The reason I wanted to start a blog was for my own personal therapy. Sometimes as a mother you feel quite alone, especially when you feel like throwing toys through walls and screaming at the top of your lungs for your children to behave. We have all been there but rarely talk about it. I have a facebook account and I always read these happy go lucky and positive comments - almost like a "Leave It to Beaver" kind of world and it really bothers me. Why do moms not speak the truth? When asked how we are doing by a stranger or the store clerk as we are rushing to purchase medicine or diapers for our little ones, we answer, "I'm great" or "I'm fine." - when we really want to lay back and put our feet up on a couch and say, "I'm tired" or "The kids are driving me crazy" or "this mom gig sucks sometimes"....but no...we say FINE. I am about to change all that and speak the truth about what being a mom is all about - the joys, the sorrows, the hardship, the triumphs and crazy and hilarious things that happen every day - but are so worth it.
I grew up as the youngest of four children with the second youngest being 7 years older than me. You can basically say that I was an only child. By the time my brother and two sisters were in college, my life was just starting to take off.
As in the title you can pretty much guess which sport was and still is my passion and a big part of my life...softball. Since the time I was 6 years old, once I picked up the ball, I was hooked. Instead of being the kid chewing gum and eating licorice at her brother's baseball games on the bleachers, I was the girl on the empty field next to my brother's game, with the long blonde ponytail, dirt on my face and taking on the boys, as if they were a challenge. My life since then has been a competition.
I grew up playing softball every summer from age 6 all the way through college. With numerous MVP's, summer tournament championships, High School State Championships and college All-American honors, my softball life was pretty much complete - except that everything I learned along the way still dictates how I live my life and made me the person I am today.
My parents were always in my journey as well. My mom trying to feed me bananas through the dugout fence (even when I was 18) or my dad and I heading out to pitching lessons every Sunday – we were a team. Softball and me was such important part of our (my parent’s and I) life that they even missed my sister’s college graduation so they could be with me at my softball tournament. That is dedication – or should I say, Obsession.
During college, I worked as a pitching instructor where I met my future husband, Doug. He was this hot guy who I stared at every day at work while he taught his young kids. I was in awe of him. Not just of him, but the way he treated and how he worked with his students. It was clear to see that he had the same “obsession” as I did. Softball/Baseball and teaching. After many years of my persistent chasing of him, he finally gave in to my craziness and weird humor and married me. January 26, 2008
In June of 2008 we had our daughter BAilee. I know what you are thinking…”must have been a shot gun wedding” as the clerk and Bed Bath and Beyond said to me as a returned a shower gift - being pregnant and all – but that was not the case. We got engaged first and pregnant soon after.
When all was said and done, Bailee blessed us with her presence on June 25! She was amazing. A ball player from the start. I was even won my second state championship, but this time as a pitching coach that year too. We also coached a travel team. I would coach third with my body turned sideways in case a ball flew my way. I would even have parents sitting next to the fence down the third base line watching a foul ball roll past me and say, “How come you can’t get that coach?” My answer, “Umm, because I am 8 months pregnant! Do you think this is a beer belly or something?” Oh yes, my Bailee had already been through a lot before she was born. She even had her name in the paper before she was born – one of the reports for our local paper thought I went into labor shortly after the high school state championship and announced the next day that I delivered her. I laughed as I looked down at my incredibly bulging belly. “Not so much”
We will get back to Bailee a little later.
Not much longer after we had Bailee did I get pregnant again! I know fertile right? Just like my mom.
The pregnancy was so smooth – especially my hormones and the way I could bitch and complain about every ache and pain with such ease and grace. It’s almost like I wanted him to feel every little twinge and pull my body exerted – I guess you could call me a really good sharer. I thought it was only fair for my husband to go through everything that I did – so I let him have it on a daily basis. But really, it wasn’t my fault…hormones right? And let’s not forget about the pregnant absentmindedness – (he loves this one too) but unfortunately mine has not yet ceased. It must be some post-pardon absent mind thingy that lasts a year after you give birth!
Finally, this brings me to the delivery of my son. When we found out we were having a girl with BAilee I was so ecstatic! A softball player! But when Doug found out he was having a boy, he was beyond happiness! A boy to follow in his footsteps on the baseball field. Finally daddy would have the ultimate pitching student and prodigy. People always would say that if Doug and I were to ever have kids, he or she would be some incredible player! We had it all planned out in our heads. Hitting and pitching drills after school at the Bullpen, finish their homework there, wait for mom and dad to finish teaching and head home. BAilee would get a full ride to college for softball and Dougie would be a hot draft pick. This was it. We had our baseball family. Life couldn’t be better….
But life soon changed the day after Dougie was born.
Life had always come easy to us. We never struggled or experienced anything traumatic. I was your typical spoiled baby girl and Doug was a competent, “I can do it myself” man. We balanced each other out, but this was a balancing act we were not ready for.
Dougie was born on January 13, 2010. Everything was normal. This being our second time around, we knew we would have him stay in the nursery at night so we could get some rest. That next morning, the nurse had not brought Dougie to us. I didn’t worry. Soon the pediatrician on call came in and told us that they heard a slight murmur, which was typical with caesarean delivers, but everything was okay. Great! We were fine! I just wanted to see my little man. Not 30 minutes later, another doctor, one of whom we did not recognize came in with a concerned look on her face. She sat down next to us and pulled out a diagram of the heart. She began to explain that our son, the future all-star athlete, amazing pitching prodigy, had several heart defects and needed to be transported to Children’s Memorial Hospital right away. Our young and healthy hearts dropped. What just happened? The next thing I knew I was being sat up before your typical time after a c-section so I could be wheeled in the nursery to see my son. He layer there with wires attached to every orifice and I reached out and grabbed his little thumb – not knowing if this would be the last time I would ever see my son alive.
As Doug wheeled me away I put my head in my hands and cried, and choked and cried and cried. Why us? Why him? Why me? We didn’t deserve this? So many questions!!!
To make a long story short (which I shared on caring bridge) Dougie had two open heart surgeries by the time he was 12 days old. He was hospitalized for 65 days and was also diagnosed with DiGeorge syndrome. (www.22Q.org)
He is doing very well today, but as a mom now, he is one of my biggest concerns and worries on a daily basis. Of course, my crazy 2 and half year old too! Oh the stories I will be telling. Each day gets better and better with them!
Right now, Doug and I still do lessons every night at our baseball facility (http://www.bedingersbullpen.com/) , I am also a special education teacher (I took the year off to be with my son) and we are a happy unpredictable family. Routine is our game….just as it always was on and off the field.
One day at a time….One pitch at a time!
Welcome to my world as a mother, an athlete, a teacher, an instructor, a friend, a daughter and a sister.
I can promise you many laughs, but also many tears.
One pitch at a time.
If you would like to read or have not read my son's background story, here is his website: www.caringbridge.org/visit/douglasbedinger
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