#gielle

Tractors and bacon. I suppose it's a funny name and probably makes no sense to you, but to me, it means the difference between a tranquil home and a volcanic eruption in my 2 year old sons room. Okay, I wouldn't say VOLCANIC, that's a slight exaggeration. I've been pretty lucky in the sense that my little boy has been an angel - and not in the "oh my kid is the greatest kid" said by every parent in the universe, but in a literal sense. But, I will touch on that later. Basically, a tantrum or outbreak from him is as rare as a unicorn... Or like, a horse in which it's owner placed a cone on it's forehead for a funny Instagram picture. Which isn't totally uncommon, but rare, right? You get what I'm trying to say. Back to the point, my son runs on tractors and bacon. Pretty simple demands. I don't blame the kid, bacon is the food of Gods, and who doesn't love a nice John Deere? So, that being said, when I asked my nearly three year old what I should name my blog, he threw out two different ideas... Can you guess? "You can name it Tractor, Momma!" -"eeeeehhhhm, I mean, that's really creative, Baby, but, what else are you thinking?" Silence. Silence. Silence. ".....BACON, Mom, BACON!" And there you have it. My username for my mom blog. I'll be honest, being a mother by 23 wasn't on my list of things to do. I thought I'd be older, like my mother was, with all these experiences under my belt and nothing left in life to do but be a momma. I had a plan. Well, at 21 there was an accidental pregnancy with He Who Shall Not Be Named. I saw the two pink lines alone in my little apartment and literally fell on the floor screaming in complete devastation. It was like a damn movie, I swear, I LOL occasionally at my past dramatics. We were on the outs for various reasons. But, once it set in, my morals and values shook me back to reality, and I thought maybe I could do it. And if I couldn't, I'd figure it out. After all, no ones REALLY ready for their first child anyway right? I'd most certainly be doing it alone. I considered the "A" word many times. I now shudder at the idea. I suppose that jinxed me, or the stress, or my poor genes, because I lost the baby two and a half months in. The hardest experience in my existence at that point in my life. But is it so bad of me to admit I was slightly... Relieved? Knowing I didn't have to face that by myself, stuck to battling someone I began to loathe for the rest of my life over custody and give my child a life like that? But I missed the baby... I MISS the baby. The baby I was never going to know. But, as always, the world keeps turning. Experience makes you wiser, stronger, let's you see things in ways you couldn't before whatever happened... Happened. My best friend, Mark, became my lover. My soul. My entire heart. We fell into each other as other things fell apart. We knew everything about each other. And we made a baby. We made Jace Brando. Our angel. He was a complete surprise, and we sat under a tree, clutching his first ultrasound in our fists, crying. We had both lost children before, and were both terrified now. Not knowing what was going to happen. But here he is - healthy, happy, smart as hell, blonde with green eyes, glorious and beautiful... born in February. And in that same October, I was diagnosed with cervical cancer. And since then have lost 6 more pregnancies. I've been pretty open about this on Instagram, in hopes that perhaps someone will know they aren't alone if in the same situation. But, this is raw, the honesty that hurts. No one but my family really knows the numbers. And now you do. And this is why Jace is literally my angel. I don't talk of these things for sympathy, I talk to prove that every child is a dream. A miracle. A blessing. Whether you are ready or not, through every "volcanic eruption," through every poopy diaper, sleepless night, those months long stretches where you have no "me" time. Your baby is your miracle. And there is not enough tractors or bacon in this world, nor kisses, hugs, kisses on booboos, or lullabies, that can show how much I love my Jace enough.