mom growing up. Living paycheck to paycheck, being low on food, and struggling to pay bills. Not be around as often because of always having to work just to meet the bills. I thought it wasn’t going to last with my boyfriend. We were constantly on and off again and arguing. Both of us still needed to grow up ourselves. So my mom and I decided to meet with an adoption agency. We got the profiles of some of the potential families and I found one family I really liked. The wife was a teacher and the husband was a firefighter. They would be able to provide for my baby and give it everything it needed and wanted. So we needed to meet with the adoption agency again and also my boyfriend to get his concent to move forward with the adoption. But then he changed his mind. He didn’t want to give the baby up. He wanted to keep it. So for almost 9 months now, I’ve made sure I haven’t completely made a connection or attachment with my baby in my belly because I wasn’t sure if we could keep it or not and was told we couldn’t. And now all the sudden, about two weeks before my due date, when I am now in preterm labor, we are keeping the baby. 

Once I had my son, it was instantly hard for me. He didn’t feel like my baby. Yes, I know I just gave birth to him and pushed his tiny body out of my body but when I held him, it felt like he was someone else’s. When he cried after they gave him back to me when I was all stiched back up and in the recovery room, I looked around the room to try and find the parents. Of course, there wasn’t any parents there to take him because he was mine. But it didn’t feel like it. 

I tried to be a good mom to him, I really did. With my daughter, I used to laugh all the time with her, dance around with her, and read her books. We would giggle together, lay together watching tv, and play on the floor with all her toys. With my son, I didn’t do much of that with him. I would still make sure he was fed, changed, and he would get the sleep he needed. But I never held him just because. Or read him books. Or cuddled with him. He still didn’t feel like mine. I would play with Ju-Ju Bean when I wasn’t working and Cruzier would obviously be with us sitting in my lap or laying on his play mat or in his bouncer so he would be there when I was playing with her and he would smile and laugh at us. But my attention wasn’t really on him. It was on my daughter. I had a connection with her since she had been in my belly and had a very strong attachment to her. It just wasn’t the same. 

When my son was 9 months old we moved again but this time it was just us three. Their father and I had had stuff happen between us and I decided to move away with my littles to the town my three older sisters were living. My son all the sudden got very colicky. I would always make sure he was fed, changed, and got the sleep he needed. I would try to hold him, cuddle him, and play with him. I actually really tried. It didn’t help. He would still cry and cry and cry. The only time he wouldn’t cry was when he was eating or sleeping. We’d go to the doctors all the time because I thought there was something wrong. He wouldn’t stop crying. That’s when they told me that he was colicky and some things to try and help which some of them did start to. I was getting better with him but still felt like he wasn’t my son. I started to feel like something was wrong with me. After going to the doctor’s for a regular appointment for myself with my littles, my doctor noticed the way I was with my son and started talking to me about postpartum depression. She believed I had it and after her explaining it to me, I knew I did. She got me some help which I am very grateful for. I started getting more of a bond with my son and doing way better with him. 

Fast foward to now: my son Cruzier is now almost 8 years old and I am 27 years young. Now for the past about 4-5 years, most things have been stable. We are in a stable home, I have gotten a lot of help for myself and littles, and we are in a good place in life. I am holding down a steady job that I love. Their father and I have worked things out and are dating. He is living with us again permanently. Both of our littles are in therapy still to help them through anything and everything. I am still in therapy. We are going to church every Sunday, youth group on Thursdays, and a Bible Life Group for me on Wednesdays. Things are going very good. Cruzier and I have really gotten our bond back and a connection. We have an attachment and he is always my son. He’s my main little man in my life. Although he’s always going to be my little baby in my eyes, he has grown so much into such a amazing intelligent strong young man. I love him with all my heart. I may have not been the best mom that I needed to be for him until I got some help from my doctor, but I always wanted him and loved hin very much. Love you Cruzier. 

Cruzier a few weeks old

Look at that cute face!

Cutie Putie

Super hero to the rescue!

Best picture ever

Love

Reintroduction

Hi there! Now, I know I’ve been on and off of here for a while now and you may or may not have been here reading my blog in the beginning so I thought I’d reintroduce myself and my family. 

My name is Lorena and I’m 27 years young. For work, I am a Certified Nursing Assistant. It’s something I absolutely love doing. I have a huge confusing family with lots of sisters, brothers, and parents. Plus, I have two Littles. When I talk about them on here, I call them by their nicknames that we picked out to protect their privacy. My daughter is Ju-Ju Bean and my son is Cruzier. They are my life.  

Ju-Ju Bean is 9 years old now and a fourth grader. She is creative, giving, and loving. Every day, she tries to go out of her way to help out others in whatever way possible. She amazes me all the time.

Cruzier is 7 years old, almost 8. Every day is a new adventure with him. He knows how to put a smile on anyone’s face and make them laugh even if they are having a bad day. You need cheering up? You can count on him always to help turn your frown upside down.  

I try to write about the ups & downs, adventures, and messy parts of our crazy busy life whenever possible. I hope you stay with us and enjoy the ride. 

Safety Patrol

My daughter joined the safety patrol team this year at her school. This has been a huge step for her. For a long time she has been scared of a lot of things and very attached to me. So when she told her father and I that she would like to join safety patrol, I secretly wanted to jump up for joy and we both agreed she could, as long as she continued with good grades and doing good at home. She has started to be independent and have a lot of confidence since she has started. I’m so amazed and proud of her. I can’t wait to see what other activities she wants to do and where this helps lead her. 

Life Group 2016

My Littles and I have just started going back to church. I have never wanted to force religion on them because for one, I have never been very religious myself and had my doubts about God and also because I wanted it my Littles own choice if they wanted to learn and believe in God. But they had started asking about God, Heaven, and such and to be honest, I didn’t have really any of the answers for them and they wanted to start going back to church so we started going to Truth Seekers (a youth group program) and church on Sundays. One night when I was sitting there at church waiting for them to get done with Truth Seekers, I had walked around the front desk area of the church and noticed these sign up sheets for Life Groups. I had never really knew what they were or what they were about so I asked. Life Groups are small groups within the larger church family and provide believers of fhe church with a place to seek God during the week with other Christ followers through prayer and the studying of the Scripture. A couple or a person hosts a bible study in their home for six weeks for anyone in the church to go to. I was interested but doubtful on if I would learn anything and nervous about what to expect but I figured, what’s to lose? That night my friend and I signed up together for one and it’s been the best experience for me in every way. 
There are a total of 12 of us that attend one of the groups, which include four sets of married couples. We have met once a week since September at one of the couples’ homes. At our first meet, I was extremely nervous coming but came with my friend. Her and I turned out to be the youngest of everyone in our group. That was intimating at first for me because everyone else was older, wiser, and seemed to have their whole life all together already. See, I was going into this Life Group because I felt like I needed some direction, a purpose, and guidance in my life and about God. My life has been a bit crazy, dysfunctional, and all over the place for a long long time. There has always been moving around to different places, people moving in and out of my life, and not very much guidance or structure exactly. The past I think five years have been a bit better though since my Littles and I live in our own home that we rent and can actually call home which has helped tremendously. We’ve came a long way together and so have I on my own but there’s always felt like something still missing deep down. I’ve tried to fill this void with so many things: love, lust, friends, etc. Nothing ever seems to help. I’ve always felt kind of lost and like I didn’t know what I was doing or why I was put in this world. At our Life Group first meet, it was eye opening to me in many ways. Firstly was the way everyone was with each other. Everyone welcomed each other with open arms. All the people there talked to each other with respect and seemed to care about each and every single person, even if it was their first time actually meeting each other. Everyone in our Life Group is very Godly. That sounds weird for me to say because I’ve never really heard the expression before but it fits. All the people believe, live their lives through Him, and are so inspiring to me. The married couples talked to each other with such respect and were so loving to each other in the way they did everything with each other. I had never met anyone that was there except my friend before hand and still, everyone welcomed me with open arms. I actually felt like I belonged somewhere. The first meet, I didn’t talk or interact as much but I more observed everyone and everything. The next meet, I had a very strong urge to open up and share my story a little bit during our discussion. And I did, with surprisingly not much hesitation. Normally I am pretty quiet for a while when I just meet someone and am in a new place but I honestly felt so welcome and like I truly belonged finally. I opened up about struggling to believe for the longest time because of thinking that there must not be really a God because there is so much pain and hurt throughout the world: Why would He let children get molested? How could He just let a lot of children and adults get abused? How can He just let all this happen when he is supposed to protect us and love us? I was very surprised when everyone there at Life Group talked me through all the answers and have taken the time to teach me and help me learn about God and the Bible. No one judged me, belittled me, or made fun of me. They all took me under their wings and have helped me tremendously. I now feel like I have a connection with God, believe, and feel like I belong somewhere. I’m so thankful for having joined and meeting everyone I did. It haa really changed my life. 

Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween! Well, happy late Halloween now. You know, I meant to post this on actual Halloween but it was such a good day that I got caught up with everything. Usually I am not into the holidays as much around this time of year because of my depression but this one was pretty good. My Littles had a blast and so did I. Little #1 was Wonder Woman and Little #2 was a ninja. We were able to go trick or treating with my sister and her family, as well as with mom. It got dark and cold pretty early but all the kids were able to go to a decent amount of houses. A church in a town close to us always does a Fall Festival with bounce houses, games, and music all free and indoors that we went to. It was so much fun! 

How was your Halloween? I hope it was a blast!