“Video games are for boys!”

I remember them time and time again: “That’s for boys, put that down!” every time I stepped outside of that pink stuff and frilly dresses square they drew me in. I felt like a square.

I still do.

I missed out on some really great video games, but my brother(s) didn’t. I got the hand-me-downs [broken consoles, with cords with impossible to fix shorts in them, controllers with buttons that don’t work, etc.] and the things they didn’t want to play. I enjoyed them all the same. I ended up being really good at Columns, though. I still haven’t mastered Golden Axe. I could only reach stage three. Good times.

The only time I got to play video games usually resulted from something I’d rather not talk about having to come into play. Let’s just say after it ended and while it was happening all I saw at the end of the tunnel was a place to be free. I found my home in video games. It was my way to escape from everything around me. That escape only lasted in maybe 3-5 minute burst, maybe once a week or once a day, if I’m lucky. I was trying to disappear from their eyesight and they couldn’t even realize it. I wanted to help them stop wanting to beat me with broomsticks because they couldn’t process their anger differently. Dammit, I wanted to wear short sleeves in the Summer! I wanted to stop having to explain my scars, my bruises. I wanted to stop explaining why my skin is always full of open wounds. That now I’m the one causing because now, I pick my skin. I’m this trapped, confused, black child in the ghetto and I’m not even safe in my own home so what exactly was out there that they were keeping me from? I’m sorry…I’m panning away from the point.

Moving on….

Video games were my escape and they wouldn’t even give me a minutes peace. No matter how much I begged and pleaded. I wanted to be able to sit and play video games like my brothers. I wanted to be a kid. I didn’t want an Easy Bake and white Barbie dolls. I didn’t want frilly dresses and purses. I didn’t want to get beat for doing things that weren’t “lady-like”. And video games were “unladylike”. I could learn car detailing properly, I couldn’t learn mechanics and I couldn’t play video games because all of those things are for boys and that I should get in the kitchen with granny and learn how to cook.

Let me tell you…

I can COOK my ass off.

Then feed it to you and have you coming back for more. 

It’s a good thing too because I love to eat. -ahem.

When I was finally able to leave the house I started to collect older consoles, but I was still a dreamer then because I was collecting component cables and cartridges for them as well so I could play them. My family took them all; sold them or tossed them away, I forget which one they’re a fan of the most. My Gamecube, too.

My very first legit video game I was able to sit down and enjoy that I paid for when I was finally able to leave my house was ‘Super Smash Bros. Melee’. That was my first owned console; the Nintendo Gamecube. I had a silver one and I thought I was the shit because people would tell me how they wanted the silver one. Cheesy, I know. It was mine. My first racing game was a Need for Speed game. I have so many favorites of that franchise: Need for Speed: Most Wanted, Need for Speed Underground 2, and Need for Speed: Carbon. I don’t know why I loved those games, but I did.

*I was going to add pictures to this but, meh. No one reads this anyway.

There are so many games I want to play. Some, I’ve never heard of before my fiance mentioned them. Luckily, there are emulators and I have a gaming rig so I can just play catch up. It’s just, it would have been great to experience video gaming in all its glory, but I couldn’t because “video games are for boys”.

I Feel Like Shit and I Don’t Know Why

My postpartum depression was nothing like this with my son. I would say it was worse; I ended up in the psych ward. As far as the severity of the depression goes it’s different. I’m not even sure if I should call what I’m feeling right now as depression. I’ve been happy and feeling good about myself for weeks and now it’s like a dark cloud is looming over me and I feel like shit. I hate life right now. My son will be home tomorrow from being with his grandparents for the holidays. I miss him. Other than that, I don’t understand what’s wrong with me. I’m not tired, frustrated, mad, sad, or even in pain. I know I’m sick and tired of the bleeding from my nether regions though. I though breastfeeding was supposed to help with that? I guess not.

As I sit here trying to figure out why I’m suddenly wishing I could just curl up and cry my pain away, I’m also wondering how long is this going to last. It’s like the feel good emotions was a figment of my imagination; it’s all a blur. I want it come back. I need it to.

What I’ve Gathered and Struggled with Breastfeeding So Far | My First Month

The Struggle Was Real…

I always thought that breast was best, so when a WIC office in Cleveland told me that I wasn’t making enough milk for my son and that I should strictly formula feed him, I was distraught. I really thought that was true. I tried for days and days after I had my son and I wasn’t producing enough, no matter what I did. So I gave up and formula fed my son. Getting up making bottles, making sure it was warm enough for him, etc. I hated it. Mostly because he seemed as if he was never getting enough. 12-24 ounces a day. You’d think all that milk there’d be spit up, nope.

Now with my little mama the struggle isn’t so real. She’s fine…I think.


Since day one, my little mama wants to only take the tip of my nipple in her mouth. On rare occasions she will adjust herself and get a mouth full of my breast in her mouth. Most of the time I’m in pain. She fights my breast, sticks her hands in her mouth, lick my nipple, rinse and repeat. My nipples burn and ache; I get sharp pains from deep within my breast regularly, wearing bras even hurt. I saw a lactation consultant yesterday and she tells me that she may be tongue-tied. She told me to take a clean finger or put on a medical glove and run my finger along the roof of her mouth. I haven’t done it because I don’t have the slightest clue what I’m looking for. I think I’ll let my pediatrician check for that.

Night Feedings

At night she feeds a lot more and sleep a lot less. She fights at the breast more. She groan, grunt, squirm, sigh, root, kick, cry and get frustrated. I try to lie down and feed her that way but that’s when she has an episode. I have to sit up and feed her with her in my arms. She feeds for 2-3 hours at a time that way. Every 15 minutes throughout the night if I’m lying down with her.


I have to pump her milk when we’re outside of the home or when her father needs to feed her – which is a rare occasion. I usually get around 2 ounces from each breast if I haven’t eaten anything or had anything to drink. On a good day I get 5 ounces or so. That’s usually because I’ve eaten good, or, I’m backed  up and need to pump because now I’m engorged; which hurts like hell.

My appetite

Most days, I’m eating once a day. My appetite has left with the pregnancy. Other days I’ll eat maybe twice and snack throughout and then end up neglecting on drinking any fluids.

What Works

When it comes to getting my breasts filled with boob juice oatmeal, Gatorade, and water is all I need. When I pump I get about 8 ounces of milk which is great when I’m going to be out of the house for that day


There is little; just my fiancé who works 40 hours a week for 5 days. If I need to do something it has to wait. If I need to take a nap, it has to be when she’s sleeping. When my son is here with me that’s practically impossible.  I’ve never really had a support system so that’s not a big deal. I just wish I had someplace comfortable to sit besides the bed in my bedroom and the bed is like laying on metal spikes.

December 25th, 2014

I wasn’t sure how to title this post so I went with the date. Today was just an ordinary day for me. It was spent eating lasagna and Texas toast while catching up on news for Final Fantasy XIV. My daughter slept on and off throughout the day; only waking up to feed and look around for a bit. Her great-grandmother and grandma came over today to drop off my son his holiday gifts. He’s in Cleveland spending the holidays there with his grandma, grandpa, and other relatives. His step-granddad and one of my fiance’s friends got my son toys, too. I would have to say that my son is set in the toy department this year.

Outside of that today was okay. I managed to make it through this holiday season without having to watch a single movie with Santa in it. I did though watch a series of animes: Parasyte and Tokyo Ghoul. I’m going down my list of gory anime and I’ve only begun.

It was very quiet, calm and peaceful here today; mostly because most of that time was spent sleeping.

Happy Holidays!

I Spent The Better Half of Turkey Day in the Hospital

When I mean the better half, I mean the part where I finish cooking everything but didn’t get to eat any of it.  Since I was released from the hospital Monday after giving birth to my sweet daughter I’ve had pains. Not the typical birth pains; the uterus shrinking and crotch stitches pain, this pain was different. The sharp pains increased in intensity and length by each passing day, the pain was so bad I had to call 911…on Thanksgiving. I had Maya on the 22nd and was fine for the most part, so this scared the shit out of me.

I was crying, breathing heavily, screaming, moaning, wishing I was going into labor because those pains were tolerable. You didn’t hear a squeal, a scream, a moan, or a groan the entire time I was on pitocin and was dilating. I handled those contractions like a pro; did my breathing and was doing fine. The shit-storm that was the right side of my abdomen was something else. It was 100x more painful than anything I’ve ever experienced.

The pains were sharp and they were angry. When I moved, it made them worse. Getting me out of my apartment and into the ambulance took some work because every movement hurt. Let’s fast forward a bit…

I’m at the hospital and the doctors are looking at me wondering why I was there. Yea, I was JUST there last week and was transported to have Maya. Well here I am again in their emergency room. They couldn’t tell me what was wrong. The had me get a CT Scan – never had one of those before. I had to drink this contrast at it was disgusting. It was like drinking water, Gatorade and Robitussin all at once, the aftertaste was that of nightmares. They finished with the CT Scan and saw nothing wrong, so they scheduled an ultrasound and that’s when they found something.

They saw what they believed to be afterbirth. They tell me that this needs to be removed because it could be toxic, it could be necrotic and I could die. Then a nurse tells me that one of her colleagues friends died with her baby in her arms from this same shit. Well if I needed a more better reason to get transported – again to Akron City, that was it.

They examined me, pumped me full of pain drugs, antibiotics and anti-nausea meds prior to telling me all of this so I was sitting there nodding off because I was so relaxed as they were talking to me. Telling me that horror story woke me right-the-fuck-up.

I’m still like the only one in the emergency room and I’m starving. They tell me that I can’t eat anything yet because I may need surgery when I’m transported to Akron City. I’m freaking the-fuck out because I left my home in only my maxi nightgown, a scarf on my head, and my tennis shoes. My fiancé didn’t get to grab my coat or socks because he was holding Maya while checking on me. There were so many emergency techs in my home that it was understandable. There was also that I would be stranded in Akron if I were to go. The hospital I was at was right up the street from me. So I’d be in Akron on Thanksgiving, alone, stranded, in a nightgown and tennis shoes with there being 2-3 inches of snow on the ground. Lucky me. I didn’t want to die though; especially since I was really starting to enjoy life. It took me too damn long to find happiness and I didn’t want to die before I got to really enjoy it.

Well I got on the phone and called my ex-mother-in-law and she was more than willing to help me. She told me she’d bring me clothes and take me home. She stayed in Cleveland and it snowed really badly up there. I was very grateful for her. She, too didn’t want me to die. After I made those arrangements, I felt better leaving and being transported to Akron…again.

Now I’m in Akron in the emergency room and 5 different doctors and nurses come in to ask me what happened and donewhat was wrong. I must have the patience of a saint in this department and not know it because anyone else probably would have went insane due to the amount of times they’d have to repeat themselves. They all had a confused look on their faces because the ultrasound, the lack of symptoms and my pains weren’t adding up so they had to ask me the same questions differently. I tried to explain to them the best way I could what was wrong. They then tell me that it doesn’t sound like I needed such a dangerous and invasive surgery. I didn’t have a fever, I wasn’t bleeding profusely, my urine wasn’t burning, and I was vomiting or had any other symptoms that would call for that there was a fuck-ton of afterbirth still inside of me. So they sent me home with Percocet and two different types of antibiotics…yay, more pills.

And that’s how I spent my first turkey day with my family in two different ER’s.

Before The Baby Comes | My To-do List

I haven’t exactly been nesting. This burst of energy most moms get around the 36th-39th week of pregnancy I may mayasfacenever get, which is fine. There’s so much I still need to do before baby gets here. I may have more time than I realize, I may not.

[ ] Buy Maya’s Bouncer.

[ ] Buy more diapers.

[ ] Clean out the refrigerator.

[ ] Find recipes for freezer dinners.

[ ] Get printer paper.

[ ] Print out Birth Plan.

[ ] Print out breast pump prescription application.

[ ] Pack hospital bag.

[ ] Pay bills to keep them up-to-date.

[ ] Find a pediatrician for Maya and Adam.

[ ] Deep clean the kitchen.

[ ] Get November’s WIC at least.

[ ] Stock up on healthy snacks and foods.

[ ] Talk to Tommy about Birth Plan and who can and can’t visit us at the hospital.

[ ] Put money aside for crib mattress.

[ ] Buy sheets for said crib mattress.

[ ] Wash all the clothes, blankets and bed sheets.

[ ] Find furniture.

[ ] Have Maya.

[ ] Get signed up for HEAP/PIPP.

[ ] Have a plan on when Tommy and I will be getting married since it won’t be until I get myself in order.

Things I did managed to do so far:

[x] Put together Bassinet – that’s been put together since August. 🙂

[x] Buy and install new screen for laptop. This will be my lifesaver at the hospital.

[x] Sort out Maya’s clothes. Put diapers and wipes away.

[x] Packed Maya’s bag.

[x] Make a list of Xmas presents for son.


Things That Happen To Newborn Baby Girls That I Had No Clue About

They say you learn something new everyday, well I just did. I feel like a first time mom all over again.

  • Newborn girls may get their period.

During pregnancy, a surge in maternal estrogen levels can stimulate a female fetus’s uterus. Within the first week of life, it’s not uncommon for baby girls to have a mini period in which the uterus sheds a little blood. It is caused by the withdrawal of the hormones she was exposed to in the womb.

  • Girls may have a thick milky discharge after birth,

Most newborn girls will have a vaginal discharge of mucus.

Hormones from the mother may also cause some fluid to leak from the infant’s nipples. This is called witch’s milk. It is common and usually goes away within 2 weeks. Happens to boys, too; just not with my son.

  • Swollen breasts.

Not only can they leak, but they can swell and have lumps in them, too. Babies take a lot of hormones from the mom.

All of this was a shock to me even though it shouldn’t have. I’m glad I found out now instead of later.

Never Again…

Something told me not to step foot back into Akron City’s Women’s Health Center, something told me when I had that first complaint to get my ducks in a row and go somewhere else. If I was reconsidering going back to that place, that reconsideration is long gone. I went to this last appointment because it was already scheduled and I’m getting too close to my due date  that I fear no one else will take me; that and they happened to switch nurse practitioners for me. Well I ended up cancelling that appointment while I was there. Here’s why:

I arrived at my appointment a little early because my cab driver is always on time and he usually gets me there pretty early. In the past I would go in, sign in and sit down. Only once have I gotten there and they actually taken me back early. Other times, they tell me to get a urine sample and that they’ll take me back early. I’m never concerned about whether I get seen early or not. I just get there when I get there – which happens to be early. Today was different. I get there early at 8:43 am, I sign in, the woman at the desk calls my name to come back up so she can get my name and insurance card. Asks me when I’ll be due and then tells me that this hospital will no longer be taking CareSource after November. That pissed me off, why I don’t know, after today I won’t be back here. Anyway, there was no issue with me signing in so early, she didn’t mention how early I signed in and how it would be a problem when she asked me when my appointment was.

I go and do my business in the bathroom with the urine sample and stick in the door they have in  the bathroom and sit down. Time and time roll by and it’s 9:30, then 9:41, then 9:53. I realized it’s been 20 minutes after my appointment – like the sign says – so I head up to the desk. She didn’t even have to ask me why I was standing there, she didn’t let me get a word out. She looks at me and says. “You haven’t been seen yet?” I tell her no and she then says. “What’s your name again?” I tell her my name and she do a little clicking at the computer and then asks me what time my appointment was, I tell her 9:30. She clicks away and someone walks up and then walks away and before they can get earshot away from her, she asks them, “What’s RTR?” Neither one of them knows. I don’t find that surprising at all. It looks like that’s the slogan for Summa Hospital: “Get your care here, but don’t ask any questions because we don’t know!” She then tells me that someone was ahead of you at 9:15. Well that’s fine, my appointment wasn’t until 9:30. I ask her well, “it’s 9:53, what’s taking them so long?” She get’s defensive and annoyed and says, “I DON’T KNOW I’M JUST READING WHAT IT SAYS!” Okay, I tell her to just cancel the appointment. That’s when she tells me that I shouldn’t have signed in early. She then tells me that you shouldn’t have sign in early because we don’t take people in early. I had to KINDLY remind her that I knew that and wasn’t expecting to be called in early, even though the waiting room was practically empty when I got there, took a piss test and sat down. It was past my initial appointment time by over 20 minutes, what does me signing in early have to do with anything?

So, I was penalized for signing in early. All the signs on that window at that desk and there wasn’t one up there that said I could not sign in early. Okay. Not once did she tell me to wait to sign in if you’re early so you don’t get overlooked or not called on. The women’s health center in Akron on 75 Arch St. has to be the most incompetent doctor’s office I’ve ever had an experience with. I would rather have my child on the side of the road before I go back there. Trust me, I won’t be going back there and I won’t have anything nice to say to anyone who ask me where they should go for women care either. Avoid that place like the plague. Especially if you make a prior complaint, because then they just take it out on you.

32 weeks pregnant and I have to deal with this nonsense?


A Life Changing Decision


My son will be two this Friday, my doesn’t time go by fast. I remember sleepless nights and late night feedings like it was yesterday. I remember taking him to the zoo last year on my birthday, happy that he finally was confident enough to start walking. I love my son more than I love life. I would give mine just so he could live if need be. Which makes what I need to vent on, that much more devastating to me.

His father and I no longer together – divorced. We discussed and agreed with the idea when we went to court that day that Adam would stay with me, live with me and be with his father on holidays and other days he want to see him. It was also agreed upon that there has to be an agreement if we were to move.

Those agreements became moot when his father decided that he wanted to move to Florida because he feels there’s nothing here in Cleveland, Ohio. No jobs, no opportunities, nothing. He’s sick of Ohio and been wanting to move since 2009 – before we got back together; before he searched for me. Well, now we have a son together and it has made me feel like I’m being selfish and unfair. The thing is, it’s been me and my son since the beginning. Yes, his father is in the picture but no where as near as much as I am. He says that’s killing him. I can totally understand that. We love our son with every fiber of our being, which makes him wanting to change the agreement we gave the courts from what it was to me having him every 6 months and his father having him for every 6 months is ridiculous to me.

I don’t want to do that. At first, I was in agreement but I wasn’t thinking about Adam and what it may do to him. He’ll be in a new place with new faces, without his mom. I’m not moving to Florida – that’s the plot-twist. I have my reasons for not moving with my ex-husband to Florida. Let’s just say that I’m not ready and I’ve expressed this to my ex-husband. He tried to tell me why I won’t move down there with him and then try and justify it. I’m simply not ready to make that move and I’m not going to do anything I feel is not in me or my sons best interest. Again, we figured he could be with me for 6-months and with his dad for 6-months. That sound good and all but I – again, was wondering what could this do to my son mentally, physically. So I changed my mind after thinking about it from a different view. My ex-husband then says, “Forget it, I’m not moving“. This is where I get pissed…

I don’t know what planet he’s from or where he got this idea that his entire world has to stop for his son. He too, has to live for his son. I told him that moving to a different state shouldn’t stop him from seeing his son. It’s men in worse situations and they still see their children. I told him, “there’s no excuse to why you can see your son when you want. Putting your dreams on hold because he’ll be living here in Ohio is just selfish“. It was like he was trying to guilt me into moving, at first and now, he’s trying to guilt me into changing the arrangements that we told the courts. We both signed the plan and we both told the judge that we agree to the plan.

To take him away from what he knows to a place he has to get to know, in my opinion will do more harm than good. I know his father wants him to meet the family members from his side, but I believe there is a time and place for that. I’m not trying – nor will I ever try to keep our son from his father; he knows this. I’m simply looking out for his well-being. Going back and forth every 6-months can’t be good for a child that young. For 6-months at a time, he won’t see me and he’ll get to wondering, and when he gets to that age where he starts asking questions, we’re going to have to answer them. What if he resents the back and forth? He doesn’t have a say in this, yet so how do we know this is for the best? What if he believes that I get sick of him and I send him to his dad every 6-months and vise versa? What if he ends up hating me? His dad? What does that do to a child mentally? There’s no balance, no stability.

Let’s not even get on the fact that I’ll be torn to pieces not being able to see my sweetie for months at a time. He’s all I’ve known and had these past 2 years. When I was going through the ups and downs with his father, I had him I could talk to and hold. I don’t know how I’ll feel not being able to kiss his fat cheeks and hold him in my arms – giving him hugs and telling him I love him. The first face he see in the morning is the same face he sees when he goes to bed at night. When he’s fussy and cranky because he’s tired, he runs to me and falls asleep in my lap. We have this unbreakable bond and it’s hurting me deeply that my ex would even think of a 6-month retreat to Florida. For that, it makes me more selfish than him and I know this. I just don’t know if my fears are fair, or not.

I also found higher-learning programs here in Ohio that I was planning on enrolling him in few a months after he turned two. I’ve never been to Florida, I don’t know anyone down there. My grandmother told me to get a lawyer, but I don’t think it needs to come to that. I don’t need this to turn into a huge custody battle. What I need is for my ex-husband to understand that this needs to wait until he can understand what’s going on enough to say, “I don’t want this” or. “I’ll be okay, mommy, I want to go to Florida with dad“…something! He’s not even talking yet. What if something happens and when he comes back from Florida, he can’t tell me? I will want the details that his dad will forget to tell me or keep from me.

It would not be healthy for custody of a young child to be split equally between family members who live miles and miles apart. Research indicates that babies need a primary caregiver with whom to build a secure attachment and that having several different people caring for them for long periods of time could stifle that kind of bonding.

People who knows my situation would say, “If I was you, I would be in full agreement in regards of having his dad have him for 6-months. You could get a lot of things accomplished in those 6-months and get that much-needed rest.” That may be true, but I’m more concerned about the well-being of my child. What if there are behavioral issues due to the sudden change in environment? What if he goes through a severe bout of separation anxiety? Call me paranoid, a helicopter mom, what…ever. At the end of the day, I love my son and I believe I’m looking out for his best interests.

His dad, doesn’t have a plan. He doesn’t have a job; he’s relying on his income tax return money to make this move. Where is he going to live? With his brother, wife and newborn child? That’s not a new start, that’s just moving in with someone else. He’s inconveniencing them if anything else. They may not say it, but  it’s true. If there’s no plan, he doesn’t have a place, a job, some kind of stability. Adam isn’t going anywhere. He’s in Ohio and he doesn’t have a place to stay, or a job. He can’t even provide for his son, now. Which is another fear of mine. I feel like I’m being selfish, but then again “I’m not leaving without my son” is a very selfish statement, too. “I want to teach him how to be a man“. Women have done that since the first deadbeat came into existence. To use that as an excuse, a crutch tells me that he doesn’t have anything else to go on. There are things in life a man cannot learn from another man. They have to learn things through their failures and successes.

What am I going to do?


Hello, all…

I, of course, have not been blogging, lately. For that, I apologize. There are so many things that has happened since the last blog I posted:

Adam is 20-months and still babbling…

The last I mentioned of this delay was before X-Mas. Well, it’s almost Easterand my son is still using the only words he knew then. So I’ve gotten in contact with CHSC – Cleveland Hearing & Speech Center to see if they can help me with his delayed speech. I’ve posted my concerns on Babble.com and the moms there gave me their advice on the matter. Some of them had sons who were just like mine and they waited and others got them evaluated. “It never hurts to be sure, so get him evaluated” one said, and so I made the appointment today and hopefully someone gets in contact with me, soon.

We are moving…

I’ve grown tied of Winton Manor and their horrible tenants. My neighbors are the epitome of the meaning “kids raising kids”. They keep my son up, they use foul language, they have more traffic than I-90 and the worst part is they wrestle and play around. All of this is happening around 1-3:00 in the morning because they slept all day. It’s like clockwork and I’ve grown sick of them and that MJM Management not doing anything about them. My son and I deserve better so for the time being, we’ll be staying with my grandmother until I can get myself together and find me another place. She’ll enjoy our company because most of the day she’s by herself. She loves her great-grandson.

I graduate in October…

Yep, in October, I’ll have my Associates of Arts Degree – majoring in Web Design. I’m proud of myself and hopefully, this will open up a lot of doors for me. I’ve since gotten job offers but had to turn them down due to my situation. There will be more in the future and better ones. I just hope I didn’t make a mistake turning down that last one; they were going to pay me $15.93 an hour just to fool around with websites.

Taking driving classes…

The classes cost $439.00 but in the end, it’ll be the best investment. I’m tired of waiting on someone to teach me how to drive, so I’m taking the initiative and doing things myself. The only issue, is coming up with the money. I’ll find a way. The classes are expensive yes but it covers 10 classes and they’ll pick me up and drive me off; plus a few other quirks. Again, best investment I’ve made so far.

Daycare again…

I’m thinking about sending my son back to daycare so he can flourish like he did before I took him out. He was really doing good and they taught him so much, even how to walk. They were nice, too. Asia‘s Little Angels will be the place I’ll go if I decide on taking him back to daycare. His friends and the people taking care of him probably miss him.

I guess that’s it for the update and I’ve made a promise that I’ll try and start blogging more again. I’ll see how that goes.